{"collection":"ritual-magic","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_44245/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_44245","id":"gutenberg_44245","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44245","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Other","History","Mysticism","Patarines"],"text":"HISTORIC ODDITIES\n\nAND\n\nSTRANGE EVENTS\n\n\nBy the same Author.\n\n     +ARMINELL: A SOCIAL ROMANCE.+ 3 Vols. Cr. 8vo. (_On Nov. 1_).\n\n     +OLD COUNTRY LIFE.+--With Numerous Illustrations, Initial Letters,\n     &c. Cr. 8vo. (_In October_).\n\n     +YORKSHIRE ODDITIES.+--New and Cheaper Edition (_In Preparation_).\n\n     +STRANGE SURVIVALS.+--(_In Preparation_).\n\n     +HISTORIC ODDITIES.+--Second Series (_In Preparation_).\n\n\nMETHUEN & CO.\n\n\n\n\nHISTORIC ODDITIES\n\nAND\n\nSTRANGE EVENTS\n\nBY\n\nS. BARING GOULD, M.A.\nAUTHOR OF \"MEHALAH,\" \"JOHN HERRING,\" ETC.\n\nFIRST SERIES\n\nLONDON\nMETHUEN & CO.\n18 BURY STREET, W.C.\n1889\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n                                         PAGE\nPREFACE,                                  vii\n\nTHE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST,              1\n\nTHE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON,                   26\n\nGENERAL MALLET,                            51\n\nSCHWEINICHEN'S MEMOIRS,                    67\n\nTHE LOCKSMITH GAMAIN,                      83\n\nABRAM THE USURER,                         103\n\nSOPHIE APITZSCH,                          121\n\nPETER NIELSEN,                            136\n\nTHE WONDER-WORKING PRINCE HOHENLOHE,      164\n\nTHE SNAIL TELEGRAPH,                      185\n\nTHE COUNTESS GOERLITZ,                    199\n\nA WAX AND HONEY-MOON,                     234\n\nTHE ELECTRESS' PLOT,                      257\n\nSUESS OPPENHEIM,                          271\n\nIGNATIUS FESSLER,                         294\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nA reader of history in its various epochs in different countries, comes\nupon eccentric individuals and extraordinary events, lightly passed\nover, may be, as not materially affecting the continuity of history, as\nnot producing any seriously disturbing effect on its course. Such\npersons, such events have always awakened interest in myself, and when I\nhave come on them, it has been my pleasure to obtain such details\nconcerning them as were available, and which would be out of place in a\ngeneral history as encumbering it with matter that is unimportant, or of\ninsufficient importance to occupy much space. Two of the narratives\ncontained in this work have appeared already in the \"Cornhill Magazine,\"\nbut I have considerably enlarged them by the addition of fresh\nmaterial; some of the others came out in the \"Gentleman's Magazine,\" and\none in \"Belgravia.\" With only two of them--\"Peter Nielsen\" and \"A Wax\nand Honey-Moon\"--are the authorities somewhat gone beyond and the facts\nslightly dressed to assume the shape of stories.\n\nS. BARING GOULD.\n\nLEW TRENCHARD, N. DEVON,\n_July, 1889_.\n\n\n\n\nHISTORIC ODDITIES.\n\n\n\n\nThe Disappearance of Bathurst.\n\n\nThe mystery of the disappearance of Benjamin Bathurst on November 25,\n1809, is one which can never with certainty be cleared up. At the time\npublic opinion in England was convinced that he had been secretly\nmurdered by order of Napoleon, and the \"Times\" in a leader on January\n23, 1810, so decisively asserted this, that the \"Moniteur\" of January 29\nensuing, in sharp and indignant terms repudiated the charge.\nNevertheless, not in England only, but in Germany, was the impression so\nstrong that Napoleon had ordered the murder, if murder had been\ncommitted, that the Emperor saw fit, in the spring of the same year,\nsolemnly to assure the wife of the vanished man, on his word of honour,\nthat he knew nothing about the disappearance of her husband. Thirty\nyears later Varnhagen von Ense, a well-known German author, reproduced\nthe story and reiterated the accusation against Napoleon, or at all\nevents against the French. Later still, the \"Spectator,\" in an article\nin 1862, gave a brief sketch of the disappearance of Bathurst, and\nagain repeated the charge against French police agents or soldiers of\nhaving made away with the Englishman. At that time a skeleton was said\nto have been discovered in the citadel of Magdeburg with the hands\nbound, in an upright position, and the writer of the article sought to\nidentify the skeleton with the lost man.[1]\n\nWe shall see whether other discoveries do not upset this identification,\nand afford us another solution of the problem--What became of Benjamin\nBathurst?\n\nBenjamin Bathurst was the third son of Dr. Henry Bathurst, Bishop of\nNorwich, Canon of Christchurch, and the Prebendary of Durham, by Grace,\ndaughter of Charles Coote, Dean of Kilfenora, and sister of Lord\nCastlecoote. His eldest brother, Henry, was Archdeacon of Norwich; his\nnext, Sir James, K.C.B., was in the army and was aide-de-camp to Lord\nWellington in the Peninsula.\n\nBenjamin, the third son of the bishop, was born March 14, 1784,[2] and\nhad been secretary of the Legation at Leghorn. In May, 1805, he married\nPhillida, daughter of Sir John Call, Bart., of Whiteford, in Cornwall,\nand sister of Sir William Pratt Call, the second baronet. Benjamin is a\nChristian name that occurs repeatedly in the Bathurst family after the\nfounder of it, Sir Benjamin, Governor of the East India Company and of\nthe Royal African Company. He died in 1703. The grandfather of the\nsubject of our memoir was a Benjamin, brother of Allen, who was created\nBaron in 1711, and Earl in 1772.\n\nBenjamin had three children: a son who died, some years after his\nfather's disappearance, in consequence of a fall from a horse at a race\nin Rome; a daughter, who was drowned in the Tiber; and another who\nmarried the Earl of Castlestuart in 1830, and after his death married\nSignor Pistocchi.\n\nIn 1809, early in the year, Benjamin was sent to Vienna by his kinsman,\nEarl Bathurst, who was in the ministry of Lord Castlereagh, and, in\nOctober, Secretary of State for the Foreign Department. He was sent on a\nsecret embassy from the English Government to the Court of the Emperor\nFrancis. The time was one of great and critical importance to Austria.\nSince the Peace of Pressburg she had been quiet; the Cabinet of Vienna\nhad adhered with cautious prudence to a system of neutrality, but she\nonly waited her time, and in 1808 the government issued a decree by\nwhich a militia, raised by a conscription, under the name of the\n\"Landwehr,\" was instituted, and this speedily reached the number of\n300,000 men. Napoleon, who was harassed by the insurrection in the\nPeninsula, demanded angrily an explanation, which was evaded. To overawe\nAustria, he met the Emperor Alexander of Russia at Erfurth, and the\nlatter when sounded by Austria refused to have any part in the\nconfederation against Napoleon. England, in the meantime, was urging\nAustria to cast down the gauntlet. In pledge of amity, the port of\nTrieste was thrown open to the English and Spanish flags. In December, a\ndeclaration of the King of England openly alluded to the hostile\npreparations of Austria, but the Cabinet at Vienna were as yet undecided\nas to the course they would finally adopt. The extreme peril which the\nmonarchy had undergone already in the wars with Napoleon made them\nhesitate. England was about to send fifty thousand men to the Peninsula,\nand desired the diversion of a war in the heart of Germany. Prussia\nresolved to remain neutral. Napoleon rapidly returned from Spain, and\norders were despatched to Davoust to concentrate his immense corps at\nBamberg; Massena was to repair to Strasburg, and press on to Ulm;\nOudenot to move on Augsburg, and Bernadotte, at the head of the Saxons,\nwas to menace Bohemia. It was at this juncture that Benjamin Bathurst\nhurried as Ambassador Extraordinary to Vienna, to assure the Cabinet\nthere of the intentions of England to send a powerful contingent into\nSpain, and to do all in his power to urge Austria to declare war.\nEncouraged by England, the Cabinet of Vienna took the initiative, and on\nApril 8 the Austrian troops crossed the frontier at once on the Inn, in\nBohemia, in Tyrol, and in Italy.\n\nThe irritation and exasperation of Napoleon were great; and Bathurst,\nwho remained with the Court, laboured under the impression that the\nEmperor of the French bore him especial enmity, on account of his\nexertions to provoke the Austrian Ministry to declaration of war.\nWhether this opinion of his were well founded, or whether he had been\nwarned that Napoleon would take the opportunity, if given him, of\nrevenging himself, we do not know; but what is certain is, that Bathurst\nwas prepossessed with the conviction that Napoleon regarded him with\nimplacable hostility and would leave no stone unturned to compass his\ndestruction.\n\nOn July 6 came the battle of Wagram, then the humiliating armistice of\nZnaim, which was agreed to by the Emperor Francis at Komorn in spite of\nthe urgency of Metternich and Lord Walpole, who sought to persuade him\nto reject the proposals. This armistice was the preliminary to a peace\nwhich was concluded at Sch\u00f6nbrun in October. With this, Bathurst's\noffice at Vienna came to an end, and he set out on his way home. Now it\nwas that he repeatedly spoke of the danger that menaced him, and of his\nfears lest Napoleon should arrest him on his journey to England. He\nhesitated for some time which road to take, and concluding that if he\nwent by Trieste and Malta he might run the worst risks, he resolved to\nmake his way to London by Berlin and the north of Germany. He took with\nhim his private secretary and a valet; and, to evade observation,\nassumed the name of Koch, and pretended that he was a travelling\nmerchant. His secretary was instructed to act as courier, and he passed\nunder the name of Fisher. Benjamin Bathurst carried pistols about his\nperson, and there were firearms in the back of the carriage.\n\nOn November 25, 1809, about midday, he arrived at Perleberg, with\npost-horses, on the route from Berlin to Hamburg, halted at the\npost-house for refreshments, and ordered fresh horses to be harnessed\nto the carriage for the journey to Lenzen, which was the next station.\n\nBathurst had come along the highway from Berlin to Schwerin, in\nBrandenburg, as far as the little town of Perleberg, which lies on the\nStepnitz, that flows after a few miles into the Elbe at Wittenberge. He\nmight have gone on to Ludwigslust, and thence to Hamburg, but this was a\nconsiderable d\u00e9tour, and he was anxious to be home. He had now before\nhim a road that led along the Elbe close to the frontier of Saxony. The\nElbe was about four miles distant. At Magdeburg were French troops. If\nhe were in danger anywhere, it would be during the next few hours--that\nis, till he reached D\u00f6mitz. About a hundred paces from the post-house\nwas an inn, the White Swan, the host of which was named Leger. By the\nside of the inn was the Parchimer gate of the town, furnished with a\ntower, and the road to Hamburg led through this gate, outside of which\nwas a sort of suburb consisting of poor cottagers' and artisans' houses.\n\nBenjamin Bathurst went to the Swan and ordered an early dinner; the\nhorses were not to be put in till he had dined. He wore a pair of grey\ntrousers, a grey frogged short coat, and over it a handsome sable\ngreatcoat lined with violet velvet. On his head was a fur cap to match.\nIn his scarf was a diamond pin of some value.\n\nAs soon as he had finished his meal, Bathurst inquired who was in\ncommand of the soldiers quartered in the town, and where he lodged. He\nwas told that a squadron of the Brandenburg cuirassiers was there under\nCaptain Klitzing, who was residing in a house behind the Town Hall. Mr.\nBathurst then crossed the market place and called on the officer, who\nwas at the time indisposed with a swollen neck. To Captain Klitzing he\nsaid that he was a traveller on his way to Hamburg, that he had strong\nand well-grounded suspicions that his person was endangered, and he\nrequested that he might be given a guard in the inn, where he was\nstaying. A lady who was present noticed that he seemed profoundly\nagitated, that he trembled as though ague-stricken, and was unable to\nraise a cup of tea that was offered him to his lips without spilling it.\n\nThe captain laughed at his fears, but consented to let him have a couple\nof soldiers, and gave the requisite orders for their despatch; then Mr.\nBathurst rose, resumed his sable overcoat, and, to account for his\nnervous difficulty in getting into his furs again, explained that he was\nmuch shaken by something that had alarmed him.\n\nNot long after the arrival of Mr. Bathurst at the Swan, two Jewish\nmerchants arrived from Lenzen with post-horses, and left before\nnightfall.\n\nOn Mr. Bathurst's return to the inn, he countermanded the horses; he\nsaid he would not start till night. He considered that it would be safer\nfor him to spin along the dangerous portion of the route by night when\nNapoleon's spies would be less likely to be on the alert. He remained in\nthe inn writing and burning papers. At seven o'clock he dismissed the\nsoldiers on guard, and ordered the horses to be ready by nine. He stood\noutside the inn watching his portmanteau, which had been taken within,\nbeing replaced on the carriage, stepped round to the heads of the\nhorses--_and was never seen again_.\n\nIt must be remembered that this was at the end of November. Darkness had\nclosed in before 5 P.M., as the sun set at four. An oil lantern hung\nacross the street, emitting a feeble light; the ostler had a horn\nlantern, wherewith he and the postillion adjusted the harness of the\nhorses. The landlord was in the doorway talking to the secretary, who,\nas courier, was paying the account. No one particularly observed the\nmovements of Mr. Bathurst at the moment. He had gone to the horses'\nheads, where the ostler's lantern had fallen on him. The horses were in,\nthe postillion ready, the valet stood by the carriage door, the landlord\nhad his cap in hand ready to wish the gentleman a \"lucky journey;\" the\nsecretary was impatient, as the wind was cold. They waited; they sent up\nto the room which Mr. Bathurst had engaged; they called. All in vain.\nSuddenly, inexplicably, without a word, a cry, an alarm of any sort, he\nwas gone--spirited away, and what really became of him will never be\nknown with certainty.\n\nWhilst the whole house was in amazement and perplexity the Jewish\nmerchants ordered their carriage to be got ready, and departed.\n\nSome little time elapsed before it was realised that the case was\nserious. Then it occurred to the secretary that Mr. Bathurst might have\ngone again to the captain in command to solicit guards to attend his\ncarriage. He at once sent to the captain, but Mr. Bathurst was not with\nhim. The moment, however, that Klitzing heard that the traveller had\ndisappeared, he remembered the alarm expressed by the gentleman, and\nacted with great promptitude. He sent soldiers to seize the carriage and\nall the effects of the missing man. He went, in spite of his swollen\nneck, immediately to the Swan, ordered a chaise, and required the\nsecretary to enter it; he placed a cuirassier and the valet on the box,\nand, stepping into the carriage, ordered it to be driven to the Golden\nCrown, an inn at the further end of the town, where he installed the\ncompanions of Bathurst, and placed a soldier in guard over them. A guard\nwas also placed over the Swan, and next morning every possible search\nwas made for the lost man. The river was dragged, outhouses, woods,\nmarshes, ditches were examined, but not a trace of him could be found.\nThat day was Sunday. Klitzing remained at Perleberg only till noon, to\nwait some discovery, and then, without delay, hurried to Kyritz, where\nwas his commandant, Colonel Bismark, to lay the case before him, and\nsolicit leave to hasten direct to Berlin, there to receive further\ninstructions what was to be done.\n\nHe was back on Monday with full authority to investigate the matter.\n\nBefore he left he had gone over the effects of Mr. Bathurst, and had\nlearned that the fur coat belonging to him was missing; he communicated\nthis fact to the civil magistrate of the district, and whilst he was\naway search was instituted for this. It was the sable coat lined with\nviolet velvet already mentioned, and this, along with another belonging\nto the secretary, Fisher was under the impression had been left in the\npost-house.\n\nThe amazing part of the matter is that the city authorities--and,\nindeed, on his return, Captain Klitzing--for a while confined themselves\nto a search for the fur coat, and valuable time was lost by this means.\nMoreover, the city authorities, the police, and the military were all\nindependent, and all jealous of each other. The military commander,\nKlitzing, and the burgomaster were in open quarrel, and sent up to\nheadquarters charges against each other for interference in the matter\nbeyond their rights. The head of the police was inert, a man afterwards\ndismissed for allowing defalcation in the monies entrusted to him. There\nwas no system in the investigation, and the proper clues were not\nfollowed.\n\nOn December 16th, two poor women went out of Perleberg to a little fir\nwood in the direction of Quitzow, to pick up broken sticks for fuel.\nThere they found, a few paces from a path leading through the wood,\nspread out on the grass, a pair of trousers turned inside out. On\nturning them back they observed that they were stained on the outside,\nas if the man who had worn them had lain on the earth. In the pocket was\na paper with writing on it; this, as well as the trousers, was sodden\nwith water. Two bullet holes were in the trousers, but no traces of\nblood about them, which could hardly have been the case had the bullets\nstruck a man wearing the trousers. The women took what they had found to\nthe burgomaster. The trousers were certainly those of the missing man.\nThe paper in the pocket was a half-finished letter from Mr. Bathurst to\nhis wife, scratched in pencil, stating that he was afraid he would never\nreach England, and that his ruin would be the work of Count\nd'Entraigues, and he requested her not to marry again in the event of\nhis not returning.\n\nThe English Government offered \u00a31,000 reward, and his family another\n\u00a31,000; Prince Frederick of Prussia, who took a lively interest in the\nmatter, offered in addition 100 Friedrichs d'or for the discovery of the\nbody, or for information which might lead to the solution of the\nmystery, but no information to be depended upon ever transpired. Various\nrumours circulated; and Mrs. Thistlethwaite, the sister of Benjamin\nBathurst, in her Memoirs of Dr. Henry Bathurst, Bishop of Norwich,\npublished by Bentley in 1853, gives them. He was said to have been lost\nat sea. Another report was that he was murdered by his valet, who took\nan open boat on the Elbe, and escaped. Another report again was that he\nhad been lost in a vessel which was crossing to Sweden and which\nfoundered about this time. These reports are all totally void of truth.\nMrs. Thistlethwaite declares that Count d'Entraigues, who was afterwards\nso cruelly murdered along with his wife by their Italian servant, was\nheard to say that he could prove that Mr. Bathurst was murdered in the\nfortress of Magdeburg. In a letter to his wife, dated October 14, 1809,\nBenjamin Bathurst said that he trusted to reach home by way of Colberg\nand Sweden. D'Entraigues had been a French spy in London; and Mrs.\nThistlethwaite says that he himself told Mrs. Bathurst that her husband\nhad been carried off by _douaniers-mont\u00e9s_ from Perleberg to Magdeburg,\nand murdered there. This it is hard to believe.\n\nThomas Richard Underwood, in a letter from Paris, November 24, 1816,\nsays he was a prisoner of war in Paris in 1809, and that both the\nEnglish and French there believed that the crime of his abduction and\nmurder had been committed by the French Government.\n\nThe \"European Magazine\" for January, 1810, says that he was apparently\ncarried off by a party of French troops stationed at Lenzen, but this\nwas not the case. No French troops were on that side of the Elbe. It\nfurther says, \"The French Executive, with a view to ascertain by his\npapers the nature of the relations subsisting between this country and\nthe Austrian Government, has added to the catalogue of its crimes by the\nseizure, or probably the murder, of this gentleman.\"\n\nIf there had been French troops seen we should have known of it; but\nnone were. Every effort was made by the civil and military authorities\nto trace Bathurst. Bloodhounds were employed to track the lost man, in\nvain. Every well was explored, the bed of the Stepnitz thoroughly\nsearched. Every suspicious house in Perleberg was examined from attic to\ncellar, the gardens were turned up, the swamps sounded, but every effort\nto trace and discover him was in vain.\n\nOn January 23, 1810, in a Hamburg paper, appeared a paragraph, which for\nthe first time informed the people of Perleberg who the merchant Koch\nreally was who had so mysteriously vanished. The paragraph was in the\nform of a letter, dated from London, January 6, 1810--that is, six weeks\nafter the disappearance. It ran thus: \"Sir Bathurst, Ambassador\nExtraordinary of England to the Court of Austria, concerning whom a\nGerman newspaper, under date of December 10, stated that he had\ncommitted suicide in a fit of insanity, is well in mind and body. His\nfriends have received a letter from him dated December 13, which,\ntherefore, must have been written after the date of his supposed death.\"\n\nWho inserted this, and for what purpose? It was absolutely untrue. Was\nit designed to cause the authorities to relax their efforts to probe the\nmystery, and perhaps to abandon them altogether?\n\nThe Jewish merchants were examined, but were at once discharged; they\nwere persons well-to-do, and generally respected.\n\nWas it possible that Mr. Bathurst had committed suicide? This was the\nview taken of his disappearance in France, where, in the \"Moniteur\" of\nDecember 12, 1809, a letter from the correspondent in Berlin stated:\n\"Sir Bathurst on his way from Berlin showed signs of insanity, and\ndestroyed himself in the neighbourhood of Perleberg.\" On January 23,\n1810, as already said, the \"Times\" took the matter up, and not obscurely\ncharged the Emperor Napoleon with having made away with Mr. Bathurst,\nwho was peculiarly obnoxious to him.\n\nIn the mean time, the fur coat had been found, hidden in the cellar of a\nfamily named Schmidt, behind some firewood. Frau Schmidt declared that\nit had been left at the post house, where she had found it; and had\nconveyed it away, and given it to her son Augustus, a fellow of\nnotoriously bad character. Now, it is remarkable that one witness\ndeclared that she had seen the stranger who had disappeared go out of\nthe square down the narrow lane in which the Schmidts lived, and where\neventually the fur coat was found. When questioned, Augustus Schmidt\nsaid that \"his mother had told him the stranger had two pistols, and had\nsent her to buy him some powder. He supposed therefore that the\ngentleman had shot himself.\" Unfortunately the conflict of authorities\nacted prejudicially at this point, and the questions how the Schmidts\ncame to know anything about the pistols, whether Frau Schmidt really was\nsent for powder, and whether Bathurst was really seen entering the alley\nin which they lived, and at what hour, were never properly entered into.\nWhatever information Klitzing obtained, was forwarded to Berlin, and\nthere his reports remain in the archives. They have not been examined.\n\nFresh quarrels broke out between Klitzing and the Burgomaster, and\nKlitzing instead of pursuing the main investigations, set to work to\ninvestigate the proceedings of the Burgomaster. So more time was lost.\n\nOn Thursday, November 30th, that is to say, five days after the\ndisappearance of Bathurst, Captain Klitzing ordered the town\nmagistrates; 1. To have all ditches and canals round the place examined;\n2. To have the neighbourhood of the town explored by foresters with\nhounds; 3. To let off the river Stepnitz and examine the bed. Then he\nadded, \"as I have ascertained that Augustus Schmidt, who is now under\narrest for the theft of the fur coat, was _not at home at the time that\nthe stranger disappeared_, I require that this fact be taken into\nconsideration, and investigated\"--and this, as far as we can ascertain,\nwas not done; it was just one of those valuable clues which were left\nuntraced.\n\nThe whole neighbourhood was searched, ditches, ponds, the river bed,\ndrains, every cellar, and garden, and nothing found. The search went on\nto December 6, and proved wholly resultless. It was not till December 16\nthat the trousers were found. It is almost certain that they were laid\nin the Quitzow wood after the search had been given over, on December\n6th.\n\nAs nothing could be proved against the Schmidt family, except that they\nhad taken the fur coat, Frau Schmidt and her son were sentenced to eight\nweeks' imprisonment.\n\nThe matter of the pistols was not properly cleared up. That, again, was\na point, and an important point that remained uninvestigated.\n\nThe military authorities who examined the goods of Mr. Bathurst declared\nthat nothing was missing except the fur cloak, which was afterwards\nrecovered, and we suppose these pistols were included. If not, one may\nbe sure that some notice would have been taken of the fact that he had\ngone off with his pistols, and had not returned. This would have lent\ncolour to the opinion that he destroyed himself. Besides no shot was\nheard. A little way outside the gateway of the town beyond the Swan inn\nis a bridge over the small and sluggish stream of the Stepnitz. It was\npossible he might have shot himself there, and fallen into the water;\nbut this theory will not bear looking closely into. A shot fired there\nwould certainly have been heard at night in the cottages beside the\nroad; the river was searched shortly after without a trace of him having\nbeen found, and his trousers with bullet holes made in them after they\nhad been taken off him had been discovered in another direction.\n\nThe \"Moniteur\" of January 29 said: \"Among the civilised races, England\nis the only one that sets an example of having bandits[3] in pay, and\ninciting to crime. From information we have received from Berlin, we\nbelieve that Mr. Bathurst had gone off his head. It is the manner of the\nBritish Cabinet to commit diplomatic commissions to persons whom the\nwhole nation knows are half fools. It is only the English diplomatic\nservice which contains crazy people.\"\n\nThis violent language was at the time attributed to Napoleon's\ndictation, stung with the charge made by the \"Times,\" a charge ranking\nhim with \"vulgar murderers,\" and which attributed to him two other and\nsomewhat similar cases, that of Wagstaff, and that of Sir George\nRumbold. It is very certain that the \"Moniteur\" would not have ventured\non such insulting language without his permission.\n\nIn April Mrs. Bathurst, along with some relatives, arrived in\nPerleberg. The poor lady was in great distress and anxiety to have the\nintolerable suspense alleviated by a discovery of some sort, and the\nmost liberal offers were made and published to induce a disclosure of\nthe secret. At this time a woman named Hacker, the wife of a peasant who\nlived in the shoe-market, was lying in the town gaol--the tower already\nmentioned, adjoining the White Swan. She was imprisoned for various\nfraudulent acts. She now offered to make a confession, and this was her\nstatement:\n\n\"A few weeks before Christmas I was on my way to Perleberg from a place\nin Holstein, where my husband had found work. In the little town of\nSeeberg, twelve miles from Hamburg, I met the shoemaker's assistant\nGoldberger, of Perleberg, whom I knew from having danced with him. He\nwas well-dressed, and had from his fob hanging a hair-chain with gold\nseals. His knitted silk purse was stuffed with louis d'ors. When I asked\nhim how he came by so much money, he said, 'Oh, I got 500 dollars and\nthe watch as hush-money when the Englishman was murdered.' He told me no\nmore particulars, except that one of the seals was engraved with a name,\nand he had had that altered in Hamburg.\"\n\nNo credit was given to this story, and no inquiry was instituted into\nthe whereabouts of Goldberger. It was suspected that the woman had\nconcocted it in the hopes of getting Mrs. Bathurst to interest herself\nin obtaining her release, and of getting some of the money offered to\ninformers.\n\nMrs. Bathurst did not return immediately to England; she appealed to\nNapoleon to grant her information, and he assured her through\nCambaci\u00e8res, and on his word of honour, that he knew nothing of the\nmatter beyond what he had seen in the papers.\n\nSo the matter rested, an unsolved mystery.\n\nIn Prussia, among the great bulk of the educated, in the higher and\nofficial classes, the prevailing conviction was that Napoleon had caused\nthe disappearance of Bathurst, not out of personal feeling, but in\npolitical interests, for the purpose of getting hold of the dispatches\nwhich he was believed to be conveying to England from the Austrian\nGovernment. The murder was held to be an accident, or an unavoidable\nconsequence. And in Perleberg itself this was the view taken of the\nmatter as soon as it was known who the stranger was. But then, another\nopinion prevailed there, that Klitzing had secretly conveyed him over\nthe frontier, so as to save him from the spies, and the pursuit which,\nas he and Bathurst knew, endangered the safety of the returning envoy.\n\nIn Perleberg two opinions were formed, by such as conceived that he had\nbeen murdered, as to the manner in which he had been made away with.\n\nNot far from the post-house was at the time a low tavern kept by Hacker,\nwho has been mentioned above; the man combined shoemaking with the sale\nof brandy. Augustus Schmidt spent a good deal of his time in this house.\nNow shortly after this affair, Hacker left Perleberg, and set up at\nAltona, where he showed himself possessed of a great deal of money. He\nwas also said to have disposed of a gold repeater watch to a jeweller in\nHamburg. This was never gone into; and how far it was true, or idle\nrumour, cannot be said. One view was that Bathurst had been robbed and\nmurdered by Hacker and Schmidt.\n\nThe other opinion was this. Opposite the post-house was a house occupied\nat the time by a fellow who was a paid French spy; a man who was tried\nfor holding secret communication with the enemy of his Fatherland. He\nwas a petty lawyer, who stirred up quarrels among the peasants, and\nlived by the result. He was a man of the worst possible character,\ncapable of anything. The opinion of one section of the people of\nPerleberg was, that Bathurst, before entering the carriage, had gone\nacross the square, and had entered into conversation with this man, who\nhad persuaded him to enter his door, where he had strangled him, and\nburied him in his cellar. The widow of this man on her death-bed\nappeared anxious to confess something, but died before she could speak.\n\nIn 1852 a discovery was made at Perleberg which may or may not give the\nrequisite solution.\n\nWe may state before mentioning this that Captain Klitzing never believed\nthat Bathurst had been spirited away by French agents. He maintained\nthat he had been murdered for his money.\n\nOn April 15, 1852, a house on the Hamburg road that belonged to the\nmason Kiesewetter was being pulled down, when a human skeleton was\ndiscovered under the stone threshold of the stable. The skeleton lay\nstretched out, face upwards, on the black peat earth, covered with\nmortar and stone chips, the head embedded in walling-stones and mortar.\nIn the back of the skull was a fracture, as if a blow of a heavy\ninstrument had fallen on it. All the upper teeth were perfect, but one\nof the molars in the lower jaw was absent, and there were indications of\nits having been removed by a dentist. The house where these human\nremains were found had been purchased in 1834 by the mason Kiesewetter\nfrom Christian Mertens, who had inherited it from his father, which\nlatter had bought it in 1803 of a shoemaker. _Mertens, the father, had\nbeen a serving man in the White Swan at the time of the disappearance of\nMr. Bathurst._\n\nInquiry was made into what was known of old Mertens. Everyone spoke\nhighly of him as a saving, steady man, God-fearing; who had scraped\ntogether during his service in the Swan sufficient money to dower his\ntwo daughters with respectively \u00a3150 and \u00a3120. After a long illness he\nhad died, generally respected.\n\nInformation of the discovery was forwarded to the Bathurst family, and\non August 23, Mrs. Thistlethwaite, sister of Benjamin, came to\nPerleberg, bringing with her a portrait of her brother, but she was\nquite unable to say that the skull that was shown her belonged to the\nmissing man, whom she had not seen for forty-three years. And--no\nwonder! When Goethe was shown the skull of his intimate friend Schiller\nhe could hardly trace any likeness to the head he remembered so well.\nMrs. Thistlethwaite left, believing that the discovery had no connection\nwith the mystery of her brother's disappearance, so ineradicably fixed\nin the convictions of the family was the belief that he had been carried\naway by French agents.\n\nHowever, let us consider this discovery a little closer, and perhaps we\nshall be led to another conclusion.\n\nIn the first place, the skeleton was that of a man who had been murdered\nby a blow on the back of his head, which had fractured the skull. It had\nbeen stripped before being buried, for not a trace of clothing could be\nfound.\n\nSecondly, the house of the Mertens family lay on the Hamburg road, on\nthe way to Lenzen, outside the Parchimer Gate, only three hundred paces\nfrom the White Swan. In fact, it was separated from the White Swan only\nby the old town-gate and prison tower, and a small patch of garden\nground.\n\nAt the time of the disappearance of Mr. Bathurst it was inhabited by\nChristian Mertens, who was servant at the White Swan. No examination was\nmade at the time of the loss of Bathurst into the whereabouts of\nMertens, nor was his cottage searched. It was assumed that he was at the\ninn waiting for his \"vale,\" like the ostler and the _Kellner_. It is\nquite possible that he may have been standing near the horses' heads,\nand that he may have gone on with Mr. Bathurst a few steps to show him\nthe direction he was to go; or, with the pretence that he had important\ninformation to give him, he may have allured him into his cottage, and\nthere murdered him, or, again, he may have drawn him on to where by\npre-arrangement Goldberger was lying in wait with a hammer or hatchet to\nstrike him down from behind. Considering how uneasy Mr. Bathurst was\nabout the road, and how preoccupied with the idea that French spies and\nsecret agents were on the look-out for him, he might easily have been\ninduced by a servant of the inn where he was staying to go a few steps\nthrough the gate, beyond earshot of the post-boy and landlord and\nostler, to hear something which the boots pretended was of importance to\nhim. Goldberger or another may have lain in wait in the blackness of the\nshadow of the gateway but a short distance from the lights about the\ncarriage, and by one stroke have silenced him. It is possible that\nAugustus Schmidt may have been mixed up in the matter, and that the\nsable coat was taken off Mr. Bathurst when dead.\n\nAgain, Mertens was able on the marriage of his two daughters to give one\n150_l._ and the other 120_l._ This would mean that Mertens had saved as\nboots of the Swan at the least 300_l._, for he would not give every\npenny to his children. Surely this was a considerable sum for a boots in\na little inn to amass from his wage and from \"vales.\"\n\nMrs. Thistlethwaite asserts in her Memoirs of Bishop Bathurst that\nshortly after the disappearance of her brother the ostler--can she mean\nMertens?--also disappeared, ran away. But we do not know of any\ncorroborating evidence.\n\nLastly, the discovery of the trousers in the wood near Quitzow points to\nthe traveller having been murdered in Perleberg; the murderers, whoever\nthey were, finding that an investigation of houses, barns, gardens and\nstables was being made, took the garments of the unfortunate man,\ndischarged a couple of shots through them to make believe he had been\nfired at by several persons lying in wait for him, and then exposed\nthem in a place away from the road along which Mr. Bathurst was going.\nThe man who carried these garments was afraid of being observed, and he\nprobably did not go through the town with them, but made a circuit to\nthe wood, and for the same reason did not take them very far. The road\nto Lenzen ran S.W. and that to Quitzow N.W. He placed the trousers near\nthe latter, but did not venture to cross the highway. He could get to\nthe wood over the fields unperceived.\n\nSupposing that this is the solution of the mystery, one thing remains to\nbe accounted for--the paragraph in the Hamburg paper dated from London,\nannouncing that Mr. Bathurst was alive and had been heard of since the\ndisappearance.\n\nThis, certainly, seems to have been inserted with a design to divert or\nallay suspicion, and it was generally held to have been sent from London\nby a French agent, on instruction from Paris. But it is possible that\nthe London correspondent may have heard a coffee-house rumour that\nBathurst was still alive, and at once reported it to the paper. Its\nfalsehood was palpable, and would be demonstrated at once by the family\nof the lost man to the authorities at Perleberg. It could not answer the\npurpose of arresting inquiry and staying investigation.\n\nIt remains only to inquire whether it was probable that Napoleon had any\nhand in the matter.\n\nWhat could induce him to lay hands on an envoy? He could not expect to\nfind on the person of Mr. Bathurst any important dispatches, for the war\nwas over, peace with Austria was concluded. He was doubtless angry at\nAustria having declared war, and angry at England having instigated her\nto do so, but Mr. Bathurst was very small game indeed on which to wreak\nhis anger; moreover, the peace that had been concluded with Austria gave\ngreat advantages to France. He can have had no personal dislike to\nBathurst, for he never saw him. When Napoleon entered Vienna, Bathurst\nwas with the Emperor Francis in Hungary, at Komorn.\n\nAnd yet, he may have suspected that Austria was insincere, and was\nanxious to renew the conflict, if she could obtain assurance of\nassistance from England. He may have thought that by securing the papers\ncarried to England by Bathurst, he would get at the real intentions of\nAustria, and so might be prepared for consequences. We cannot say. The\ndiscovery of the body in Mertens' house, under the threshold--supposing\nit to be that of Bathurst, does not by any means prove that the murder\nwas a mere murder for the purpose of robbery.\n\nIf Napoleon had given instructions for the capture of Bathurst, and the\ntaking from him of his papers, it does not follow that he ordered his\nmurder, on the contrary, he would have given instructions that he should\nbe robbed--as if by highwaymen--and let go with his life. The murder was\nagainst his wishes, if he did give orders for him to be robbed.\n\nThe Bathurst family never doubted that Benjamin had been murdered by the\nagents of Napoleon. It is certain that he was well aware that his safety\nwas menaced, and menaced at Perleberg. That was why he at once on\nreaching the place asked for the protection of a guard. He had received\nwarning from some one, and such warning shows that an attempt to rob him\nof his papers was in contemplation.\n\nThat caution to be on his guard must have been given him, before he left\nVienna. He probably received another before he reached Perleberg, for he\nappeared before the Commandant in a state of great alarm and agitation.\nThat this was mere spiritual presage of evil is hardly credible. We\ncannot doubt--and his letter to his wife leads to this conviction--that\nhe had been warned that spies in the pay of the French Government were\non the look-out for him. Who the agents were that were employed to get\nhold of his papers, supposing that the French Government did attempt to\nwaylay him, can never be determined, whether Mertens or Augustus\nSchmidt.\n\nIn 1815 Earl Bathurst was Secretary of State for War and the Colonial\nDepartment. May we not suspect that there was some mingling of personal\nexultation along with political satisfaction, in being able to send to\nSt. Helena the man who had not only been the scourge of Europe, and the\nterror of kings, but who, as he supposed--quite erroneously we\nbelieve--had inflicted on his own family an agony of suspense and doubt\nthat was never to be wholly removed?\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] The discovery of a skeleton as described was denied afterwards by\nthe Magdeburg papers. It was a newspaper sensational paragraph, and\nunfounded.\n\n[2] Register of Baptisms, Christchurch, Oxford, 1784, March 14,\nBenjamin, s. of Henry Bathurst, Canon, and Grace his wife, born, and\nbap. April 19.\n\n[3] When, in 1815, Napoleon was at St. Helena, on his first introduction\nto Sir Hudson Lowe, he addressed the governor with the insulting words,\n\"Monsieur, vous avez command\u00e9 des brigands.\" He alluded to the Corsican\nrangers in the British service, which Lowe had commanded.\n\n\n\n\nThe Duchess of Kingston.\n\n\nElizabeth Chudleigh, Countess of Bristol and Duchess of Kingston, who\nwas tried for bigamy in Westminster Hall by the Peers in 1776, was, it\ncan hardly be doubted, the original from whom Thackeray drew his\ndetailed portrait of Beatrix Esmond, both as young Trix and as the old\nBaroness Bernstein; nor can one doubt that what he knew of his prototype\nwas taken from that scandalous little book, \"An Authentic Detail of\nParticulars relative to the late Duchess of Kingston,\" published by G.\nKearsley in 1788. Thackeray not only reproduced some of the incidents of\nher life, but more especially caught the features of her character.\n\nPoor Trix! Who does not remember her coming down the great staircase at\nWalcote, candle in hand, in her red stockings and with a new cherry\nribbon round her neck, her eyes like blue stars, her brown hair curling\nabout her head, and not feel a lingering liking for the little coquette,\ntrying to catch my Lord Mohun, and the Duke of Hamilton, and many\nanother, and missing all? and for the naughty old baroness, with her\nscandalous stories, her tainted past, her love of cards, her complete\nunscrupulousness, and yet with one soft corner in the withered heart for\nthe young Virginians?\n\nThe famous, or infamous, Duchess has had hard measure dealt out to her,\nwhich she in part deserved; but some of the stories told of her are\ncertainly not true, and one circumstance in her life, if true, goes far\nto palliate her naughtiness. Unfortunately, almost all we know of her is\ntaken from unfriendly sources. The only really impartial source of\ninformation is the \"Trial,\" published by order of the Peers, but that\ncovers only one portion of her life, and one set of incidents.\n\nElizabeth Chudleigh was the daughter of Colonel Thomas Chudleigh, of\nChelsea, and his wife Henrietta, who was his first cousin, the fourth\ndaughter of Hugh Chudleigh, of Chalmington, in Dorset. Thomas was the\nonly brother of Sir George Chudleigh, fourth baronet of Asheton, in\nDevon. As Sir George left only daughters, Thomas, the brother of\nElizabeth, whose baptism in 1718 is recorded in the Chelsea registers,\nsucceeded as fifth baronet in 1738. Unfortunately the Chelsea registers\ndo not give the baptism of Elizabeth, and we are not able to state her\nprecise age, about which there is some difference. Her father had a post\nin Chelsea College, but apparently she was not born there. There can,\nhowever, be little doubt that she saw the light for the first time in\n1726, and not in 1720, as is generally asserted.\n\nHer family was one of great antiquity in the county of Devon, and was\nconnected by marriage with the first families of the west of England.\nThe old seat, Asheton, lies in a pleasant coombe under the ridge of\nHaldon; some remains of the old mansion, and venerable trees of the\npark, linger on; and in the picturesque parish church, perched on a rock\nin the valley, are many family monuments and heraldic blazonings of the\nChudleigh lions, gules on an ermine field. Elizabeth lost her father\nvery early, and the widow was left on a poor pension to support and\nadvance the prospects of her two children. Though narrowed in fortune,\nMrs. Chudleigh had good connections, and she availed herself of these to\npush her way in the world. At the age of sixteen--that is, in\n1743--Elizabeth was given the appointment of maid of honour to the\nPrincess of Wales, through the favour of Mr. Pulteney, afterwards Earl\nof Bath, who had met her one day while out shooting. The old beau was\ntaken with the vivacity, intelligence and beauty of the girl. She was\nthen not only remarkable for her beauty, delicacy of complexion, and\nsparkling eyes, but also for the brilliancy of her wit and the\nliveliness of her humour. Even her rival, the Marquise de la Touche, of\nwhom more hereafter, bears testimony to her charms. Pulteney, himself a\nwitty, pungent, and convivial man, was delighted with the cleverness of\nthe lovely girl, and amused himself with drawing it out. In after years,\nwhen she was asked the secret of her sparkling repartee, she replied, \"I\nalways aim to be short, clear, and surprising.\"\n\nThe Princess of Wales, Augusta, daughter of Frederick of Saxe-Gotha, who\nwith the Prince, Frederick Lewis, had their court at Leicester House,\nbecame greatly attached to her young maid of honour. The beautiful Miss\nChudleigh was speedily surrounded by admirers, among whom was James,\nsixth Duke of Hamilton, born in 1724, and therefore two years her\nsenior.\n\nAccording to the \"Authentic Detail,\" the Duke obtained from her a\nsolemn engagement that, on his return from a tour on the Continent which\nhe was about to take, she would become his wife. Then he departed,\nhaving arranged for a mutual correspondence.\n\nIn the summer of 1744 she went on a visit to Lainston, near Winchester,\nto her maternal aunt, Anne Hanmer, who was then living at the house of\nMr. Merrill, the son of another aunt, Susanna, who was dead.\n\nTo understand the relationship of the parties, a look will suffice at\nthe following pedigree.[4]\n\n\n  Sir George Chudleigh = Elizabeth, da. of Hugh Fortescue\n       2nd Bart.       |\n                       |\n +---------------------+-----------------------+\n |                                             |\nHugh Chudleigh = Susanna da.    Sir George Chudleigh = Mary da.\n2nd surv. son, | Sir R. Stroud.  s. & h., 3rd Bart., | R. Lee,\n   d. 1716.    |                      d. 1719.       | d. 1710.\n               |                                     |\n   +----------+-----------+        +----------------------+\n   |          |           |        |                      |\nSusanna,    Anne,    Henrietta = Thomas Chudleigh,   Sir George\nd. 1740,  d. 1764,    d. 1756. |     2nd son,        Chudleigh,\nm. John    m. Wm.              |  d. before 1734.     4th Bart.\nMerrill.  Hanmer.              |                      d. s. p.\n                               |                       1738.\n                   +-----------+--------------+\n                   |                          |\n               ELIZABETH,            Sir Thomas Chudleigh,\n           Duchess of Kingston,      5th Bart., d. s. p. 1741.\n               d. 1788.\n\n\nMrs. Hanmer, a widow, kept house for her nephew, who was squire. At the\nWinchester races, to which she went with a party, Elizabeth met\nLieutenant Hervey, second son of the late John, Lord Hervey, and\ngrandson of the Earl of Bristol. Lieutenant Hervey, who was in the\n\"Cornwall,\" then lying at Portsmouth, a vessel in Sir John Danver's\nsquadron, was born in 1724, and was therefore two years the senior of\nElizabeth; indeed, at the time he was only just twenty. He was\nfascinated by the beautiful girl, and was invited by Mrs. Hanmer to\nLainston. \"To this gentleman,\" says the \"Authentic Detail,\" \"Mrs. Hanmer\nbecame so exceedingly partial that she favoured his views on her niece,\nand engaged her efforts to effect, if possible, a matrimonial connexion.\nThere were two difficulties which would have been insurmountable if not\nopposed by the fertile genius of a female: Miss Chudleigh disliked\nCaptain Hervey, and she was betrothed to the Duke of Hamilton. To render\nthis last nugatory, the letters of his Grace were intercepted by Mrs.\nHanmer, and his supposed silence giving offence to her niece, she worked\nso successfully on her pride as to induce her to abandon all thoughts of\nthe lover, whose passion she had cherished with delight.\"\n\nIs this story true? It seems incredible that Mrs. Hanmer should have\nurged her niece to throw over such a splendid prospect of family\nadvancement as that offered by marriage with the Duke of Hamilton, for\nthe sake of an impecunious young sailor who was without the means of\nsupporting his wife, and who, at that time, had not the faintest\nexpectation of succeeding to the Earldom of Bristol.\n\nIt is allowable to hope that the story of the engagement to the Duke of\nHamilton, broken through the intrigues of the aunt, is true, as it forms\nsome excuse for the after conduct of Elizabeth Chudleigh.\n\nIt is more probable that the Duke of Hamilton had not said anything to\nElizabeth, and did not write to her, at all events not till later. She\nmay have entertained a liking for him, but not receiving any token that\nthe liking was reciprocated, she allowed her aunt to engage and marry\nher to young Hervey. That the poor girl had no fancy for the young man\nis abundantly clear. The Attorney General, in the trial, said that Mrs.\nHanmer urged on the match \"as advantageous to her niece;\" but\nadvantageous it certainly was not, and gave no prospect of being.\n\nIn August, Augustus John Hervey got leave from his ship and came to\nLainston. The house, which had belonged to the Dawleys, had passed into\nthe possession of the Merrills. In the grounds stands the parish church,\nbut as the only house in the parish is the mansion, it came to be\nregarded very much as the private chapel of the manor house. The living\nwent with Sparsholt. There was no parsonage attached, and though the\nDawleys had their children baptized in Lainston, they were registered in\nthe book of Sparsholt. The church is now an ivy-covered ruin, and the\nmansion is much reduced in size from what it was in the time when it\nbelonged to the Merrills.\n\n\"Lainston is a small parish, the value of the living being \u00a315 a year;\nMr. Merrill's the only house in it, and the parish church at the end of\nhis garden. On the 4th August, 1744, Mr. Amis, the then rector, was\nappointed to be at the church, alone, late at night. At eleven o'clock\nMr. Hervey and Miss Chudleigh went out, as if to walk in the garden,\nfollowed by Mrs. Hanmer, her servant--Anne Craddock, Mr. Merrill, and\nMr. Mountenay, which last carried a taper to read the service by. They\nfound Mr. Amis in the church, according to his appointment, and there\nthe service was celebrated, Mr. Mountenay holding the taper in his hat.\nThe ceremony being performed, Mrs. Hanmer's maid was despatched to see\nthat the coast was clear, and they returned into the house without being\nobserved by any of the servants.\" This is the account of the wedding\ngiven at the trial by the Attorney General, from the evidence of Anne\nCraddock, then the sole surviving witness.\n\nThere was no signing of registers, Mr. Amis was left to make the proper\nentry in the Sparsholt book--and he forgot to do this. The happiness of\nthe newly-married couple lasted but a few days--two, or at the outside,\nthree; and then Lieutenant Hervey left to rejoin his vessel, and in\nNovember sailed for the West Indies. The \"Authentic Detail\" declares\nthat a violent quarrel broke out immediately on marriage between the\nyoung people, and that Elizabeth declared her aversion, and vowed never\nto associate with him again.\n\nSo little was the marriage to her present advantage that Elizabeth was\nunable to proclaim it, and thereby forfeit her situation as maid of\nhonour to the Princess, with its pay and perquisites. Consequently, by\nher aunt's advice, she kept it concealed.\n\n\"Miss Chudleigh, now Mrs. Hervey,--a maid in appearance, a wife in\ndisguise,--seemed from those who judge from externals only, to be in an\nenviable situation. Of the higher circles she was the attractive centre,\nof gayer life the invigorating spirit. Her royal mistress not only\nsmiled on, but actually approved her. A few friendships she cemented,\nand conquests she made in such abundance that, like C\u00e6sar in a triumph,\nshe had a train of captives at her heels. Her husband, quieted for a\ntime, grew obstreperous as she became more the object of admiration. He\nfelt his right, and was determined to assert it. She endeavoured by\nletter to negotiate him into peace, but her efforts succeeded not. He\ndemanded a private interview, and, enforcing his demands by threats of\nexposure in case of refusal, she complied through compulsion.\"\n\nThe Duke of Hamilton returned from the grand tour, and he at once sought\nElizabeth to know why his letters had not been answered. Then the fraud\nthat had been practised on her was discovered, and the Duke laid his\ncoronet at her feet. She was unable to accept the offer, and unable also\nto explain the reasons of her refusal. Rage at having been duped,\ndisappointment at having lost the strawberry leaves, embittered\nElizabeth, and stifled the germs of good principle in her.\n\nThis is the generally received story. It is that given by the author, or\nauthoress, of the \"Authentic Detail,\" usually well informed. But, as we\nhave seen, it is hardly possible to suppose that Mrs. Hanmer can have\nsuppressed the Duke's letters. No doubt she was a fool, and a woman,\nwhen a fool, is of abnormal folly, yet she never loses sight of her own\ninterest; and it was not Mrs. Hanmer's interest to spoil the chances of\nher niece with the Duke.\n\nAfter the Duke of Hamilton had been refused, and his visits to her\nhouse in Conduit Street prohibited, the Duke of Ancaster, Lord Howe, and\nother nobles made offers, and experienced a fate similar to that of his\nGrace of Hamilton. This astonished the fashionable world, and Mrs.\nChudleigh, her mother, who was a stranger to the private marriage of her\ndaughter, reprehended her folly with warmth.[5] To be freed from her\nembarrassments, Elizabeth resolved to travel. She embarked for the\nContinent, and visited Dresden, where she became an attached friend of\nthe Electress of Saxony.\n\nOn her return to England she was subjected to annoyance from her\nhusband. She could not forgive him the deception practised on her,\nthough he was probably innocent of connivance in it.\n\n\"Captain Hervey, like a perturbed spirit, was eternally crossing the\npath trodden by his wife. Was she in the rooms at Bath? he was sure to\nbe there. At a rout, ridotto, or ball, there was this fell destroyer of\npeace, embittering every pleasure and blighting the fruit of happiness\nby the pestilential malignity of his presence. As a proof of his\ndisposition to annoy, he menaced his wife with an intimation that he\nwould disclose the marriage to the Princess of Wales. In this Miss\nChudleigh anticipated him by being the first relater of the\ncircumstance. Her royal mistress heard and pitied her. She continued her\npatronage to the hour of her death.\"\n\nIn 1749, Elizabeth attended a masquerade ball in the dress, or rather\nundress, of the character of Iphigenia. In a letter of Mrs. Montague to\nher sister, she says, \"Miss Chudleigh's dress, or rather undress, was\nremarkable, she was Iphigenia for the sacrifice, but so naked, the high\npriest might easily inspect the entrails of the victim. The Maids of\nHonour (not of maids the strictest) were so offended they would not\nspeak to her.\" Horace Walpole says, \"Miss Chudleigh was Iphigenia, but\nso naked that you would have taken her for Andromeda.\" It was of her\nthat the witty remark was then first made that she resembled Eve in that\nshe was \"naked and not ashamed.\" On May 17th Walpole writes: \"I told you\nwe were to have another masquerade; there was one by the King's command\nfor Miss Chudleigh, the Maid of Honour, with whom our gracious monarch\nhas a mind to believe himself in love, so much in love, that at one of\nthe booths he gave her a fairing for her watch, which cost him\nfive-and-thirty guineas, actually disbursed out of his privy purse, and\nnot charged on the civil list. I hope some future Holinshed or Speed\nwill acquaint posterity that five-and-thirty guineas were an immense sum\nin those days.\"\n\nIn December 1750, George II. gave the situation of Housekeeper at\nWindsor to Mrs. Chudleigh, Elizabeth's mother. Walpole says, \"Two days\nago, the gallant Orondates (the King) strode up to Miss Chudleigh, and\ntold her he was glad to have the opportunity of obeying her commands,\nthat he appointed her mother Housekeeper at Windsor, and hoped she would\nnot think a kiss too great a reward--against all precedent he kissed her\nin the circle. He has had a hankering these two years. Her life, which\nis now of thirty years' standing, has been a little historic. Why should\nnot experience and a charming face on her side, and near seventy years\non his, produce a title?\"\n\nIn 1760 she gave a soir\u00e9e on the Prince's birthday, which Horace Walpole\ndescribes: \"Poor thing,\" he writes, \"I fear she has thrown away above a\nquarter's salary!\"\n\nThe Duke of Kingston saw and was captivated by Elizabeth. Evelyn\nPierrepoint, Duke of Kingston, Marquis of Dorchester, Earl of Kingston,\nand Viscount Newark, was born in 1711. Horace Walpole says of him that\nhe was \"a very weak man, of the greatest beauty and finest person in\nEngland.\"\n\nHe had been to Paris along with Lord Scarborough, taking with him an\nentire horse as a present to the Duke of Bourbon, and was unable to do\nthis without a special Act of Parliament to authorise him. The Duke of\nBourbon, in return for the compliment, placed his palace at Paris, and\nhis ch\u00e2teau of Chantilly at the disposal of the visitor.\n\nThe Duke was handsome, young, wealthy and unmarried. A strong set was\nmade at him by the young ladies of the French court; but of all the\nwomen he there met, none attracted his attentions and engaged his heart\nbut the Marquise de la Touche, a lady who had been married for ten years\nand was the mother of three children. He finally persuaded her to elope\nwith him to England, where, however, he grew cold towards her, and when\nhe fell under the fascinations of Elizabeth Chudleigh he dismissed her.\nThe Marquise returned to France, and was reconciled to her husband;\nthere in 1786 she published her version of the story, and gave a history\nof her rival, whom naturally she paints in the blackest colours.\n\nNow follows an incident which is stated in the English accounts of the\nlife of Elizabeth Chudleigh; but of which there is no mention in the\ntrial, and which is of more than doubtful truth.\n\nShe had become desperate, resolved at all hazard to break the miserable\ntie that bound her to Captain Hervey. She made a sudden descent on\nLainston--so runs the tale--visited the parsonage, and whilst Mr. Amis\nwas kept in conversation with one of her attendants, she tore out the\nleaf of the register book that contained the entry of her marriage.\n\nThis story cannot possibly be true. As already said, Lainston has no\nparsonage, and never had. Lainston goes with Sparsholt, half-a-mile off.\nBut Mr. Amis never held Sparsholt, but acted as curate there for a while\nin 1756 and 1757. Lainston had no original register. What Elizabeth did\nwas probably to convince herself that through inadvertence, her marriage\nhad not been registered in the parish book of Sparsholt.\n\nIn 1751 died John, Earl of Bristol, and was succeeded by his grandson,\nGeorge William, who was unmarried. He was in delicate health; at one\ntime seriously ill, and it was thought he would die. In that case\nAugustus John, Elizabeth's husband, would succeed to the Earldom of\nBristol. She saw now that it was to her interest to establish her\nmarriage. She accordingly took means to do so.\n\nShe went at once to Winchester and sent for the wife of Mr. Amis, who\nhad married her. She told Mrs. Amis that she wanted the register of her\nmarriage to be made out. Mr. Amis then lay on his death-bed, but,\nnevertheless, she went to the rectory to obtain of him what she desired.\nWhat ensued shall be told in the words of Mrs. Amis at the trial.\n\n\"I went up to Mr. Amis and told him her request. Then Mr. Merrill and\nthe lady consulted together whom to send for, and they desired me to\nsend for Mr. Spearing, the attorney. I did send for him, and during the\ntime the messenger was gone the lady concealed herself in a closet; she\nsaid she did not care that Mr. Spearing should know that she was there.\nWhen Mr. Spearing came, Mr. Merrill produced a sheet of stamped paper\nthat he brought to make the register upon. Mr. Spearing said it would\nnot do; it must be a book, and that the lady must be at the making of\nit. Then I went to the closet and told the lady. Then the lady came to\nMr. Spearing, and Mr. Spearing told the lady a sheet of stamped paper\nwould not do, it must be a book. Then the lady desired Mr. Spearing to\ngo and buy one. Mr. Spearing went and bought one, and when brought, the\nregister was made. Then Mr. Amis delivered it to the lady; the lady\nthanked him, and said it might be an hundred thousand pounds in her way.\nBefore Mr. Merrill and the lady left my house the lady sealed up the\nregister and gave it to me, and desired I would take care of it until\nMr. Amis's death, and then deliver it to Mr. Merrill.\"\n\nThe entries made thus were those:\n\n\n     \"2 August, Mrs. Susanna Merrill, relict of John Merrill, Esq.\n     buried.\n\n     4 August, 1744, married the Honourable Augustus Hervey, Esq., in\n     the parish Church of Lainston, to Miss Elizabeth Chudleigh,\n     daughter of Col. Thomas Chudleigh, late of Chelsea College, by me,\n     Thos. Amis.\"\n\n\nUnfortunately this register book was taken up to Westminster at the\ntrial of the Duchess and was never returned. Application was made to\nElbrow Woodcock, solicitor in the trial, for the return of the book, by\nthe then rector and patron of the living, but in vain; and in December,\n1777, a new register book was purchased for the parish.\n\nThe Earl recovered, and did not die till some years later, in 1775, when\nAugustus John did succeed to the earldom.\n\nIn 1751, the Prince of Wales died, and this necessitated a rearrangement\nof the household of the Princess. Elizabeth was reappointed maid of\nhonour to her, still in her maiden name. Soon after--that is, in\n1752--the Duke of Hamilton married the beautiful Miss Gunning.\n\nIn 1760 the king was dead. \"Charles Townshend, receiving an account of\nthe impression the king's death had made,\" writes Walpole, \"was told\nMiss Chudleigh cried. 'What,' said he, 'oysters?'\" \"There is no keeping\noff age,\" he writes in 1767, \"as Miss Chudleigh does, by sticking roses\nand sweet peas in one's hair.\"\n\nBefore this, in 1765, the Duke of Kingston's affection for her seeming\nto wane, Elizabeth, who was getting fat as well as old, started for\nCarlsbad to drink the waters. \"She has no more wanted the Carlsbad\nwaters than you did,\" wrote Lord Chesterfield. \"Is it to show the Duke\nof Kingston he can not live without her? A dangerous experiment, which\nmay possibly convince him that he can. There is a trick, no doubt, in\nit, but what, I neither know nor care.\" \"Is the fair, or, at least, the\nfat Miss Chudleigh with you still? It must be confessed she knows the\narts of courts to be so received at Dresden and so connived at in\nLeicester Fields.\"\n\nAt last the bonds of a marriage in which he was never allowed even to\nspeak with his wife became intolerable to Captain Hervey; and some\nnegotiations were entered into between them, whereby it was agreed that\nshe should institute a suit in the Consistory Court of the Bishop of\nLondon for the jactitation of the marriage, and that he should not\nproduce evidence to establish it. The case came on in the Michaelmas\nterm, 1768, and was in form, proceedings to restrain the Hon. Augustus\nJohn Hervey from asserting that Elizabeth Chudleigh was his wife, \"to\nthe great danger of his soul's health, no small prejudice to the said\nHon. Elizabeth Chudleigh, and pernicious example of others.\"\n\nThere was a counter-suit of Captain Hervey against her, in which he\nasserted that in 1743 or 1744, being then a minor of the age of\nseventeen or eighteen, he had contracted himself in marriage to\nElizabeth Chudleigh, and she to him; and that they had been married in\nthe house of Mr. Merrill, on August 9, 1744, at eleven o'clock at night,\nby the Rev. Thomas Amis, since deceased, and in the presence of Mrs.\nHanmer and Mr. Mountenay, both also deceased.\n\nAs will be seen, the counter-libel was incorrectly drawn. The marriage\nhad not taken place in the house, but in the church; Mr. Hervey was aged\ntwenty, not seventeen or eighteen; and Anne Craddock, the sole surviving\nwitness of the ceremony, was not mentioned. The register of the marriage\nwas not produced,[6] and no serious attempt was made to establish it.\nAccordingly, on February 10, 1769, sentence was given, declaring the\nmarriage form gone through in 1744 to have been null and void, and to\nrestrain Mr. Hervey from asserting his claim to be husband to Miss\nElizabeth Chudleigh, and condemning him in costs to the sum of one\nhundred pounds.\n\nAs the Attorney-General said at her subsequent trial, \"a grosser\nartifice, I believe, than this suit was never fabricated.\"\n\nOn March 8, 1769, the Duke of Kingston married Elizabeth Chudleigh by\nspecial licence from the Archbishop, the minister who performed it being\nthe Rev. Samuel Harper, of the British Museum, and the Church, St.\nMargaret's, Westminster. The Prince and Princess of Wales wore favours\non the occasion.\n\nNo attempt was made during the lifetime of the Duke to dispute the\nlegality of the marriage. Neither he nor Elizabeth had the least doubt\nthat the former marriage had been legally dissolved. It was, no doubt,\nthe case that Captain Hervey made no real attempt to prove his\nmarriage, he was as impatient of the bond as was she. It can hardly be\ndoubted that the sentence of the Ecclesiastical Court was just. Captain\nHervey was a minor at the time, and the poor girl had been deluded into\nmarrying him by her wretched aunt. Advantage had been taken of her--a\nmere girl--by the woman who was her natural guardian in the absence of\nher mother. Such a marriage would at once be annulled in the Court of\nthe Church of Rome; it would be annulled in a modern English divorce\ncourt.\n\nThe fortune of the Duke was not entailed; his Grace had, therefore, the\noption to bequeath it as seemed best to his inclination. His nearest of\nkin were his nephews, Evelyn and Charles Meadows, sons of Lady Francis\nPierrepont; Charles was in 1806 created Earl Manners; he had previously\nchanged his name to Pierrepont, and been created Baron Pierrepont and\nViscount Newark in 1796.\n\nThe Duke was and remained warmly attached to the Duchess. She made him\nhappy. She had plenty of conversation, had her mind stored with gossip,\nand though old, oldened gracefully and pleasantly. Her bitter enemy--an\nold servant and confidant, who furnished the materials for the\n\"Authentic Detail,\" says, \"Contrarily gifted and disposed, they were\nfrequently on discordant terms, but she had a strong hold on his mind.\"\n\nOn September 23, 1773, the Duke died. The Duchess had anticipated his\ndeath. He had already made his will, bequeathing to her the entire\nincome of his estates during her life, subject to the proviso that she\nremained in a state of widowhood. This did not at all please the\nDuchess, and directly she saw that her husband was dying she sent for a\nsolicitor, a Mr. Field, to draw up a new will, omitting the obnoxious\nproviso; she was only by two years on the right side of fifty, and might\nmarry again. When Mr. Field was introduced to the Duke, he saw that the\ndying man was not in a mental condition capable of executing a will, and\nhe refused to have anything to do with an attempt to extort his\nsignature from him. The Duchess was very angry; but the refusal of Mr.\nField was most fortunate for her, as, had the will proposed been\nexecuted, it would most indubitably have been set aside.\n\nAs soon as the Duke was dead the dowager Duchess determined to enjoy\nlife. She had a pleasure yacht built, placed in command of it an officer\nwho had served in the navy, fitted it up with every luxury, sailed for\nItaly, and visited Rome, where the Pope and the cardinals received her\nwith great courtesy. Indeed, she was given up one of the palaces of the\ncardinals for her residence. Whilst she was amusing herself in Italy\nsomething happened in England that was destined to materially spoil her\nhappiness. Anne Craddock was still alive, the sole witness of her\nmarriage that survived. She was in bad circumstances, and applied to Mr.\nField for pecuniary relief. He refused it, but the Duchess sent to offer\nher twenty guineas per annum. This Anne Craddock refused, and gave\nintimation to Mr. Evelyn Meadows that she had information of importance\nwhich she could divulge.\n\nWhen Mr. Meadows heard what Anne Craddock had to say, he set the\nmachinery of the law in motion to obtain the prosecution of the Duchess,\nin the hopes of convicting her of bigamy, and then of upsetting the will\nof the late Duke in her favour. A bill of indictment for bigamy was\npreferred against her; the bill was found, Mr. Field had notice of the\nprocedure, and the Duchess was advised to return instantly to England\nand appear to the indictment, to prevent an outlawry.\n\nAt this time--that is, in 1775--the Earl of Bristol died without issue,\nand Augustus John, her first husband, succeeded to the title.\n\nThe anxieties of the Duchess were not confined to the probable issue of\nthe trial. Samuel Foote, the comedian, took a despicable advantage of\nher situation to attempt to extort money from her. He wrote a farce,\nentitled \"A Trip to Calais,\" in which he introduced her Grace under the\nsobriquet of Lady Kitty Crocodile, and stuffed the piece with\nparticulars relative to the private history of the Duchess, which he had\nobtained from Miss Penrose, a young lady who had been about her person\nfor many years. When the piece was finished, he contrived to have it\ncommunicated to her Grace that the Haymarket Theatre would open with the\nentertainment in which she was held up to ridicule and scorn. She was\nalarmed, and sent for Foote. He attended with the piece in his pocket.\nShe desired him to read a part of it. He obeyed; and had not read far\nbefore she could no longer control herself, but, starting up in a rage,\nexclaimed, \"This is scandalous, Mr. Foote! Why, what a wretch you have\nmade me!\" After a few turns round the room, she composed herself to\ninquire on what terms he would suppress the play. Foote had the\neffrontery to demand two thousand pounds. She offered him fourteen, then\nsixteen hundred pounds; but he, grasping at too much, lost all. She\nconsulted the Duke of Newcastle, and the Lord Chamberlain was apprised\nof the circumstances, and his interference solicited. He sent for the\nmanuscript copy of the \"Trip to Calais,\" perused, and censured it. In\nthe event of its publication she threatened to prosecute Foote for\nlibel. Public opinion ranged itself on the side of the Duchess, and Dr.\nSchomberg only expressed its opinion when he said that \"Foote deserved\nto be run through the body for such an attempt. It was more ignoble than\nthe conduct of a highwayman.\"\n\nOn April 17, 1776, the trial of the Duchess came on in Westminster Hall,\nand lasted five days. The principal object argued was the admission, or\nnot, of a sentence of the Spiritual Court, in a suit for jactitation of\nmarriage, in an indictment for polygamy. As the judges decided against\nthe admission of such a sentence in bar to evidence, the fact of the two\nmarriages was most clearly proved, and a conviction of course followed.\nThe Duchess was tried by the Peers, a hundred and nineteen of whom sat\nand passed judgment upon her, all declaring \"Guilty, upon mine honour,\"\nexcept the Duke of Newcastle, who pronounced \"Guilty, erroneously; but\nnot intentionally, upon mine honour.\"\n\nNo sooner did the Duchess see that her cause was lost than she\ndetermined to escape out of England. The penalty for bigamy was death,\nbut she could escape this sentence by claiming the benefits of the\nstatute 3 and 4 William and Mary, which left her in a condition to be\nburnt in the hand, or imprisoned; but she claimed the benefit of the\npeerage, and the Lord Chief Baron, having conferred with the rest of the\njudges, delivered their unanimous opinion that she ought \"to be\nimmediately discharged.\" However, her prosecutors prepared a writ \"ne\nexeat regno,\" to obtain her arrest and the deprivation of her personal\nproperty. To escape this she fled to Dover, where her yacht was in\nwaiting, and crossed to Calais, whilst amusing the public and her\nprosecutors by issuing invitations to a dinner at Kingston House, and\ncausing her carriage to appear in the most fashionable quarters of the\ntown. Mr. Meadows had carried his first point; she could no longer call\nherself Dowager Duchess of Kingston in England, but she was reinstated\nin her position of wife to Augustus John Hervey, and was therefore now\nCountess of Bristol. Mr. Meadows next proceeded to attack the will of\nthe late Duke, but in this attempt he utterly failed. The will was\nconfirmed, and Elizabeth, Countess of Bristol, was acknowledged as\nlawfully possessed of life interest in the property of the Duke so long\nas she remained unmarried. Mr. Meadows was completely ruined, and his\nsole gain was to keep the unhappy woman an exile from England.\n\nAbroad the Countess was still received as Duchess of Kingston. She lived\nin considerable state, and visited Italy, Russia, and France. Her visit\nto St. Petersburg was splendid, and to ensure a favourable reception by\nthe Empress Catharine she sent her a present of some of the valuable\npaintings by old masters from Kingston House. When in Russia she\npurchased an estate near the capital, to which she gave the name of\nChudleigh, and which cost her 25,000_l._[7] The Empress also gave her a\nproperty on the Neva. She had a corvette built of mahogany which was to\nbe a present to the Empress, but the vessel stranded on the coast of\nIngermanland. Eight of the cannons out of her are now at Chudleigh,\nalmost the only things there that recall the Duchess. She gave\nmagnificent entertainments; at one of these, to which the Empress was\ninvited, a hundred and forty of her own servants attended in the\nKingston livery of black turned up with red and silver.\n\nOn her return from Russia she bought an estate at Montmartre, which cost\nher 9,000_l._, and another that belonged to one of the French royal\nprinces at Saint Assise, which cost her 55,000_l._ The ch\u00e2teau was so\nlarge that three hundred beds could be made up in it.\n\nShe was getting on in years, but did not lose her energy, her vivacity,\nand her selfishness. Once in Rome, the story goes, she had been invited\nto visit some tombs that were famous. She replied with a touch of real\nfeeling: \"Ce n'est pas la peine de chercher des tombeaux, on en porte\nassez dans son coeur.\"\n\nThe account of her death shall be given in the words of the author of\n\"Authentic Detail.\"\n\n\"She was at dinner, when her servants received intelligence of a\nsentence respecting the house near Paris having been awarded against\nher. She flew into a violent passion, and, in the agitation of her mind\nand body, burst an internal blood-vessel. Even this she appeared to have\nsurmounted, until a few days afterwards, on the morning of the 26th\nAugust (1788), when about to rise from her bed, a servant who had long\nbeen with her endeavoured at dissuasion. The Duchess addressed her thus:\n'I am not very well, but I _will_ rise. At your peril disobey me; I will\nget up and walk about the room. Ring for the secretary to assist me.'\nShe was obeyed, dressed, and the secretary entered the chamber. The\nDuchess then walked about, complained of thirst, and said, 'I could\ndrink a glass of my fine Madeira and eat a slice of toasted bread; I\nshall be quite well afterwards; but let it be a large glass of wine.'\nThe attendant reluctantly brought and the Duchess drank the wine. She\nthen said, 'I knew the Madeira would do me good. My heart feels oddly; I\nwill have another glass.' She then walked a little about the room, and\nafterwards said, 'I will lie on the couch.' She sat on the couch, a\nfemale having hold of each hand. In this situation she soon appeared to\nhave fallen into a profound sleep, until the women found her hands\ncolder than ordinary; other domestics were rung for, and the Duchess was\nfound to have expired, as the wearied labourer sinks into the arms of\nrest.\"\n\nWas it a touch of final malice or of real regret that caused the old\nlady, by codicil to her will dated May 10, 1787, to leave pearl earrings\nand necklace to the Marquise de la Touche? Was it a token that she\nforgave her the cruel book, \"Les aventures trop amoureuses; ou,\nElizabeth Chudleigh,\" which she wrote, or caused to be written, for the\nblackening of her rival, and the whitewashing of herself? Let us hope it\nwas so. The proviso in the Duke's will saved her from herself; but for\nthat she would have married an adventurer who called himself the\nChevalier de Wortha, a man who obtained great influence over her, and\nfinally died by his own hand.\n\nElizabeth Chudleigh's character and career have never been sketched by\nfriends; her enemies, those jealous of her fascinations, angry at her\nsuccess, discontented with not having been sufficiently considered in\nher will, have given us their impressions of her, have poured out all\nthe evil they knew and imagined of her. She has been hardly used. The\nonly perfectly reliable authority for her history is the report of her\ntrial, and that covers only one portion of her story. The \"Authentic\nDetail\" published by G. Kearsley, London, in 1788, is anonymous. It is\nfairly reliable, but tinctured by animosity. The book \"Les Aventures\ntrop Amoureuses, ou, Elizabeth Chudleigh, ex-duchesse douairi\u00e8re de\nKingston, aujourd'hui Comtesse de Bristol, et la Marquise de la Touche.\nLondres, aux depens des Interessez, 1776,\" was composed for the\njustification of Madame de la Touche, and with all the venom of a\ndiscomfited and supplanted rival.\n\nAn utterly worthless book, \"Histoire de la vie et des Aventures de la\nDuchesse de Kingston, a Londres, et se trouve \u00e0 Paris, Chez Quillot,\n1789,\" is fiction. It pretends to be based on family papers. At the\ncommencement it gives a portion of the diary of Col. Thomas Chudleigh,\nin which, among other impossibilities, he records his having reduced the\nrents of his tenants on his estates twenty per cent. because the year\nwas bad. As it happened, Col. Thomas Chudleigh neither possessed an acre\nof land, nor a tenant.\n\nIn 1813 appeared \"La Duchesse de Kingston, memoires r\u00e9dig\u00e9s par M. de\nFavolle,\" in two volumes; this is based solely on the preceding with\nrich additions from the imagination of the author. Not a statement in it\ncan be trusted.\n\nSome little reliable information may be found in the \"Memoires de la\nBaronne d'Oberkirch,\" Paris 1853.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[4] In Col. Vivian's \"Visitations of the County of Devon,\" the pedigree\nis not so complete. He was unaware who the wife of Thos. Chudleigh was,\nand he had not seen the will of the duchess.\n\n[5] Mrs. Chudleigh died in 1756, and her will mentions her daughter by\nher maiden name.\n\n[6] Mr. John Merrill died February 1767, and his burial was entered in\nit. Mr. Bathurst, who had married his daughter, found the register book\nin the hall, and handed it over to the rector, Mr. Kinchin. Nevertheless\nit was not produced at the hearing of the case for jactitation in the\nConsistory Court.\n\n[7] This place still bears the name. It is on the main road through\nLivland and Esthonia to St. Petersburg; about twenty miles from Narwa.\nIt also goes by the name of Fockenhof. The present mansion is more\nmodern, and belongs to the family of Von Wilcken.\n\n\n\n\nGeneral Mallet.\n\n\nOn the return of Napoleon to Paris from Moscow, he was depressed with\nnews that troubled him more than the loss of his legions. The news that\nhad reached him related to perhaps the most extraordinary conspiracy\nthat was ever devised, and which was within an ace of complete success.\nIt was the news of this conspiracy that induced him to desert the army\nin the snows of Russia and hasten to Paris. The thoughts of this\nconspiracy frustrated by an accident, as Alison says, \"incessantly\noccupied his mind during his long and solitary journey.\"\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" said Napoleon, when the report of the conspiracy was read\nover to him, \"we must no longer disbelieve in miracles.\"\n\nClaude Fran\u00e7ois Mallet belonged to a noble family in the Franche Comt\u00e9.\nHe was born on June 28th, 1754, at Dole, and passed his early life in\nthe army, where he commanded one of the first battalions of the Jura at\nthe commencement of the Revolution. In May 1793, he was elevated to the\nrank of adjutant-General, and in August 1799, made General of Brigade,\nand commanded a division under Championnet. He was a man of\nenthusiastically Republican views, and viewed the progress of Napoleon\nwith dissatisfaction mingled with envy. There can be no question as to\nwhat his opinions were at first; whether he changed them afterwards is\nnot so certain. He was a reserved, hard, and bitter man, ambitious and\nrestless. Envy of Napoleon, jealousy of his success seems to have been\nthe ruling motive in his heart that made of him a conspirator, and not\ngenuine disgust at C\u00e6sarism.\n\nBonaparte knew his political opinions; and though he did not fear the\nman, he did not trust him. He became implicated in some illegal\nexactions at Civita Vecchia, in the Roman States, and was in consequence\ndeprived of his command, and sent before a commission of enquiry at\nParis, in July 1807; and, in virtue of their sentence, he was confined\nfor a short while, and then again set at liberty and reinstated. In\n1808, when the war in the Peninsula broke out, Mallet entered at Dijon\ninto a plot, along with some old anarchists, for the overthrow of the\nEmperor, among them the ex-General Guillaume, who betrayed the plot, and\nMallet was arrested and imprisoned in La Force. Napoleon did not care\nthat conspiracies against himself and his throne should be made public,\nand consequently he contented himself with the detention of Mallet\nalone.\n\nIn prison, the General did not abandon his schemes, and he had the lack\nof prudence to commit them to paper. This fell into the hands of the\nGovernment. The minister regarded the scheme as chimerical and\nunimportant. The papers were shown to Napoleon, who apparently regarded\nthe scheme or the man as really dangerous, and ordered him to perpetual\ndetention in prison.\n\nTime passed, and Mallet and his schemes were forgotten. Who could\nsuppose that a solitary prisoner, without means, without the opportunity\nof making confederates, could menace the safety of the Empire?\n\nThen came the Russian campaign, in 1812. Mallet saw what Napoleon did\nnot; the inevitable failure that must attend it; and he immediately\nrenewed his attempts to form a plot against the Emperor.\n\nBut the prison of La Force was bad headquarters from which to work. He\npretended to be ill, and he was removed to a hospital, that of the\nDoctor Belhomme near the Barri\u00e8re du Tr\u00f4ne. In this house were the two\nbrothers Polignac, a M. de Puyvert, and the Abb\u00e9 Lafon, who in 1814\nwrote and published an account of this conspiracy of Mallet. These men\nwere Royalists, and Mallet was a Republican. It did not matter so long\nas Napoleon could be overthrown, how divergent their views might be as\nto what form of Government was to take the place of the Empire.\n\nThey came to discussion, and the Royalists supposed that they had\nsucceeded in convincing Mallet. He, on his side, was content to\ndissemble his real views, and to make use of these men as his agents.\n\nThe Polignac brothers were uneasy, they were afraid of the consequences,\nand they mistrusted the man who tried to draw them into his plot.\nPerhaps, also, they considered his scheme too daring to succeed.\nAccordingly they withdrew from the hospital, to be out of his reach. It\nwas not so with the others. The Polignacs had been mixed up in the\nenterprise of Georges, and had no wish to be again involved. Whether\nthere were many others in the plot we do not know, Lafon names only\nfour, and it does not seem that M. de Puyvert took a very active part in\nit.\n\nMallet's new scheme was identical with the old one that had been taken\nfrom him and shown to Napoleon. Napoleon had recognized its daring and\nability, and had not despised it. That no further fear of Mallet was\nentertained is clear, or he would never have been transferred from the\nprison to a private hospital, where he would be under very little\nsupervision.\n\nIn his hospital, Mallet drew up the following report of a Session of the\nSenate, imagined by himself:\n\n\n     \"S\u00c9NAT CONSERVATEUR\n\n     \"Session of 22 October, 1812.\n\n     \"The Session was opened at 8 P.M., under the presidency of Senator\n     Sieyes.\n\n     \"The occasion of this extraordinary Session was the receipt of the\n     news of the death of the Emperor Napoleon, under the walls of\n     Moscow, on the 8th of the month.\n\n     \"The Senate, after mature consideration of the condition of affairs\n     caused by this event, named a Commission to consider the danger of\n     the situation, and to arrange for the maintenance of Government and\n     order. After having received the report of this Commission, the\n     following orders were passed by the Senate.\n\n     \"That as the Imperial Government has failed to satisfy the\n     aspirations of the French people, and secure peace, it be decreed\n     annulled forthwith.\n\n     \"That all such officers military and civil as shall use their\n     authority prejudicially to the re-establishment of the Republic,\n     shall be declared outlawed.\n\n     \"That a Provisional Government be established, to consist of 13\n     members:--Moreau, President; Carnot, Vice-President; General\n     Augereau, Bigonet, Destutt-Tracy, Florent Guyot, Frochot; Mathieu\n     Montmorency, General Mallet, Noailles, Truguet; Volney, Garat.\n\n     \"That this Provisional Government be required to watch over the\n     internal and external safety of the State, and to enter into\n     negociations with the military powers for the re-establishment of\n     peace.\n\n     \"That a constitution shall be drawn up and submitted to the General\n     Assembly of the French realm.\n\n     \"That the National Guard be reconstituted as formerly.\n\n     \"That a general Amnesty be proclaimed for all political offences;\n     that all emigrants, exiles, be permitted to return.\n\n     \"That the freedom of the Press be restored.\n\n     \"That the command of the army of the Centre, and which consists of\n     50,000 men, and is stationed near Paris, be given to General\n     Lecombe.\n\n     \"That General Mallet replaces General Hulin as commandant of Paris,\n     and in the first division. He will have the right to nominate the\n     officers in the general staff that will surround him.\"\n\n\nThere were many other orders, 19 in all, but these will suffice to\nindicate the tendency of the document. It was signed by the President\nand his Secretaries.\n\n\n     President, SIEYES.\n\n     Secretaries, LANJUINAIS, et GREGOIRE.\n\n     \"Approved, and compared with a similar paper in my own hands,\n\n     Signed, MALLET,\n     General of Division, Commandant of the main army of\n     Paris, and of the forces of the First Division.\"\n\n\nThis document, which was designed to be shown to the troops, to the\nofficers and officials, was drawn up in a form so close to the genuine\nform, and the signatures and seals were so accurately imitated, that the\ndocument was not likely at the first glance to excite mistrust.\n\nMoreover, Mallet had drawn up an order for the day, and a proclamation,\nwhich was printed in many thousand copies.\n\nOn the 22nd October, 1812, at 10 o'clock at night, after he had been\nplaying cards with great composure in the hospital, Mallet made his\nescape, along with four others, one was the Abb\u00e9 Lafon, another a\ncorporal named Rateau, whom he had named as his aide-de-camp. Mallet had\njust twelve francs in his pocket, and so furnished he embarked on his\nundertaking to upset the throne of the Emperor. He at once went to a\nSpanish monk, whose acquaintance he had made in prison; and in his rooms\nfound his general's uniform which had been brought there by a woman the\nevening before. Uniforms and swords for his confederates were also\nready. But it rained that night--it rained in torrents, and the streets\nof Paris ran with water. It has been remarked that rain in Paris has a\nvery sobering effect on political agitations, and acts even better than\nbayonets in preventing a disturbance of the public peace.\n\nMallet and his confederates could not leave their shelter till after\nmidnight, and some of them did not appear at the place of rendezvous\ntill 6 o'clock in the morning. Indisputably this had much to do with the\ndefeat of the plot.\n\nThe success of the undertaking depended on darkness, on the sudden\nbewilderment of minds, and the paralysis of the government through the\nassassination of some of the ministers. About 2 A.M. Mallet appeared in\nhis general's uniform, attended by some of his confederates also in\nuniform, at the Popincour barracks, and demanded to see the Commandant\nSoulier at once, giving his name as Lamothe. Soulier was in bed asleep.\nHe was also unwell. He was roused from his slumbers, hastily dressed\nhimself, and received a sealed letter, which he broke open, and read:\n\n\n     \"To the General of Division, Commandant-in-Chief of the troops\n     under arms in Paris, and the troops of the First Division, Soulier,\n     Commandant of the 10th Cohort.\"\n\n     \"General Headquarters,\n     \"Place Vend\u00f4me.\n     \"23_rd_ Oct., 1812, 10 o'clock a.m.\n\n     \"M. LE COMMANDANT,--I have given orders to the General Lamothe with\n     a police commissioner to attend at your barracks, and to read\n     before you and your Cohort the decree of the senate consequent on\n     the receipt of the news of the death of the Emperor, and the\n     cessation of the Imperial Government. The said general will\n     communicate to you the Order for the Day, which you will be pleased\n     to further to the General of Brigade. You are required to get the\n     troops under arms with all possible despatch and quietness. By\n     daybreak, the officers who are in barracks will be sent to the\n     Place de Gr\u00e8ve, there to await their companies, which will there\n     assemble, after the instructions which General Lamothe will furnish\n     have been carried out.\"\n\n\nThen ensued a series of dispositions for the troops, and the whole was\nsigned by Mallet.\n\nWhen Soulier had read this letter, Mallet, who pretended to be General\nLamothe, handed him the document already given, relating to the assembly\nof the Senate, and its decisions. Then he gave him the Order for the\nDay, for the 23rd and 24th October.\n\nColonel Soulier, raised from sleep, out of health, bewildered, did not\nfor a moment mistrust the messenger, or the documents handed to him. He\nhastened at once to put in execution the orders he had received.\n\nThe same proceedings were gone through in the barracks of Les Minimes,\nand of Picpus; the decree of the Senate, the Order of the Day, and a\nProclamation, were read by torchlight.\n\nEverywhere the same success. The officers had not the smallest doubt as\nto the authenticity of the papers presented to them. Everywhere also the\nProclamation announcing the death of the Emperor, the cessation of the\nEmpire, and the establishment of the Provisional Government was being\nplacarded about.\n\nAt 6 A.M., at the head of a troop, Mallet, still acting as General\nLamothe, marched before the prison of La Force, and the Governor was\nordered to open the gates. The Decree of the Senate and the Order of the\nDay were read to him, and he was required at once to discharge three\nstate prisoners he held, General Guidal, Lahorie, and a Corsican,\nBocchejampe, together with certain officers there confined. He did as\nrequired, and Mallet separated his troops into four detachments, keeping\none under his own command, and placing the others under the orders of\nGuidal, Lahorie and Bocchejampe.\n\nGuidal and Lahorie, by his orders, now marched to the Ministry of\nPolice, where they arrested Savary, Duke of Rovigo, Minister of Police.\nAt the same time Boutreux, another confederate, had gone to the\nprefecture of the Paris police, had arrested the prefect, Pasquier, and\nsent him to be confined in La Force.\n\nMallet, now at the head of 150 men, went to the \u00c9tat-Major de-la-place,\nto go through the same farce with the Commandant-de-place, and get him\nto subscribe the Order for the Day. Count Hullin refused. Mallet\npresented a pistol at his head, fired, and Hullin fell covered with\nblood to the ground. Mallet left him for dead, but fortunately only his\njaw was broken. By means of a forged order addressed to the commandant\nof one of the regiments of the paid guard of Paris, he occupied the\nNational Bank, in which, at the time, there was a considerable treasure\nin specie.\n\nThe \u00c9tat-Major of Paris was a post of the highest importance, as it was\nthe headquarters of the whole military authority in Paris. Before Mallet\napproached it, he sent a packet to the Adjutant-General Doucet, of a\nsimilar tenor to that given to Soulier and the other colonels, and\ncontaining his nomination as general of brigade, and a treasury order\nfor a hundred thousand francs.\n\nSoulier, Colonel of the 10th Cohort, obeying the orders he had received,\nthe authenticity of which he did not for a moment dispute, had in the\nmeantime made himself master of the H\u00f4tel-de-Ville, and had stationed a\nstrong force in the square before the building. Frochot, Prefect of the\nSeine, was riding into Paris from his country house at half-past eight\nin the morning, when he was met by his servants, in great excitement,\nwith a note from Mallet, on the outside of which were written the\nominous words \"Fuit Imperator.\" Now it so happened that no tidings of\nthe Emperor had been received for twenty-five days, and much uneasiness\nwas felt concerning him. When Frochot therefore received this notice, he\nbelieved it, and hurried to the H\u00f4tel-de-Ville. There he received a\ndespatch from Mallet, under the title of Governor of Paris, ordering him\nto make ready the principal apartment in the building for the use of\nthe Provisional Government. Not for a moment did Frochot remember\nthat--even if the Emperor were dead, there was the young Napoleon, to\nwhom his allegiance was due; he at once obeyed the orders he had\nreceived, and began to make the H\u00f4tel ready for the meeting of the\nProvisional Government. Afterwards when he was reminded that there was a\nson to Napoleon, and that his duty was to support him, Frochot answered,\n\"Ah! I forgot that. I was distracted with the news.\"\n\nBy means of the forged orders despatched everywhere, all the barriers of\nParis had been seized and were closed, and positive orders were issued\nthat no one was to be allowed to enter or leave Paris.\n\nMallet now drew up before the \u00c9tat-Major-G\u00e9n\u00e9ral, still accompanied and\nobeyed by the officer and detachment. Nothing was wanting now but the\ncommand of the adjutant-general's office to give to Mallet the entire\ndirection of the military force of Paris, with command of the telegraph,\nand with it of all France. With that, and with the treasury already\nseized, he would be master of the situation. In another ten minutes\nParis would be in his hand, and with Paris the whole of France.\n\nAn accident--an accident only--at that moment saved the throne of\nNapoleon. Doucet was a little suspicious about the orders--or allowed it\nafterwards to be supposed that he was. He read them, and stood in\nperplexity. He would have put what doubts presented themselves aside,\nhad it not been for his aide-de-camp, Laborde. It happened that Laborde\nhad had charge of Mallet in La Force, and had seen him there quite\nrecently. He came down to enter the room where was Doucet, standing in\ndoubt before Mallet. Mallet's guard was before the door, and would have\nprevented him from entering; however, he peremptorily called to them to\nsuffer him to pass, and the men, accustomed to obey his voice, allowed\nhim to enter. The moment he saw Mallet in his general's uniform, he\nrecognised him and said, \"But--how the devil!-- That is my prisoner. How\ncame he to escape?\" Doucet still hesitated, and attempted to explain,\nwhen Laborde cut his superior officer short with, \"There is something\nwrong here. Arrest the fellow, and I will go at once to the minister of\npolice.\"\n\nMallet put his hand in his pocket to draw out the pistol with which he\nhad shot Hullin, when the gesture was observed in a mirror opposite, and\nbefore he had time to draw and cock the pistol, Doucet and Laborde were\non him, and had disarmed him.\n\nLaborde, with great promptitude, threw open the door, and announced to\nthe soldiers the deceit that had been practised on them, and assured\nthem that the tidings of the death of the Emperor were false.\n\nThe arrest of Mallet disconcerted the whole conspiracy. Had Generals\nLahorie and Guidal been men of decision and resolution they might still\nhave saved it, but this they were not; though at the head of\nconsiderable bodies of men, the moment they saw that their chief had met\nwith a hitch in carrying out his plan, they concluded that all was lost,\nand made the best of their way from their posts to places of\nconcealment.\n\nIt was not till 8 o'clock that Saulnier, General Secretary of Police,\nheard of the arrest and imprisonment of his chief, Savary, Duke of\nRovigo. He at once hastened to Camba\u00e7\u00e9r\u00e8s, the President of the Ministry\nin the absence of the Emperor, and astonished and alarmed him with the\ntidings. Then Saulnier hastened to Hullin, whom he found weltering in\nhis blood, and unable to speak.\n\nBaron Pasquier, released from La Force, attempted to return to his\nprefecture. The soldiers posted before it refused to admit him, and\nthreatened to shoot him, believing that he had escaped from prison, and\nhe was obliged to take refuge in an adjoining house. Laborde, who about\nnoon came there, was arrested by the soldiers, and conducted by them as\na prisoner to the \u00c9tat-Major-G\u00ean\u00e9ral, to deliver him over to General\nMallet; and it was with difficulty that they could be persuaded that\nthey had been deceived, and that Mallet was himself, at that moment, in\nirons.\n\nSavary, released from La Force, had Mallet and the rest of the\nconspirators brought before him. Soulier also, for having given too\nready a credence to the forged orders, was also placed under arrest, to\nbe tried along with the organisers and carriers out of the plot.\n\nMallet confessed with great composure that he had planned the whole, but\nhe peremptorily refused to say whether he had aiders or sympathisers\nelsewhere.\n\nLahorie could not deny that he had taken an active part, but declared\nthat it was against his will, his whole intention being to make a run\nfor the United States, there to spend the rest of his days in\ntranquillity. He asserted that he had really believed that the Emperor\nwas dead.\n\nGuidal tried to pass the whole off as a joke; but when he saw that he\nwas being tried for his life, he became greatly and abjectly alarmed.\n\nNext day the generals and those in the army who were under charge were\nbrought before a military commission. Saulnier had an interesting\ninterview with Mallet that day. He passed through the hall where Mallet\nwas dining, when the prisoner complained that he was not allowed the use\nof a knife. Saulnier at once ordered that he might be permitted one; and\nthis consideration seems to have touched Mallet, for he spoke with more\nfrankness to Saulnier than he did before his judges. When the General\nSecretary of Police asked him how he could dream of success attending\nsuch a mad enterprise, Mallet replied, \"I had already three regiments of\ninfantry on my side. Very shortly I would have been surrounded by the\nthousands who are weary of the Napoleonic yoke, and are longing for a\nchange of order. Now, I was convinced that the moment the news of my\nsuccess in Paris reached him, Napoleon would leave his army and fly\nhome, I would have been prepared for him at Mayence, and have had him\nshot there. If it had not been for the cowardice of Guidal and Lahorie,\nmy plot would have succeeded. I had resolved to collect 50,000 men at\nChalons sur Marne to cover Paris. The promise I would have made to send\nall the conscripts to their homes, the moment the crisis was over, would\nhave rallied all the soldiers to my side.\"\n\nOn October 23, the prisoners to the number of twenty-four were tried,\nand fourteen were condemned to be shot, among these, Mallet, Guidai,\nLahorie, and the unfortunate Soulier. Mallet at the trial behaved with\ngreat intrepidity. \"Who are your accomplices?\" asked the President. \"The\nwhole of France,\" answered Mallet, \"and if I had succeeded, you yourself\nat their head. One who openly attacks a government by force, if he\nfails, expects to die.\" When he was asked to make his defence,\n\"Monsieur,\" he said, \"a man who has constituted himself defender of the\nrights of his Fatherland, needs no defence.\"\n\nSoulier put in as an apology, that the news of the death of the Emperor\nhad produced such a sudorific effect on him, that he had been obliged to\nchange his shirt four times in a quarter of an hour. This was not\nconsidered sufficient to establish his attachment to the Imperial\ngovernment.\n\nIn the afternoon of the same day the fourteen were conveyed to the plain\nof Grenelle to be shot, when pardon was accorded by the Empress Regent\nto two of the condemned, the Corporal Rateau, and Colonel Rabbe. When\nthe procession passed through the Rue Grenelle, Mallet saw a group of\nstudents looking on; \"Young men,\" he called to them, \"remember the 23rd\nOctober.\" Arrived on the place of execution, some of the condemned cried\nout, \"Vive l'empereur!\" only a few \"Vive la R\u00e9publique.\"\n\nMallet requested that his eyes might not be bandaged, and maintained the\nutmost coolness. He received permission, at his own desire, to give the\nrequisite orders to the soldiers drawn up to shoot him and his party.\n\"Peloton! Present!\" The soldiers, moved by the tragic catastrophe,\nobeyed, but not promptly. \"That is bad!\" called Mallet, \"imagine you are\nbefore the foe. Once again--Attention!--Present!\" This time it was\nbetter. \"Not so bad this time, but still not well,\" said the General;\n\"now pay attention, and mind, when I say Fire, that all your guns are\ndischarged as one. It is a good lesson for you to see how brave men die.\nNow then, again, Attention!\" For a quarter of an hour he put the men\nthrough their drill, till he observed that his comrades were in the most\ndeplorable condition. Some had fainted, some were in convulsions. Then\nhe gave the command: Fire! the guns rattled and the ten fell to the\nground, never to rise again. Mallet alone reeled, for a moment or two\nmaintaining his feet, and then he also fell over, without a sound, and\nwas dead.\n\n\"But for the singular accident,\" says Savary, \"which caused the arrest\nof the Minister of War to fail, Mallet, in a few moments, would have\nbeen master of almost everything; and in a country so much influenced by\nthe contagion of example, there is no saying where his success would\nhave stopped. He would have had possession of the treasury, then\nextremely rich; the post office, the telegraph, and the command of the\nhundred cohorts of the National Guard. He would soon have learned the\nalarming situation in Russia; and nothing could have prevented him from\nmaking prisoner of the Emperor himself if he returned alone, or from\nmarching to meet him, if he had come at the head of his shattered\nforces.\"\n\nAs Alison says, \"When the news reached Napoleon, one only idea took\npossession of his imagination--that in this crisis the succession of his\nson was, by common consent, set aside; one only truth was ever present\nto his mind--that the Imperial Crown rested on himself alone. The fatal\ntruth was brought home to him that the Revolution had destroyed the\nfoundations of hereditary succession; and that the greatest achievements\nby him who wore the diadem afforded no security that it would descend to\nhis progeny. These reflections, which seem to have burst on Napoleon all\nat once, when the news of this extraordinary affair reached him in\nRussia, weighed him down more than all the disasters of the Moscow\nretreat.\"\n\n\n\n\nSchweinichen's Memoirs.\n\n\nMemoirs, says Addison, in the Tatler, are so untrustworthy, so stuffed\nwith lies, that, \"I do hereby give notice to all booksellers and\ntranslators whatsoever, that the word _memoir_ is French for a novel;\nand to require of them, that they sell and translate it accordingly.\"\n\nThere are, however, some memoirs that are trustworthy and dull, and\nothers, again, that are conspicuously trustworthy, and yet are as\nentertaining as a novel, and to this latter category belong the memoirs\nof Hans von Schweinichen, the Silesian Knight, Marshal and Chamberlain\nto the Dukes of Liegnitz and Brieg at the close of the 16th century.\nScherr, a well known writer on German Culture, and a scrupulous observer\nand annotator of all that is ugly and unseemly in the past, says of the\ndiary of Schweinichen: \"It carries us into a noble family at the end of\nthe 16th century and reveals boorish meanness, coarseness and lack of\nculture.\" That is, in a measure, true, but, as is invariably the case\nwith Scherr, he leaves out of sight all the redeeming elements, and\nthere are many, that this transparently sincere diarist discloses.\n\nThe MS. was first discovered and published in 1823, by B\u00fcsching; it was\nrepublished in 1878 at Breslau by Oesterley. The diary extends to the\nyear 1602, and Schweinichen begins with an account of his birth in 1552,\nand his childish years. But we are wrong in saying that he begins with\nhis birth--characteristic of the protestant theological spirit of his\ntimes, he begins with a confession of his faith.\n\nAs a picture of the manners and customs of the highest classes in the\nage just after the Reformation it is unrivalled for its minuteness, and\nfor its interest. The writer, who had not an idea that his diary would\nbe printed, wrote for his own amusement, and, without intending it, drew\na perfect portraiture of himself, without exaggeration of his virtues\nand observation of his faults; indeed the virtues we admire in him, he\nhardly recognised as virtues, and scarcely considered as serious the\nfaults we deplore. In reading his truthful record we are angry with him,\nand yet, he makes us love and respect him, and acknowledge what sterling\ngoodness, integrity, fidelity and honour were in the man.\n\nHans was son of George, Knight of Schweinichen and Mertsch\u00fctz, and was\nborn in the Castle of Gr\u00f6ditzberg belonging to the Dukes of Silesia, of\nwhich his father was castellan, and warden of the Ducal Estates\nthereabouts. The Schweinichens were a very ancient noble Silesian\nfamily, and Hans could prove his purity of blood through the sixteen\ndescents, eight paternal and eight maternal.\n\nIn 1559, Duke Frederick III. was summoned before the Emperor Ferdinand\nI. at Breslau, to answer the accusations of extravagance and oppression\nbrought against him by the Silesian Estates, and was deposed,\nimprisoned, and his son Henry XI. given the Ducal crown instead. The\ndeposition of the Duke obliged the father of our hero to leave\nGr\u00f6ditzberg and retire to his own estates, where Hans was given the\nvillage notary as teacher in reading and writing for a couple of years,\nand was then sent, young noble though he was, to keep the geese for the\nfamily. However, as he played tricks with the geese, put spills into\ntheir beaks, pegging them open, the flock was then withdrawn from his\ncharge. This reminds us of Grettir the Strong, the Icelandic hero, who\nalso as a boy was sent to drive the family geese to pasture, and who\nmaltreated his charge.\n\nHis father sent Hans to be page to the imprisoned Duke Frederick at\nLiegnitz, where also he was to study with the Duke's younger son,\nafterwards Frederick IV. Hans tells us he did not get as many whippings\nas his companion, because he slipped his money-allowance into the\ntutor's palm, and so his delinquencies were passed over. As page, he had\nto serve the Duke at table. A certain measure of wine was allowed the\nimprisoned Duke daily by his son, the reigning Duke; what he did not\ndrink every day, Hans was required to empty into a cask, and when the\ncask was full, the Duke invited some good topers to him, and they sat\nand drank the cask out, then rolled over on the floor. All night Hans\nhad to sit or lie on the floor and watch the drunken Duke.\n\nDuke Frederick took a dislike to the chaplain, and scribbled a lampoon\non him, which may be thus rendered, without injustice to the original:--\n\n\n     \"All the mischief ever done\n     Twixt the old Duke and his son,\n     Comes from that curs't snuffy one\n     Franconian Parson Cut-and-run.\"\n\n\nThe Duke ordered Hans to pin this to the pulpit cushion, and he did so.\nWhen the pastor ascended the pulpit he saw the paper, and instead of a\ntext read it out. The reigning Duke Henry was very angry, and Hans was\nmade the scape-goat, and sent home in disgrace to his father.\n\nIn 1564, Hans attended his father, himself as page, his father as\nMarshal, when Duke Henry and his Duchess visited Stuttgard and Dresden.\nPages were not then allowed to sit astride a horse, they stood in a sort\nof stirrup slung to the pommel, to which they held. At Dresden old\nSchweinichen ran a tilt in a tournament with the elector Augustus and\nunhorsed him, but had sufficient courtesy to at once throw himself off\nhis own horse, as though he also had been cast by the elector. This so\ngratified the latter, that he sent old Schweinichen a gold chain, and a\ndouble florin worth about 4 shillings to the young one.\n\nWhen Hans was fifteen, he went to the marriage of Duke Wenceslas of\nTeschen with the daughter of Duke Franz of Saxony, and received from his\nfather a present of a sword, which, he tells us, cost his father a\nlittle under a pound. One of the interesting features of this diary is\nthat Hans enters the value of everything. For instance, we are given the\nprice of wheat, barley, rye, oats, meat, &c., in 1562, and we learn from\nthis that all kinds of grain cost one fifth or one sixth of what it\ncosts now, and that meat--mutton, was one eighteenth or one twentieth\nthe present cost. For a thaler, 3 shillings, in 1562 as much food could\nbe purchased as would now cost from 25 to 30 shillings. Hans tells us\nwhat pocket money he received from his parents; he put a value on every\npresent he was given, and tells what everything cost him which he give\naway.\n\nIn the early spring of 1569 Duke Henry XI. went to Lublin in Poland to a\ndiet. King Sigismund was old, and the Duke hoped to get elected to the\nkingdom of Poland on his death. This was a costly expedition, as the\nDuke had to make many presents, and to go in great state. Hans went with\nhim, and gives an infinitely droll account of their reception, the\nmiserable housing, his own dress, one leg black, the other yellow, and\nhow many ells of ribbon went to make the bows on his jacket. His father\nand he, and a nobleman called Zedlitz and his son were put in a garret\nunder the tiles in bitter frost--and \"faith,\" says Hans, \"our pigs at\nhome are warmer in their styes.\"\n\nThis expedition which led to no such result as the Duke hoped, exhausted\nhis treasury, and exasperated the Silesian Estates. All the nobles had\nto stand surety for their Duke, Schweinichen and the rest to the amount\nof--in modern money \u00a3100,000.\n\nWhen Hans was aged eighteen he was drunk for the first time in his life,\nso drunk that he lay like a dead man for two days and two nights, and\nhis life was in danger.\n\nPortia characterised the German as a drunkard, she liked him \"very\nvilely in the morning, when he is sober; and most vilely in the\nafternoon, when he is drunk. Set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the\ncontrary casket: for, if the devil be within, and that temptation\nwithout, I know he will choose it. I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I\nwill be married to a sponge.\"\n\nHow true this characterisation was of the old German noble,\nSchweinichen's memoirs show; it is a record of drunken bouts at small\nintervals. There was no escape, he who would live at court must drink\nand get drunken.\n\nAt the age of nineteen old Schweinichen made his son keep the accounts\nat home, and look after the mill; he had the charge of the fish-ponds,\nand attended to the thrashing of the corn, and the feeding of the horses\nand cattle.\n\nOnce Hans was invited to a wedding, and met at it four sisters from\nGlogau, two were widows and two unmarried. Their maiden name was Von\nSchaben. Hans, aged twenty, danced with the youngest a good deal, and\nbefore leaving invited the four sisters to pay his father and him a\nvisit. A friend of his called Eicholz galloped ahead to forewarn old\nSchweinichen. Some hours later up drove Hans in a waggon with the four\nsisters; but he did not dare to bring them in till he had seen his\nfather, so he went into the house, and was at once saluted with a burst\nof laughter, and the shout, \"Here comes the bridegroom,\" and Eicholz\nsang at the top of his voice an improvised verse:\n\n\n     \"Rosie von Schaben\n     Hans er will haben.\"\n\n\n\"Where are the ladies?\" asked the old knight.\n\n\"In the waggon outside,\" answered Hans.\n\n\"Send for the fiddlers, bring them in. We will eat, drink, dance and be\nmerry,\" said the old man.\n\nBut Hans was offended at being boisterously saluted as bridegroom, and\nhe now kept Rosie at a distance. Somewhat later, the Duke tried to get\nhim to marry a charming young heiress called Hese von Promnitz, and very\namusing is Hans' account of how he kept himself clear of engagement.\nWhen he first met her at court she was aged fourteen, and was\npassionately fond of sugar. Hans says he spent as much as \u00a33 in our\nmodern money on sweets for her, but he would make no proposal, because,\nas he concluded, she was too young to be able \"to cook a bowl of soup.\"\nTwo years passed, and then an old fellow called Geisler, \"looking more\nlike a Jew than a gentleman,\" who offered Hese a box of sweets every\nday, proposed for her. Hese would not answer till she knew the\nintentions of Hans, and she frankly asked him whether he meant to\npropose for her hand or not. \"My heart's best love, Hese,\" answered\nSchweinichen, \"at the right time, and when God wills I shall marry, but\nI do not think I can do that for three years. So follow your own\ndesires, take the old Jew, or wait, as you like.\"\n\nHese said she would wait any number of years for Hans. This made Hans\nthe colder. The Duke determined that the matter should be settled one\nway or other at once, so he sent a crown of gold roses to Hans, and said\nit was to be Hese's bridal wreath, if he desired that she should wear it\nfor him, he was to lay hold of it; Hans thereupon put his hands behind\nhis back. Then he went to his Schweinichen coat-of-arms and painted\nunder it the motto, \"I bide my time, when the old man dies, I'll get the\nprize.\" This Geisler read, and--says Hans, didn't like.\n\nHans was now installed as gentleman-in-waiting to the Duke, and was\nhenceforth always about his person. He got for his service free bed and\nboard, a gala coat that cost in our modern money about \u00a336, and an every\nday livery costing \u00a318. His father made him a small allowance, but pay\nin addition to liveries and keep he got none. The Duke's great amusement\nconsisted in mumming. For a whole year he rambled about every evening in\nmasquerade, dropping in on the burghers unexpectedly. Some were, we are\ntold, pleased to see and entertain him, others objected to these\nimpromptu visits. The special costume in which the Duke delighted to run\nabout the town making these visits was that of a Nun. Hans admits that\nthis was very distasteful to him, but he could not help himself, he was\nobliged to accommodate himself to the whims of his master. He made an\neffort to free himself from the service of the Duke, so as to go out of\nthe country to some other court--he felt intuitively that this\nassociation would be fatal to his best interests, but the Duke at once\ntook him by his better side, pleaded with him to remain and be faithful\nto him, his proper master and sovereign, and Hans with misgivings at\nheart consented.\n\nThere was at Court an old lady, Frau von Kittlitz, who acted as\nstewardess, and exercised great influence over the Duke, whom she had\nknown from a boy. The Duchess resented her managing ways, and\ninterference, and was jealous of her influence. One day in 1575 she\nrefused to come down from her room and dine with the Duke unless the old\nKittlitz were sent to sit at the table below the dais. This led to\nwords and hot blood on both sides. The Duchess used a gross expression\nin reference to the stewardess, and the Duke who had already some wine\nunder his belt, struck the Duchess in the face, saying, \"I'll teach you\nnot to call people names they do not deserve.\" Hans, who was present,\nthrew himself between the angry couple; the Duke stormed and struck\nabout. Hans entreated the Duchess to retire, and then he stood in her\ndoor and prevented the Duke following, though he shouted, \"She is my\nwife, I can serve her as I like. Who are you to poke yourself in between\nmarried folk?\"\n\nAs soon as the Duchess had locked herself in, Hans escaped and fled; but\nan hour after the Duke sent for him, and stormed at him again for his\nmeddlesomeness. Hans entreated the Duke to be quiet and get reconciled\nto the Duchess, but he would not hear of it, and dismissed Schweinichen.\nA quarter of an hour later another messenger came from his master, and\nHans returned to him, to find him in a better mood. \"Hans,\" said his\nHighness, \"try if you can't get my wife to come round and come down to\ntable--all fun is at an end with this.\"\n\nHans went up and was admitted. The Duchess, in a towering rage, had\nalready written a letter to her brother the Margrave of Anspach, telling\nhim how her husband had struck her in the face and given her a black\neye, and she had already dispatched a messenger with the letter. After\nmuch arguing, Hans wrung from her her consent to come down, on two\nconditions, one that the Duke should visit her at once and beg her\npardon, the other that the old Kittlitz should sit at the table with\nthe pages. The Duke was now in a yielding mood and ate his leek humbly.\nThe Duchess consented to tell the Court that she had got her black eye\nfrom striking her face against a lamp, and the Duke ordered ten\ntrumpeters and a kettledrum to make all the noise they could to\ncelebrate the reconciliation.\n\nThe Duchess in an aside to Schweinichen admitted that she had been rash\nand unjust, and regretted having sent off that letter. An unlucky\nletter--says our author--for it cost the duchy untold gold and years of\ntrouble.\n\nThe Duke had made several visits to Poland, chasing that Jack o'\nlantern--the Polish crown, and it had cost him so much money that he had\nquarrelled with his Estates, bullied and oppressed his subjects to\nextort money, and at last the Estates appealed to the Emperor against\nhim, as they had against his father; and the Emperor summoned him to\nPrague. The Duke had great difficulty in scraping together money enough\nto convey him so far; and on reaching Prague, he begged permission of\nthe Kaiser to be allowed to visit the Electors and the Free Cities, and\nsee whether he could not obtain from them some relief from his\nembarrassments, and money wherewith to pacify the angry Estates of the\nSilesian Duchy. The consent required was given, and then the Duke with\nhis faithful Schweinichen, and several other retainers, started on a\ngrand begging and borrowing round of the Empire. Hans was constituted\ntreasurer, and he had in his purse about \u00a3400. The Duke took with him\nfive squires, two pages, three serving men, a cook, and several kitchen\nboys, one carriage drawn by six horses, another by four. And not only\nwas this train to make the round of the Empire, but also to visit\nItaly--and all on \u00a3400.\n\nThe first visit was paid, three days' journey from Prague, at Theusing\nto a half-sister of the Duchess. She received him coolly, and lectured\nhim on his conduct to his wife. When the Duke asked her to lend him\nmoney, she answered that she would pay his expenses home, if he chose to\ngo back to Liegnitz, but not one penny otherwise should he have. Not\ncontent with this refusal, the Duke went on to Nurnberg, where he sent\nHans to the town council to invite them to lend him money; he asked for\n4,000 florins. The council declined the honour. The two daughters of the\nDuke were in the charge of the Margrave of Anspach, their mother's\nbrother. The Duke sent Hans to Anspach to urge the Margrave to send the\nlittle girls to him, or invite him to visit Anspach to see them. He was\nshy of visiting his brother-in-law uninvited, because of the box in the\near and the black eye. He confided to Hans that if he got his children\nat Nurnberg, he would not return them to their uncle, without a loan or\na honorarium.\n\nThis shabby transaction was not to Schweinichen's taste, but he was\nobliged to undertake it. It proved unsuccessful, the Margrave refused to\ngive up the children till the Duke returned to his wife and duchy and\nset a better example.\n\nWhilst Hans was away, the Duke won a large sum of money at play, enough\nto pay his own bill, but instead of doing this with it, he had it melted\nup and made into silver cups. When he came to leave Nurnberg he was\nunable to pay his inn bill, and obliged to leave in pawn with the\ntaverner a valuable jewel. Then he and his suite went to Augsburg and\nsettled into an inn till the town council could agree to lend him money.\n\nOne day, whilst there, Hans was invited to a wedding. The Duke wanted to\ngo also, but, as he was not invited, he went as Hans' servant, but got\nso drunk that Hans was obliged to carry him home to the tavern, after\nwhich he returned to the wedding. In the evening, when dancing began,\nthe Duke reappeared, he had slept off his drunkenness and was fresh for\nmore entertainment. He was now recognized, and according to etiquette,\ntwo town councillors, in robes of office and gold chains, danced\nsolemnly before his Highness. Hans tells us that it was customary for\nall dances to be led by two persons habited in scarlet with white\nsleeves, and these called the dance and set the figures, no one might\nexecute any figure or do anything which had not been done by the\nleaders. Now as Hans vows he never saw so many pretty girls anywhere as\non that evening, he tipped the leaders with half a thaler to kiss each\nother, whereupon the two solemn dancing councillors had also to kiss\neach other, and the Duke, nothing loth, his partner, and Hans, with\nzest, his. That evening he gave plenty of kisses, and what with the many\nlights, and the music and the dancing and the pretty girls he thought\nhimself in Paradise. Shortly after this, the Duke was invited to dine\nwith Fugger, the merchant prince, who showed him his treasury, gold to\nthe worth of a million, and one tower lined within from top half way\ndown with nothing but silver thalers. The Duke's mouth watered, and he\ngraciously invited Fugger to lend him \u00a35,000; this the merchant\ndeclined, but made him a present of 200 crowns and a good horse. The\ntown council consented to lend the Duke \u00a31,200 on his I.O.U. for a year;\nand then to pay his host he melted up his silver mugs again, pawned his\nplate and gave him a promissory note for two months.\n\nFrom Augsburg the Duke went about the abbeys, trying to squeeze loans\nout of the abbots, but found that they had always the excuse ready, that\nthey would not lend to Lutheran princes. Then he stuck on in the abbeys,\neating up all their provisions and rioting in their guest-apartments,\ntill the abbots were fain to make him a present to be rid of him.\n\nAll at once an opening offered for the Duke to gain both renown and\nmoney. Henry I. of Cond\u00e9 was at the court of the Elector Palatine at\nHeidelsberg, soliciting assistance in behalf of the Huguenots against\nthe King of France. The Elector agreed to send a force under his son\nJohn Casimir, and the Duke of Liegnitz offered his services, which were\nreadily accepted. He was to lead the rearguard, and to receive a liberal\npay for his services. Whilst he was collecting this force and getting\nunderway, John Casimir and the Prince of Cond\u00e9 marched through Lorraine\nto Metz, and Hans went with John Casimir. He trusted he was now on his\nway to fortune. But it was not so to be. The Duke, his master, insisted\nthat he should return to him, and Hans, on doing so, found him rioting\nand gambling away, at Frankfort and Nassau, the money paid him in\nadvance for his useless services. Almost the first duty imposed on Hans,\non his return, was to negociate a loan for \u00a35,000 with the magistrates\nof Frankfort, which was peremptorily refused; whereupon the Duke went to\nCologne and stayed there seven months, endeavouring to cajole the town\ncouncil there into advancing him money.\n\nBut we can not follow any further the miserable story of the degradation\nof the Silesian Duke, till at the beginning of the new year, 1577, the\nDuke ran away from the town of Emmerich, leaving his servants to pay his\ndebts as best they could. Hans sold the horses and whatever was left,\nand then, not sorry to be quit of such a master, returned on foot to his\nSilesian home.\n\nIt is, perhaps, worth while quoting Duke Henry's letter, which Hans\nfound in the morning announcing his master's evasion.\n\n\n     \"Dear Hans,--Here is a chain, do what you can with it. Weigh it and\n     sell it, also the horses for ready money; I will not pillow my head\n     in feathers till, by God's help, I have got some money, to enable\n     me to clear out of this vile land, and away from these people. Good\n     morning, best-loved Hans.\n\n     \"With mine own hand, HENRY, DUKE.\"\n\n\nAs he neared home, sad news reached Hans. The Ducal creditors had come\ndown on his father, who had made himself responsible, and had seized the\nfamily estates; whereat the old man's heart broke, and he had died in\nJanuary. When Hans heard this, he sat for two hours on a stone beside\nthe road, utterly unmanned, before he could recover himself sufficiently\nto pursue his journey.\n\nIn the meantime an Imperial commission had sat on the Duke, deposed\nhim, and appointed his brother Frederick duke in his room.\nSchweinichen's fidelity to Duke Henry ensured his disfavour with Duke\nFrederick, and he was not summoned to court, but was left quietly at\nMertsch\u00fctz to do his best along with his brother to bring the family\naffairs into some sort of order. His old master did not, however, allow\nhim much rest. By the Imperial decision, he was to be provided with a\ndaily allowance of money, food and wine. This drew Duke Henry home, and\nno sooner was he back in Silesia than he insisted on Hans returning to\nhis service, and for some years more he led the faithful soul a troubled\nlife, and involved him in miserable pecuniary perplexities. This was the\nmore trying to Hans as he had now fallen in love with Margaret von\nSchellendorff, whom he married eventually. The tenderness and goodness\nof Schweinichen's heart break out whenever he speaks of his dear\nMargaretta, and of the children which came and were taken from him. His\nsorrows as he lingered over the sick-beds of his little ones, and the\ncloseness with which he was drawn by domestic bereavements and pecuniary\ndistresses, to his Margaretta, come out clearly in his narrative. The\nwhole story is far too long to tell in its entirety. Hans was a\nvoluminous diarist. His memoirs cease at the year 1602, when he was\nsuffering from gout, but he lived on some years longer.\n\nIn the church of S. John at Liegnitz was at one time his monument, with\nlife-sized figure of Hans von Schweinichen, and above it his banner and\nan inscription stating that he died on the 23rd Aug., 1616. Alas! the\nhand of the destroyer has been there. The church and monument are\ndestroyed, and we can no longer see what manner of face Hans wore; but\nof the inner man, of a good, faithful, God fearing, and loving soul,\nstrong and true, he has himself left us the most accurate portrait in\nhis precious memoirs.\n\n\n\n\nThe Locksmith Gamain.\n\n\nAmong the many episodes of the French Revolution there is one which\ndeserves to be somewhat closely examined, because of the gravity of the\naccusation which it involves against the King and Queen, and because a\ngood deal of controversy has raged round it. The episode is that of the\nlocksmith Gamain, whom the King and Queen are charged with having\nattempted to poison.\n\nThat the accusation was believed during \"the Terror\" goes without\nsaying; the heated heads and angry hearts at that time were in no\ncondition to sift evidence with impartiality. Afterwards, the charge was\nregarded as preposterous, till the late M. Paul Lacroix--better known as\nle Bibliophile Jacob--a student of history, very careful and diligent as\na collector, gave it a new spell of life in 1836, when he reformulated\nthe accusation in a _feuilleton_ of the _Si\u00e8cle_. Not content to let it\nsleep or die in the ephemeral pages of a newspaper, he republished the\nwhole story in 1838, in his \"Dissertations sur quelques points curieux\nde l'histoire de France.\" This he again reproduced in his \"Curiosit\u00e9s de\nl'histoire de France,\" in 1858. M. Louis Blanc, convinced that the case\nwas made out, has reasserted the charge in his work on the French\nRevolution, and it has since been accepted by popular writers--as\nD\u00e9cembre-Alonnier--who seek to justify the execution of the King and\nQueen, and to glorify the Revolution.\n\nM. Thiers rejected the accusation; M. Eckard pointed out the\nimprobabilities in the story in the \"Biographie Universelle,\" and M.\nMortimer-Ternaux has also shown its falsity in his \"Histoire de la\nTerreur;\" and finally, M. Le Roy, librarian of Versailles, in 1867,\ndevoted his special attention to it, and completely disproved the\npoisoning of Gamain. But in spite of disproval the slanderous accusation\ndoes not die, and no doubt is still largely believed in Paris.\n\nSo tenacious of life is a lie--like the bacteria that can be steeped in\nsulphuric acid without destroying their vitality--that the story has\nbeen again recently raked up, and given to the public, from Lacroix, in\na number of the Cornhill Magazine (December, 1887); the writer of course\nknew only Lacroix' myth, and had never seen how it had been disproved.\nIt is well now to review the whole story.\n\nFran\u00e7ois Gamain was born at Versailles on August 29, 1751. He belonged\nto an hereditary locksmith family. His father Nicolas had been in the\nsame trade, and had charge of the locks in the royal palaces in\nVersailles and elsewhere.\n\nThe love of Louis XVI. for mechanical works is well known. He had a\nlittle workshop at Versailles, where he amused himself making locks,\nassisted by Fran\u00e7ois Gamain, to whom he was much attached, and with whom\nhe spent many hours in projecting and executing mechanical contrivances.\nThe story is told of the Intendant Thierry, that when one day the King\nshowed him a lock he had made, he replied, \"Sire, when kings occupy\nthemselves with the works of the common people, the common people will\nassume the functions of kings,\" but the _mot_ was probably made after\nthe fact.\n\nAfter the terrible days of the 5th and 6th of October, 1789, the King\nwas brought to Paris. Gamain remained at Versailles, which was his home,\nand retained the King's full confidence.\n\nWhen, later, the King was surrounded by enemies, and he felt the\nnecessity for having some secret place where he could conceal papers of\nimportance which might yet fall into the hands of the rabble if the\npalace was again invaded, as it had been at Versailles, he sent for\nGamain to make for him an iron chest in a place of concealment, that\ncould only be opened by one knowing the secret of the lock.\n\nUnfortunately, the man was not as trustworthy as Louis XVI. supposed.\nSurrounded by those who had adopted the principles of the Revolution,\nand being a man without strong mind, he followed the current, and in\n1792 he was nominated member of the Council General of the Commune of\nVersailles, and on September 24 he was one of the commissioners\nappointed \"to cause to disappear all such paintings, sculptures, and\ninscriptions from the monuments of the Commune as might serve to recall\nroyalty and despotism.\"\n\nThe records of the debates of the Communal Council show that Gamain\nattended regularly and took part in the discussions, which were often\ntumultuous.\n\nThe Queen heard of Gamain's Jacobinism, and warned the King, who,\nhowever, could not believe that Gamain would betray him. Marie\nAntoinette insisted on the most important papers being removed from the\niron chest, and they were confided to Mme. de Campan.\n\nWhen the trial of the King was begun, on November 20, Gamain went to\nRoland, Minister of the Interior, and told him the secret of the iron\nchest. Roland, alarmed at the consequences of such a discovery, hastened\nto consult his wife, who was in reality more minister than himself.\n\nFrom August 10, a commission had been appointed to collect all the\npapers found in the Tuileries; this commission, therefore, ought to be\nmade acquainted with the discovery; but here lay the danger. Mme.\nRoland, as an instrument of the Girondins, feared that among the papers\nin the chest might be discovered some which would show in what close\nrelations the Girondins stood to the Court. She decided that her husband\nshould go to the Tuileries, accompanied by Gamain, an architect, and a\nservant. The chest was opened by the locksmith, Roland removed all the\npapers, tied them up in a napkin, and took them home. They were taken\nthe same day to the Convention; and the commission charged the minister\nwith having abstracted such papers as would have been inconvenient to\nhim to deliver up.\n\nWhen Roland surrendered the papers he declared, without naming Gamain,\nthat they had been discovered in a hole in the wall closed by an iron\ndoor, behind a wainscot panel, in so secret a place \"that they could not\nhave been found had not the secret been disclosed by the workman who\nhad himself made the place of concealment.\"\n\nOn December 24 following, Gamain was summoned to Paris by the Convention\nto give his evidence to prove that a key discovered in the desk of\nThierry de Ville-d'Avray fitted the iron chest.\n\nAfter the execution of the King, on January 21, 1793, the Convention\nsent deputies into all the departments \"to stimulate the authorities to\nact with the energy requisite under the circumstances.\" Crassous was\nsent into the department of Seine-et-Oise; and not finding the\nmunicipality of Versailles, of which Gamain was a member, \"up to the\nrequisite pitch,\" he discharged them from office; and by a law of\nSeptember 17, all such discharged functionaries were declared to be\n\"suspected persons,\" who were liable to be brought before the\nrevolutionary tribunal on that charge alone.\n\nThus, in spite of all the proofs he had given of his fidelity to the\nprinciples of the Revolution, Gamain was at any moment liable to arrest,\nand to being brought before that terrible tribunal from which the only\nexit was to the guillotine. Moreover, Gamain had lost his place and\nemoluments as Court locksmith; he had fallen into great poverty, was\nwithout work, and without health.\n\nOn April 27, 1794, he presented a petition to the Convention which was\nsupported by Musset, the deputy and constitutional cur\u00e9. \"It was not\nenough,\" said Musset from the tribune, \"that the last of our tyrants\nshould have delivered over thousands of citizens to be slain by the\nsword of the enemy. You will see by the petition I am about to read\nthat he was familiarised with the most refined cruelty, and that he\nhimself administered poison to the father of a family, in the hopes\nthereby of destroying evidence of his perfidy. You will see that his\nferocious mind had adopted the maxim that to a king everything is\npermissible.\"\n\nAfter this preamble Musset read the petition of Gamain, which is as\nfollows: \"Fran\u00e7ois Gamain, locksmith to the cabinets and to the\nlaboratory of the late King, and for three years member of the Council\nGeneral of the Commune of Versailles, declares that at the beginning of\nMay 1792 he was ordered to go to Paris. On reaching it, Capet required\nhim to make a cupboard in the thickness of one of the walls of his room,\nand to fasten it with an iron door; and he further states that he was\nthus engaged up to the 22nd of the said month, and that he worked in the\nKing's presence. When the chest was completed, Capet himself offered\ncitizen Gamain a large tumbler of wine, and asked him to drink it, as\nhe, the said Gamain, was very hot.\n\n\"_A few hours later_ he was attacked by a violent colic, which did not\nabate till he had taken two spoonfuls of elixir, which made him vomit\nall he had eaten and drunk that day. This was the prelude to a terrible\nillness, which lasted fourteen months, during which he lost the use of\nhis limbs, and which has left him at present without hope of recovering\nhis full health, and of working so as to provide for the necessities of\nhis family.\"\n\nAfter reading the petition Musset added: \"I hold in my hands the\ncertificate of the doctors, that testifies to the bad state of the\nhealth of the citizen petitioner.\n\n\"Citizens! If wickedness is common to kings, generosity is the\nprerogative of the free people. I demand that this petition be referred\nto the Committee of Public Assistance to be promptly dealt with. I\ndemand that after the request all the papers relating to it be deposed\nin the national archives, as a monument of the atrocity of tyrants, and\nbe inserted in the bulletin, that all those who have supposed that Capet\ndid evil only at the instigation of others may know that crime was\nrooted in his very heart.\" This proposition was decreed. On May 17,\n1794, the representative Peyssard mounted the tribune, and read the\nreport of the Committee, which we must condense.\n\n\"Citizens! At the tribunal of liberty the crimes of the oppressors of\nthe human race stand to be judged. To paint a king in all his\nhideousness I need name only Louis XVI. This name sums in itself all\ncrimes; it recalls a prodigy of iniquity and of perfidy. Hardly escaped\nfrom infancy, the germs of the ferocious perversity which characterise a\ndespot appeared in him. His earliest sports were with blood, and his\nbrutality grew with his years, and he delighted in wreaking his ferocity\non all the animals he met. He was known to be cruel, treacherous, and\nmurderous. The object of this report is to exhibit him to France\ncold-bloodedly offering a cup of poison to the unhappy artist whom he\nhad just employed to construct a cupboard in which to conceal the plots\nof tyranny. It was no stranger he marked as his victim, but a workman\nwhom he had employed for five-and-twenty years, and the father of a\nfamily, his own instructor in the locksmith's art. Monsters who thus\ntreat their chosen servants, how will they deal with the rest of men?\"\n\nThe National Convention thereupon ordered that \"Fran\u00e7ois Gamain,\npoisoned by Louis Capet on May 22, 1792, should enjoy an annual pension\nof the sum of 1,200 livres, dating from the day on which he was\npoisoned.\"\n\nIt will be noticed by the most careless reader that the evidence is\n_nil_. Gamain does not feel the colic till some hours after he has drunk\nthe wine; he had eaten or drunk other things besides during the day; and\nfinally the testimony of the doctors is, not that he was poisoned, but\nthat, at the time of his presenting the petition, he was in a bad state\nof health. Accordingly, all reasonable historians, unblinded by party\npassion, have scouted the idea of an attempt on Gamain's life by the\nKing. Thus the matter would have remained had not M. Paul Lacroix taken\nit up and propped the old slander on new legs. We will take his account,\nwhich he pretends to have received from several persons to whom Gamain\nrelated it repeatedly. This is his _mise en sc\u00e8ne_.\n\n\"The old inhabitants of Versailles will remember with pity the man whom\nthey often encountered alone, bowed on his stick like one bent with\nyears. Gamain was aged only fifty-eight when he died, but he bore all\nthe marks of decrepitude.\"\n\nHere is a blunder, to begin with; he died, as the Versailles registers\ntestify, on May 8, 1795, and was accordingly only forty-four years\nold,--that is, he died _one_ year after the grant of the annuity. M.\nParrott, in his article on Gamain in the \"Dictionnaire de la R\u00e9volution\nFran\u00e7aise,\" says that he died in 1799, five years after having received\nhis pension; but the Versailles registers are explicit.\n\nM. Lacroix goes on: \"His hair had fallen off, and the little that\nremained had turned white over a brow furrowed deeply; the loss of his\nteeth made his cheeks hollow; his dull eyes only glared with sombre fire\nwhen the name of Louis XVI was pronounced. Sometimes even tears then\nfilled them. Gamain lived very quietly with his family on his humble\npension, which, notwithstanding the many changes of government, was\nalways accorded him. It was not suppressed, lest the reason of its being\ngranted should again be raked up before the public.\"\n\nAs we have seen, Gamain died under the Government which granted the\npension. M. Lacroix goes on to say \"that the old locksmith bore to his\ndying day an implacable hatred of Louis XVI., whom he accused of having\nbeen guilty of an abominable act of treachery.\"\n\n\"This act of treachery was the fixed and sole idea in Gamain's head, he\nrecurred to it incessantly, and poured forth a flood of bitter and\nsavage recriminations against the King. It was Gamain who disclosed the\nsecret of the iron chest in the Tuileries, and the papers it contained,\nwhich furnished the chief accusation against Louis XVI.; it was he,\ntherefore, who had, so to speak, prepared the guillotine for the royal\nhead; it was he, finally, who provoked the decree of the Convention\nwhich blackened the memory of the King as that of a vulgar murderer. But\nthis did not suffice the hate of Gamain, who went about everywhere\npursuing the dead beyond the tomb, with his charge of having attempted\nmurder as payment of life-long and devoted service. Gamain ordinarily\npassed his evenings in a cafe at Versailles, the name of which I have\nbeen told, but which I do not divulge lest I should make a mistake. He\nwas generally in the society of two old notaries, who are still alive\n(in 1836), and of the doctor Lameyran, who attended him when he was\npoisoned. These three persons were prepared to attest all the\nparticulars of the poisoning which had been proved at the _proc\u00e8s\nverbal_. Gamain, indeed, lacked witnesses to establish the incidents of\nthe 22nd May, 1792, at the Tuileries; but his air of veracity and\nexpression of pain, his accent of conviction, his face full of\nsuffering, his burning eyes, his pathetic pantomime, were the guarantees\nof good faith.\"\n\nThese three men, the notaries and the doctor, which latter M. Lacroix\nhints was living when he wrote, were his authorities for what follows.\nThe notaries he does not name, nor the caf\u00e9 where they met. His account\npublished in the _Si\u00e8cle_ at once attracted attention, and M. Lacroix\nwas challenged to produce his witnesses. As for M. Lameyran, the doctor,\nhe had died in 1811; consequently his testimony was not to be had in\n1836. The other doctor who had attended Gamain was M. Voisin, who died\nin 1823, but M. Le Roy asserts positively that in 1813 M. Voisin told\nhim, \"Never was Gamain poisoned. Lameyran and I had long attended him\nfor chronic malady of the stomach. This is all we testified to in our\ncertificate, when he applied for a pension. In our certificate we stated\nthat he was in weak health--not a word was in it about poisoning, which\nexisted only in his fancy.\"\n\nThese certificates are no longer in existence. They were not preserved\nin the archives of the Convention. Even this fact is taken as evidence\nin favour of the attempt. M. Emile Bonnet, in an article on Gamain in\nthe \"Interm\u00e9diaire des Chercheurs,\" declares that they have been\nsubstracted since the Restoration of Charles;[8] but there is no trace\nin the archives of them ever having been there. Moreover, we have M. Le\nRoy's word that M. Voisin assured him he had not testified to poisoning,\nand, what is more important, we have Musset's declaration before the\nConvention that the certificate of the doctors \"asserted the ill-health\nof the claimant.\" If there had been a word about poison in it, he would\nassuredly have said so.\n\nM. Lacroix was asked to name his authorities--the two advocates who, as\nM. Lameyran was dead, were alive and would testify to the fact that they\nhad heard the story from the lips of Gamain. He remained silent. He\nwould not even name the caf\u00e9 where they met, and which might lead to the\nidentification. M. Eckard, who wrote the notice on Gamain in the\n\"Biographie Universelle,\" consulted the family of the locksmith on the\ncase, and was assured by them that the bad health of Gamain was due to\nno other cause than disappointment at the loss of his fortune, the\nprivations he underwent, and, above all, his terror for his life after\nhis dismissal from the Communal Council.\n\nWe will now continue M. Lacroix's account, which he proceeds, not a\nlittle disingenuously, to put into the mouth of Gamain himself, so that\nthe accusation may not be charged on the author.\n\n\"On May 21, 1792,\" says Gamain, according to the \"Bibliophile Jacob,\"\n\"whilst I was working in my shop, a horseman drew up at my door and\ncalled me out. His disguise as a carter did not prevent me from\nrecognising Durey, the King's forge assistant. I refused. I\ncongratulated myself that evening at having done so, as the rumour\nspread in Versailles that the Tuileries had been attacked by the mob,\nbut this did not really take place till a month later. Next morning\nDurey returned and showed me a note in the King's own hand, entreating\nme to lend my assistance in a difficult job past his unaided powers. My\npride was flattered. I embraced my wife and children, without telling\nthem whither I was going, but I promised to return that night. It was\nnot without anxiety that they saw me depart with a stranger for Paris.\"\n\nWe need merely point out that Durey was no stranger to the family: he\nhad been for years associated daily with Gamain.\n\n\"Durey conducted me to the Tuileries, where the King was guarded as in a\nprison. We went at once to the royal workshop, where Durey left me,\nwhilst he went to announce my arrival. Whilst I was alone, I observed an\niron door, recently forged, a mortise lock, well executed, and a little\niron box with a secret spring which I did not at once discover. Then in\ncame Durey with the King. 'The times are bad,' said Louis XVI., 'and I\ndo not know how matters will end.' Then he showed me the works I had\nnoticed, and said, 'What do you say to my skill? It took me ten days to\nexecute these things. I am your apprentice, Gamain.' I protested my\nentire devotion. Then the King assured me that he always had confidence\nin me, and that he did not scruple to trust the fate of himself and his\nfamily in my hands. Thereupon he conducted me into the dark passage that\nled from his room to the chamber of the Dauphin. Durey lit a taper, and\nremoved a panel in the passage, behind which I perceived a round hole,\nabout two feet in diameter, bored in the wall. The King told me he\nintended to secrete his money in it, and that Durey, who had helped to\nmake it, threw the dust and chips into the river during the night. Then\nthe King told me that he was unable to fit the iron door to the hole\nunassisted. I went to work immediately. I went over all the parts of the\nlock, and got them into working order; then I fashioned a key to the\nlock, then made hinges and fastened them into the wall as firmly as I\ncould, without letting the hammering be heard. The King helped as well\nas he was able, entreating me every moment to strike with less noise,\nand to be quicker over my work. The key was put in the little iron\ncasket, and this casket was concealed under a slab of pavement in the\ncorridor.\"\n\nIt will be seen that this story does not agree with the account in the\npetition made by Gamain to the Convention. In that he said he was\nsummoned to Paris at the beginning of the month of May, and that \"Capet\nordered him to make a cupboard in the thickness of the wall of his\napartment, and to close it with an iron door, the whole of which was not\naccomplished till the 22nd of the same month.\" He was three weeks over\nthe job, not a few hours. \"I had been working,\" continues Gamain, or M.\nLacroix for him, \"for eight consecutive hours. The sweat poured from my\nbrow; I was impatient to repose, and faint with hunger, as I had eaten\nnothing since I got up.\"\n\nBut, according to his account before the Convention, the elixir made him\nthrow up \"all he had eaten and drunk during the day.\"\n\n\"I seated myself a moment in the King's chamber, and he asked me to\ncount for him two thousand double louis and tie them up in four leather\nbags. Whilst so doing I observed that Durey was carrying some bundles of\npapers which I conjectured were destined for the secret closet; and,\nindeed, the money-counting was designed to distract my attention from\nwhat Durey was about.\"\n\nWhat a clumsy story! Why were not the papers hidden after Gamain was\ngone? Was it necessary that this should be done in his presence, and he\nset to count money, so as not to observe what was going on?\n\n\"As I was about to leave, the Queen suddenly entered by a masked door at\nthe foot of the King's bed, holding in her hands a plate, in which was a\ncake (brioche) and a glass of wine. She came up to me, and I saluted her\nwith surprise, because the King had assured me that she knew nothing\nabout the fabrication of the chest. 'My dear Gamain,' said she in a\ncaressing tone, 'how hot you are! Drink this tumbler of wine and eat\nthis cake, and they will sustain you on your journey home.' I thanked\nher, confounded by this consideration for a poor workman, and I emptied\nthe tumbler to her health. I put the cake in my pocket, intending to\ntake it home to my children.\"\n\nHere again is a discrepancy. In his petition Gamain says that the King\ngave him a glass of wine, and makes no mention of the Queen.\n\nOn leaving the Tuileries, Gamain set out on foot for Versailles, but was\nattacked by a violent colic in the Champs Elys\u00e9es. His agonies\nincreased; he was no longer able to walk; he fell, and rolled on the\nground, uttering cries and moans. A carriage that was passing stopped,\nand an English gentleman got out--wonderful to relate!--extraordinary\ncoincidence!--a physician, and an acquaintance.\n\n\"The Englishman took me to his carriage, and ordered the coachman to\ndrive at full gallop to an apothecary's shop. The conveyance halted at\nlast before one in the Rue de Bac; the Englishman left me alone, whilst\nhe prepared an elixir which might counteract the withering power of the\npoison. When I had swallowed this draught I ejected the venomous\nsubstances. An hour later nothing could have saved me. I recovered in\npart my sight and hearing; the cold that circulated in my veins was\ndissipated by degrees, and the Englishman judged that I might be safely\nremoved to Versailles, which we reached at two o'clock in the morning. A\nphysician, M. de Lameyran, and a surgeon, M. Voisin, were called in;\nthey recognised the unequivocal tokens of poison.\n\n\"After three days of fever, delirium, and inconceivable suffering, I\ntriumphed over the poison, but suffered ever after from a paralysis\nalmost complete, and a general inflammation of the digestive organs.\n\n\"A few days after this catastrophe the servant maid, whilst cleaning my\ncoat, which I had worn on the occasion of my accident, found my\nhandkerchief, stained black, and the cake. She took a bite of the\nlatter, and threw the rest into the yard, where a dog ate it and died.\nThe girl, who had consumed only a morsel of the cake, fell dangerously\nill. The dog was opened by M. Voisin, and a chemical analysis disclosed\nthe presence of poison, both on my kerchief stained by my vomit, and in\nthe cake. The cake alone contained enough corrosive sublimate to kill\nten persons.\"\n\nSo--the poison was found. But how is it that in Gamain's petition none\nof this occurs? According to that document, Gamain was offered a goblet\nof wine by the King himself. \"A few hours later he was attacked by a\nviolent colic. This was the prelude to a terrible illness.\" Only a vague\nhint as to poison, no specific statement that he had been poisoned, and\nthat the kind of poison had been determined.\n\nNow, corrosive sublimate, when put in red wine, forms a violet\nprecipitate, and alters the taste of the wine, giving it a\ncharacteristic metallic, harsh flavour, so disagreeable that it insures\nits immediate rejection. Gamain tasted nothing. Again, the action of\ncorrosive sublimate is immediate or very nearly so; but Gamain was not\naffected till several hours after having drunk the wine.\n\nAccording to the petition, Gamain asserted that he was paralysed in all\nhis limbs for fourteen months, from May 22, 1792; but the Communal\nregisters of Versailles show that he attended a session of the Council\nand took part in the discussion on June 4 following, that is, less than\na fortnight after; that he was present at the sessions of June 8, 17,\n20, and on August 22, and that he was sufficiently hearty and active to\nbe elected on the commission which was to obliterate the insignia of\nmonarchy on September 24 following, which certainly would not have been\nthe case had he been a sick man paralysed in all his members.\n\nWhy, we may further inquire, did not Louis the XVI. or Queen Marie\nAntoinette attempt to poison Durey also, if they desired to make away\nwith all those who knew the secret of the iron locker?\n\nNow, Durey was alive in 1800, and Eckard, who wrote the article on\nGamain in the \"Biographie Universelle,\" knew him and saw him at that\ndate, and Durey told him that Gamain's story was a lie; the iron safe\nwas made, not in 1792, but in May, 1791; and this is probable, as it\nwould have been easier for the King to have the locker made before his\nescape to Varennes, than in 1792, when he was under the closest\nsupervision.\n\nAccording to the version attributed to Gamain by M. Paul Lacroix, Gamain\nwas paralysed for five months only. Why this change? Because either M.\nLacroix or the locksmith had discovered that it was an anachronism for\nhim to appear in November before Roland, and assist him in opening the\ncase which he had made in May--five months before, and afterwards to\ndeclare that he was paralysed in all his members from May till the year\nfollowing. We think this correction is due to the Bibliophile. But he\nwas not acquainted with the Versailles archives proving him to have been\nat a session a few days after the pretended poisoning.\n\nThere is not much difficulty in discovering Gamain's motive for\nformulating the accusation against the King. He betrayed his king, who\ntrusted him, and then, to excuse his meanness, invented an odious\ncalumny against him.\n\nBut what was M. Lacroix's object in revivifying the base charge? We are\nnot sure that he comes cleaner out of the slough than the despicable\nlocksmith. He gave the story a new spell of life; he based his \"facts\"\non testimonies, who, he said, were ready at any moment to vouch for the\ntruth. When challenged to produce them he would not do so. His \"facts\"\nwere proved again and again to be fables, and yet he dared to republish\nhis slanderous story again and again, without a word of apology,\nexplanation, or retractation. M. Lacroix died only a year or two ago,\nand it may seem ungenerous to attack a dead man, but one is forced to do\nthis in defence of the honour of a dead Queen whom he grossly\ncalumniated. The calumny was ingeniously put. M. Lacroix set it in the\nmouth of Gamain, thinking thereby to free himself from responsibility,\nbut the responsibility sticks when he refuses to withdraw what has been\ndemonstrated to be false.\n\nThere is something offensive to the last degree in the pose of M.\nLacroix as he opens his charge. \"For some years I have kept by me, with\na sort of terror, the materials for an historic revelation, without\nventuring to use them, and yet the fact, now almost unknown, on which I\npurpose casting a sinister light, is one that has been the object of my\nmost active preoccupations. For long I condemned myself to silence and\nto fresh research, hitherto fruitless, hoping that the truth would come\nto light.... Well! now, at the moment of lifting the veil which covers a\nhalf-effaced page of history, with the documents I have consulted and\nthe evidence I have gleaned lying before me, surrounded by a crowd of\nwitnesses, one sustaining the testimony of the other, relying on my\nconscience and on my sentiments as a man of honour--still I hesitate to\nopen my mouth and call up the remembrance of an event monstrous in\nitself, that has not found an echo even in the writings of the blindest\npartisans of a hideous epoch. Yes, I feel a certain repugnance in\nseeming to associate in thought, though not in act, with the enemies of\nLouis XVI. I have just re-read the sublime death of this unhappy\npolitical martyr; I have felt my eyes moisten with tears at the\ncontemplation of the picture of the death inflicted by an inexorable\nstate necessity, and I felt I must break my pen lest I should mix my ink\nwith the yet warm blood of the innocent victim. Let my hand wither\nrather than rob Louis XVI. of the mantle of probity and goodness, which\nthe outrages of '93 succeeded neither in staining nor in rending to\nrags.\" And so on--M. Lacroix is only acting under a high sense of the\nsacred duty of seeking the truth, \"of forcing the disclosure of facts,\nbefore it be too late,\" which may establish the innocence of Louis XVI.\nNow, be it noted that M. Lacroix is the first to accuse the Queen of\nattempting the murder; his assault is on her as much as, more than, on\nthe poor King--in the sacred interests of historic truth!\n\nWhat are his evidences, his crowd of witnesses, his documents that he\nhas collected? What proof is there of his active preoccupations and\nfresh researches? He produced nothing that can be called proof, and\nrefused the names of his witnesses when asked for them. We can quite\nunderstand that the Bibliophile Jacob may have heard some gossiping\nstory such as he narrates, and may have believed it when he wrote the\nstory; but then, where are the high sense of honour, the tender\nconscience, the enthusiasm for truth, when his story is proved to be a\ntissue of improbabilities and impossibilities, that permit him to\nrepublish, and again republish at intervals of years, this cruel and\ncalumnious fabrication?\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[8] Le Bibliophile Jacob says the same: \"Les--pi\u00e8ces--d\u00e9tourn\u00e9es\nmaladroitement par la Restauration.\"\n\n\n\n\nAbram the Usurer.[9]\n\n\nIn the reign of Heraclius, when Sergius was patriarch of Constantinople,\nthere lived in Byzantium a merchant named Theodore, a good man and just,\nfearing God, and serving him with all his heart. He went on a voyage to\nthe ports of Syria and Palestine with his wares, in a large well-laden\nvessel, sold his goods to profit, and turned his ship's head homewards\nwith a good lading of silks and spices, the former some of the produce\nof the looms of distant China, brought in caravans through Persia and\nSyria to the emporiums on the Mediterranean.\n\nIt was late in the year when Theodore began his voyage home, the\nequinoctial gales had begun to blow, and prudence would have suggested\nthat he should winter in Cyprus; but he was eager to return to Byzantium\nto his beloved wife, and to prepare for another adventure in the ensuing\nspring.\n\nBut he was overtaken by a storm as he was sailing up the Propontis, and\nto save the vessel he was obliged to throw all the lading overboard. He\nreached Constantinople in safety, but with the loss of his goods. His\ngrief and despair were excessive. His wife was unable to console him. He\ndeclared that he was weary of the world, his loss was sent him as a\nwarning from heaven not to set his heart on Mammon, and that he was\nresolved to enter a monastery, and spend the rest of his days in\ndevotion.\n\n\"Hasten, husband mine,\" said the wife, \"put this scheme into execution\nat once; for if you delay you may change your mind.\"\n\nThe manifest impatience of his wife to get rid of him somewhat cooled\nthe ardour of Theodore for the monastic profession, and before taking\nthe irrevocable step, he consulted a friend. \"I think, dearest brother,\nnay, I am certain, that this misfortune came on me as the indication of\nthe finger of Providence that I should give up merchandise and care only\nfor the saving of my soul.\"\n\n\"My friend,\" answered the other, \"I do not see this in the same light as\nyou. Every merchant must expect loss. It is one of the ordinary risks of\nsailors. It is absurd to despair. Go to your friends and borrow of them\nsufficient to load your vessel again, and try your luck once more. You\nare known as a merchant, and trusted as an honest man, and will have no\ndifficulty in raising the sum requisite.\"\n\nTheodore rushed home, and announced to his wife that he had already\nchanged his mind, and that he was going to borrow money.\n\n\"Whatever pleases you is right in my eyes,\" said the lady.\n\nTheodore then went the round of his acquaintances, told them of his\nmisfortune, and then asked them to lend him enough to restock his\nvessel, promising to pay them a good percentage on the money lent. But\nthe autumn had been fatal to more vessels than that of Theodore, and he\nfound that no one was disposed to advance him the large sum he required.\nHe went from door to door, but a cold refusal met him everywhere.\nDisappointed, and sick at heart, distressed at finding friends so\nunfriendly, he returned home, and said to his wife, \"Woman! the world is\nhard and heartless, I will have nothing more to do with it. I will\nbecome a monk.\"\n\n\"Dearest husband, do so by all means, and I shall be well pleased,\"\nanswered the wife.\n\nTheodore tossed on his bed all night, unable to sleep; before dawn an\nidea struck him. There was a Jew named Abram who had often importuned\nhim to trade with his money, but whom he had invariably refused. He\nwould try this man as a last resource.\n\nSo when morning came, Theodore rose and went to the shop of Abram. The\nHebrew listened attentively to his story, and then said, smiling,\n\"Master Theodore, when thou wast rich, I often asked thee to take my\nmoney and trade with it in foreign parts, so that I might turn it over\nwith advantage. But I always met with refusal. And now that thou art\npoor, with only an empty ship, thou comest to me to ask for a loan. What\nif again tempest should fall on thee, and wreck and ruin be thy lot,\nwhere should I look for my money? Thou art poor. If I were to sell thy\nhouse it would not fetch much. Nay, if I am to lend thee money thou must\nprovide a surety, to whom I may apply, and who will repay me, should\naccident befall thee. Go, find security, and I will find the money.\"\n\nSo Theodore went to his best friend, and told him the circumstances, and\nasked him to stand surety for him to the Jew.\n\n\"Dear friend,\" answered he, \"I should be most happy to oblige you; but I\nam a poor man, I have not as much money in the world as would suffice.\nThe Hebrew would not accept me as surety, he knows the state of my\naffairs too well. But I will do for you what little I can. We will go\ntogether to some merchants, and together beseech them to stand security\nfor you to the Jew.\"\n\nSo the two friends went to a rich merchant with whom they were\nacquainted, and told him what they wanted; but he blustered and turned\nred, and said, \"Away with you, fellows; who ever heard of such insolence\nas that two needy beggars should ask a man of substance like me to go\nwith them to the den of a cursed infidel Jew. God be thanked! I have no\ndealings with Jews. I never have spoken to one in my life, and never\ngive them a greeting when I pass any in street or market-place. A man\nwho goes to the Jews to-day, goes to the dogs to-morrow, and to the\ndevil the day after.\"\n\nThe friends visited other merchants, but with like ill-success. Theodore\nhad spent the day fasting, and he went supperless to bed, very hopeless,\nand with the prospect growing more distinct of being obliged to put on\nthe cowl of the monk, a prospect which somehow or other he did not\nrelish.\n\nNext morning he started from home to tell Abram his failure. His way\nwas through the great square called the Copper-Market before the\nImperial palace. Now there stood there a porch consisting of four\npillars, which supported a dome covered with brazen tiles, the whole\nsurmounted by a cross, on the east side of which, looking down on the\nsquare, and across over the sparkling Bosphorus to the hills of Asia,\nwas a large, solemn figure of the Crucified. This porch and cross had\nbeen set up by Constantine the Great,[10] and had been restored by\nAnastasius.\n\nAs Theodore sped through the Copper-Market in the morning, he looked up;\nthe sky was of the deepest gentian blue. Against it, glittering like\ngold in the early sun, above the blazing, brazen tiles, stood the great\ncross with the holy form thereon. Theodore halted, in his desolation,\ndoubt and despair, and looked up at the figure. It was in the old, grave\nByzantine style, very solemn, without the pain expressed in Medi\u00e6val\ncrucifixes, and like so many early figures of the sort was probably\nvested and crowned.\n\nA sudden inspiration took hold of the ruined man. He fell on his knees,\nstretched his hands towards the shining form, and cried, \"Lord Jesus\nChrist! the hope of the whole earth, the only succour of all who are\ncast down, the sure confidence of those that look to Thee! All on whom I\ncould lean have failed me. I have none on earth on whom I can call. Do\nThou, Lord, be surety for me, though I am unworthy to ask it.\" Then\nfilled with confidence he rose from his knees, and ran to the house of\nAbram, and bursting in on him said, \"Be of good cheer, I have found a\nSurety very great and noble and mighty. Trust thy money, He will keep it\nsafe.\"\n\nAbram answered, \"Let the man come, and sign the deed and see the money\npaid over.\"\n\n\"Nay, my brother,\" said Theodore; \"come thou with me. I have hurried in\nthus to bring thee to him.\"\n\nThen Abram went with Theodore, who led him to the Copper-Market, and\nbade him be seated, and then raising his finger, he pointed to the\nsacred form hanging on the cross, and, full of confidence, said to the\nHebrew, \"There, friend, thou could'st not have a better security than\nthe Lord of heaven and earth. I have besought Him to stand for me, and I\nknow He is so good that He will not deny me.\"\n\nThe Jew was perplexed. He said nothing for a moment or two, and then,\nwondering at the man's faith, answered, \"Friend, dost thou not know the\ndifference between the faith of a Christian and of a Hebrew? How can'st\nthou ask me to accept as thy surety, One whom thou believest my people\nto have rejected and crucified? However, I will trust thee, for thou art\na God-fearing and an honest man, and I will risk my money.\"\n\nSo they twain returned to the Jew's quarters, and Abram counted out\nfifty pounds of gold, in our money about \u00a32,400. He tied the money up in\nbags, and bade his servants bear it after Theodore. And Abram and the\nglad merchant came to the Copper-Market, and then the Jew ordered that\nthe money bags should be set down under the Tetrastyle where was the\ngreat crucifix. Then said the Hebrew usurer, \"See, Theodore, I make over\nto thee the loan here before thy God.\" And there, in the face of the\ngreat image of his Saviour, Theodore received the loan, and swore to\ndeal faithfully by the Jew, and to restore the money to him with usury.\n\nAfter this, the merchant bought a cargo for his vessel, and hired\nsailors, and set sail for Syria. He put into port at Tyre and Sidon, and\ntraded with his goods, and bought in place of them many rich Oriental\nstuffs, with spices and gums, and when his ship was well laden, he\nsailed for Constantinople.\n\nBut again misfortune befell him. A storm arose, and the sailors were\nconstrained to throw the bales of silk, and bags of costly gums, and\nvessels of Oriental chasing into the greedy waves. But as the ship began\nto fill, they were obliged to get into the boat and escape to land. The\nship keeled over and drifted into shallow water. When the storm abated\nthey got to her, succeeded in floating her, and made the best of their\nway in the battered ship to Constantinople, thankful that they had\npreserved their lives. But Theodore was in sad distress, chiefly because\nhe had lost Abram's money. \"How shall I dare to face the man who dealt\nso generously by me?\" he said to himself. \"What shall I say, when he\nreproaches me? What answer can I make to my Surety for having lost the\nmoney entrusted to me?\"\n\nNow when Abram heard that Theodore had arrived in Constantinople in his\nwrecked vessel with the loss of all his cargo, he went to him at once,\nand found the man prostrate in his chamber, the pavement wet with his\ntears of shame and disappointment. Abram laid his hand gently on his\nshoulder, and said, in a kind voice, \"Rise, my brother, do not be\ndowncast; give glory to God who rules all things as He wills, and follow\nme home. God will order all for the best.\"\n\nThen the merchant rose, and followed the Jew, but he would not lift his\neyes from the ground, for he was ashamed to look him in the face. Abram\nwas troubled at the distress of his friend, and he said to him, as he\nshut the door of his house, \"Let not thy heart be broken with overmuch\ngrief, dearest friend, for it is the mark of a wise man to bear all\nthings with firm mind. See! I am ready again to lend thee fifty pounds\nof gold, and may better fortune attend thee this time. I trust that our\nGod will bless the money and multiply it, so that in the end we shall\nlose nothing by our former misadventure.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Theodore, \"Christ shall again stand security for me. Bring\nthe money to the Tetrastyle.\"\n\nTherefore again the bags of gold were brought before the cross, and when\nthey had then been made over to the merchant, Abram said, \"Accept,\nMaster Theodore, this sum of fifty pounds of gold, paid over to thee\nbefore thy Surety, and go in peace. And may the Lord God prosper thee\non thy journey, and make plain the way before thee. And remember, that\nbefore this thy Surety thou art bound to me for a hundred pounds of\ngold.\"\n\nHaving thus spoken, Abram returned home. Theodore repaired and reloaded\nhis ship, engaged mariners and made ready to sail. But on the day that\nhe was about to depart, he went into the Copper-Market, and kneeling\ndown, with his face towards the cross, he prayed the Lord to be his\ncompanion and captain, and to guide him on his journey, and bring him\nsafe through all perils with his goods back to Byzantium once more.\n\nThen he went on to the house of Abram to bid him farewell. And the Jew\nsaid to him, \"Keep thyself safe, brother, and beware now of trusting thy\nship to the sea at the time of equinoctial gales. Thou hast twice\nexperienced the risk, run not into it again. Winter at the place whither\nthou goest, and that I may know how thou farest, if thou hast the\nopportunity, send me some of the money by a sure hand. Then there is\nless chance of total ruin, for if one portion fails, the other is likely\nto be secure.\"\n\nTheodore approved of this advice, and promised to follow it; so then the\nJew and the Christian parted with much affection and mutual respect, for\neach knew the other to be a good and true man, fearing God, and seeking\nto do that which is right. This time Theodore turned his ship's head\ntowards the West, intending to carry his wares to the markets of Spain.\nHe passed safely through the Straits of Hercules, and sailed North. Then\na succession of steady strong breezes blew from the South and swept him\non so that he could not get into harbour till he reached Britain. He\nanchored in a bay on the rugged Cornish coast, in the very emporium of\ntin and lead, in the Cassiterides famed of old for supplying ore\nprecious in the manufacture of bronze. He readily disposed of all his\nmerchandise, and bought as much tin and lead as his ship would hold. His\ngoods had sold so well, and tin and lead were so cheap that he found he\nhad fifty pounds in gold in addition to the cargo.\n\nThe voyage back from Britain to Byzantium was long and dangerous, and\nTheodore was uneasy. He found no other ships from Constantinople where\nhe was, and no means presented themselves for sending back the money in\npart, as he had promised. He was a conscientious man, and he wished to\nkeep his word.\n\nHe set sail from Cornwall before the summer was over, passed safely\nthrough the straits into the Mediterranean, but saw no chance of\nreaching Constantinople before winter. He would not again risk his\nvessel in the gales of the equinox, and he resolved to winter in Sicily.\nHe arrived too late in the year to be able to send a message and the\nmoney to Abram. His promise troubled him, and he cast about in his mind\nhow to keep his word.\n\nAt last, in the simple faith which coloured the whole life of the man,\nhe made a very solid wooden box and tarred it well internally and\nexternally. Then he inclosed in it the fifty pounds of gold he had made\nby his goods in Britain over and above his lading of lead and tin, and\nwith the money he put a letter, couched in these terms:\n\n\"In the name of my heir and God, my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ who is\nalso my Surety for a large sum of money, I, Theodore, humbly address my\nmaster Abram, who, with God, is my benefactor and creditor.\n\n\"I would have thee know, Master Abram, that we all, by the mercy of God,\nare in good health. God has verily prospered us well and brought our\nmerchandise to a good market. And now, see! I send thee fifty pounds of\ngold, which I commit to the care of my Surety, and He will convey the\nmoney safely to thy hands. Receive it from me and do not forget us.\nFarewell.\"\n\nThen he fastened up the box, and raised his eyes to heaven, and prayed\nto God, saying: \"O Lord Jesus Christ, Mediator between God and Man, Who\ndwellest in Heaven, but hast respect unto the lowly; hear the voice of\nthy servant this day; because Thou hast proved Thyself to me a good and\nkind Surety, I trust to Thee to return to my benefactor and creditor,\nAbram, the money I promised to send him. Trusting in Thee, Lord, I\ncommit this little box to the sea!\"\n\nSo saying he flung the case containing the gold and the letter into the\nwaves; and standing on a cliff watched it floating on the waters, rising\nand falling on the glittering wavelets, gradually drifting further and\nfurther out to sea, till it was lost to his sight, and then, nothing\ndoubting but that the Lord Christ would look after the little box and\nguide it over the waste of waters to its proper destination, he went\nback to his lodging, and told the ship pilot what he had done. The\nsailor remained silent wondering in his mind at the great faith of his\nmaster. Then his rough heart softened, and he knelt down and blessed and\npraised God.\n\nThat night Theodore had a dream, and in the morning he told it to the\npilot.\n\n\"I thought,\" said he, \"that I was back in Byzantium, and standing in the\nCopper-Market before the great cross with Christ on it. And I fancied in\nmy dream that Abram was at my side. And I looked, and saw him hold up\nhis hands, and receive the box in them, and the great figure of Christ\nsaid, 'See, Abram, I give thee what Theodore committed to my trust.'\nAnd, thereupon, I awoke trembling. So now I am quite satisfied that the\ngold is in safe keeping, and will infallibly reach its destination.\"\n\nThe summer passed, the storms of autumn had swept over the grey sea, and\ntorn away from the trees the last russet leaves; winter had set in; yet\nAbram had received no news of Theodore.\n\nHe did not doubt the good faith of his friend, but he began to fear that\nill-luck attended him. He had risked a large sum, and would feel the\nloss severely should this cargo be lost like the former one. He talked\nthe matter over with his steward, and considered it from every\nimaginable point of view. His anxiety took him constantly to the shore\nto watch the ships that arrived, hoping to hear news by some of them,\nand to recover part of his money. He hardly expected the return of\nTheodore after the injunctions he had given him not to risk his vessel\nin a stormy season.\n\nOne day he was walking with his steward by the sea-side, when the waves\nwere more boisterous than usual. Not a ship was visible. All were in\nwinter quarters. Abram drew off his sandals, and began to wash his feet\nin the sea water. Whilst so doing he observed something floating at a\nlittle distance. With the assistance of his steward he fished out a box\nblack with tar, firmly fastened up, like a solid cube of wood. Moved by\ncuriosity he carried the box home, and succeeded with a little\ndifficulty in forcing it open. Inside he found a letter, not directed,\nbut marked with three crosses, and a bag of gold. It need hardly be said\nthat this was the box Theodore had entrusted to Christ, and his Surety\nhad fulfilled His trust and conveyed it to the hands of the creditor.\n\nNext spring Theodore returned to Constantinople in safety. As soon as he\nhad disembarked, he hastened to the house of Abram to tell him the\nresults of his voyage.\n\nThe Jewish usurer, wishing to prove him, feigned not to understand, when\nTheodore related how he had sent him fifty pounds of gold, and made as\nthough he had not received the money. But the merchant was full of\nconfidence, and he said, \"I cannot understand this, brother, for I\nenclosed the money in a box along with a letter, and committed it to the\ncustody of my Saviour Christ, Who has acted as Surety for me unworthy.\nBut as thou sayest that thou hast not received it, come with me, and let\nus go together before the crucifix, and say before it that thou hast not\nhad the money conveyed to thee, and then I will believe thy word.\"\n\nAbram promised to accompany his friend, and rising from their seats,\nthey went together to the Copper-Market. And when they came to the\nTetrastyle, Theodore raised his hands to the Crucified, and said, \"My\nSaviour and Surety, didst Thou not restore the gold to Abram that I\nentrusted to Thee for that purpose?\"\n\nThere was something so wonderful, so beautiful, in the man's faith, that\nAbram was overpowered; and withal there was the evidence that it was not\nmisplaced so clear to the Jew, that the light of conviction like a\ndazzling sunbeam darted into his soul, and Theodore saw the Hebrew\nusurer fall prostrate on the pavement, half fainting with the emotion\nwhich oppressed him.\n\nTheodore ran and fetched water in his hands and sprinkled his face, and\nbrought the usurer round. And Abram said, \"As God liveth, my friend, I\nwill not enter into my house till I have taken thy Lord and Surety for\nmy Master.\" A crowd began to gather, and it was bruited abroad that the\nJewish usurer sought baptism. And when the story reached the ears of the\nEmperor Heraclius, he glorified God. So Abram was put under instruction,\nand was baptised by the patriarch Sergius.[11]\n\nAnd after seven days a solemn procession was instituted through the\nstreets of Constantinople to the Copper-Market, in which walked the\nemperor and the patriarch, and all the clergy of the city; and the box\nwhich had contained the money was conveyed by them to the Tetrastyle\nand laid up, along with the gold and the letter before the image, to be\na memorial of what had taken place to all generations. And thenceforth\nthe crucifix received the common appellation of Antiphonetos, or the\nSurety.\n\nAs for the tin and lead with which the vessel of Theodore was freighted,\nit sold for a great price, so that both he and Abram realised a large\nsum by the transaction. But neither would keep to himself any portion of\nit, but gave it all to the Church of S. Sophia, and therewith a part of\nthe sanctuary was overlaid with silver. Then Theodore and his wife, with\nmutual consent, gave up the world and retired into monastic\ninstitutions.\n\nAbram afterwards built and endowed an oratory near the Tetrastyle, and\nSergius ordained him priest and his two sons deacons.\n\nThus ends this strange and very beautiful story, which I have merely\ncondensed from the somewhat prolix narrative of the Byzantine preacher.\nThe reader will probably agree with me that if sermons in the 19th\ncentury were as entertaining as this of the 10th, fewer people would be\nfound to go to sleep during their delivery.\n\nI have told the tale as related by the preacher. But there are reasons\nwhich awaken suspicion that he somewhat erred as to his dates; but that,\nnevertheless the story is really not without a foundation of fact.\nTowards the close of the oration the preacher points to the ambone, and\nthe thusiasterion, and bids his hearers remark how they are overlaid\nwith silver, and this he says was the silver that Abram, the wealthy\nJewish usurer, and Theodore, the merchant, gave to the Church of S.\nSophia.\n\nNow it happens that we have got a contemporary record of this overlaying\nof the sanctuary with silver; we know from the pen of Procopius of Gaza\nthat it took place in the reign of Justinian in A.D. 537.[12]\n\nThis was preparatory to the dedication of the great Church, when the\nEmperor and the wealthy citizens of Byzantium were lavishly contributing\nto the adornment of the glorious building.\n\nWe can quite understand how that the new convert and the grateful\nmerchant were carried away by the current of the general enthusiasm, and\ngave all their silver to the plating of the sanctuary of the new Church.\nProcopius tells us that forty thousand pounds of silver were spent in\nthis work. Not all of this, however, could have been given by Abram and\nTheodore.\n\nIf this then were the date of the conversion of Abram, for Heraclius we\nmust read Justinian, and for Sergius we must substitute Mennas. As the\nsermon was not preached till four hundred years after, the error can be\naccounted for, one imperial benefactor of the Church was mistaken for\nanother.\n\nNow about the time of Justinian, we know from other sources that there\nwas a converted Jew named Abram who founded and built a church and\nmonastery in Constantinople, and which in after times was known as the\nAbramite Monastery. We are told this by John Moschus. We can not fix the\nexact date of the foundation, Moschus heard about A.D. 600 from the\nabbot John Rutilus, who had heard it from Stephen the Moabite, that the\nMonastery of the Abramites had been constructed by Abram who afterwards\nwas raised to the metropolitan See of Ephesus. We may put then the\nfoundation of the monastery at about A.D. 540.\n\nNow Abram of Ephesus succeeded Procopius who was bishop in 560; and his\nsuccessor was Rufinus in 597. The date of the elevation of Abram to the\nmetropolitan throne of Ephesus is not known exactly, but it was probably\nabout 565.\n\nThere is, of course, much conjecture in thus identifying the usurer\nAbram with Abram, Bishop of Ephesus; but there is certainly a\nprobability that they were identical; and if so, then one more pretty\nstory of the good man survives. After having built the monastery in\nConstantinople, Moschus tells us that Abram went to Jerusalem, the home\nto which a Jewish heart naturally turns, and there he set to work to\nerect another monastery. Now there was among the workmen engaged on the\nbuilding a mason who ate but sparingly, conversed with none, but worked\ndiligently, and prayed much in his hours of relaxation from labour.\n\nAbram became interested in the man, and called him to him, and learned\nfrom him his story. It was this. The mason had been a monk in the\nTheodorian Monastery along with his brother. The brother weary of the\nlife, had left and fallen into grave moral disorders. Then this one now\nacting as mason had gone after him, laid aside his cowl and undertaken\nthe same daily toil as the erring brother, that he might be with him,\nwaiting his time when by means of advice or example he might draw the\nyoung man from his life of sin. But though he had laid aside the outward\nemblems of his monastic profession, he kept the rule of life as closely\nas he was able, cultivating prayer and silence and fasting. Then Abram\ndeeply moved, said to the monk-mason: \"God will look on thy fraternal\ncharity; be of good courage, He will give thee thy brother at thy\npetition.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[9] This account is taken from a sermon preached in the Church of St.\nSophia at Constantinople on Orthodoxy Sunday, printed by Combefisius\n(Auctuarium novum, pars post. col. 644), from a MS. in the National\nLibrary at Paris. Another copy of the sermon is in the Library at Turin.\nThe probable date of the composition is the tenth century. Orthodoxy\nSunday was not instituted till 842.\n\n[10] This famous figure was cast down and broken by Leo the Isaurian in\n730, a riot ensued, the market-women interfering with the soldiers, who\nwere engaged on pulling down the figure, they shook the ladders and\nthrew down one who was engaged in hacking the face of the figure. This\nled to the execution of ten persons, among them Gregory, head of the\nbodyguard, and Mary, a lady of the Imperial family. The Empress Irene\nset up a mosaic figure in its place. This was again destroyed by Leo the\nArmenian, and again restored after his death by Theophilus in 829.\n\n[11] Sergius was patriarch of Constantinople between 610 and 638. He\nembraced the Monothelite heresy.\n\n[12] Fabricius, Bibl. Gr\u00e6ca, Ed. Harles, T.X. p. 124, 125.\n\n\n\n\nSophie Apitzsch.\n\n\n\"Some are born great,\" said Malvolio, strutting in yellow stockings,\ncross-gartered, before Olivia, \"some achieve greatness,\" and with a\nsmile, \"some have greatness thrust upon them.\"\n\nOf the latter was Sophie Sabine Apitzsch. She was not born great, she\nwas the daughter of an armourer. She hardly can be said to have achieved\ngreatness, though she did attain to notoriety; what greatness she had\nwas thrust on her, not altogether reluctant to receive it. But the\ngreatness was not much, and was of an ambiguous description. She was\ntreated for a while as a prince in disguise, and then became the theme\nof an opera, of a drama, and of a novel. For a hundred years her\ntop-boots were preserved as historical relics in the archives of the\nHouse of Saxony, till in 1813 a Cossack of the Russian army passing\nthrough Augustenburg, saw, desired, tried on, and marched off with them;\nand her boots entered Paris with the Allies.\n\nAbout five-and-twenty miles from Dresden lived in 1714 a couple of\nlanded proprietors, the one called Volkmar, and the other von G\u00fcnther,\nwho fumed with fiery hostility against each other, and the cause of\ndisagreement was, that the latter wrote himself von G\u00fcnther. Now, to get\na _von_ before the name makes a great deal of difference: it purifies,\nnay, it alters the colour of the blood, turning it from red to blue. No\none in Germany can prefix _von_ to his name as any one in England can\nappend Esq. to his. He must receive authorisation by diploma of nobility\nfrom his sovereign.\n\nGeorge von G\u00fcnther had been, not long before, plain George G\u00fcnther, but\nin 1712 he had obtained from the Emperor Charles VI. a patent of\nnobility, or gentility, they are the same abroad, and the motive that\nmoved his sacred apostolic majesty to grant the patent was--as set forth\ntherein--that an ancestor of George G\u00fcnther of the same name \"had sat\ndown to table with the elector John George II. of Saxony;\" and it was\ninconceivable that a mere citizen could have been suffered to do this,\nunless there were some nobility in him. George von G\u00fcnther possessed an\nestate which was a manor, a knight's fee, at J\u00e4gerhof, and he was\nmoreover upper Forester and Master of the Fisheries to the King-elector\nof Saxony, and Sheriff of Chemnitz and Frankenberg. He managed to marry\nhis daughters to men blessed with _von_ before their names, one to von\nBretschneider, Privy-Councillor of War, the other to a Major von\nW\u00f6llner.\n\nNow, all this was gall and wormwood to Councillor-of-Agriculture, Daniel\nVolkmar, who lived on his paternal acres at Hetzdorf, of which he was\nhereditary chief magistrate by virtue of his lordship of the acres. This\nman had made vain efforts to be ennobled. He could not find that any\nancestor of his had sat at table with an elector; and, perhaps, he could\nnot scrape together sufficient money to induce his sacred apostolic\nmajesty to overlook this defect. As he could not get his diploma, he\nsought how he might injure his more fortunate neighbour, and this he did\nby spying out his acts, watching for neglect of his duties to the fishes\nor the game, and reporting him anonymously to head-quarters. G\u00fcnther\nknew well enough who it was that sought to injure him, and, as Volkmar\nbelieved, had invited some of the gamekeepers to shoot him; accordingly,\nVolkmar never rode or walked in the neighbourhood of the royal forests\nand fish-ponds unarmed, and without servants carrying loaded muskets.\n\nOne day a brother magistrate, P\u00f6ckel by name, came over to see him about\na matter that puzzled him. There had appeared in the district under his\njurisdiction a young man, tall, well-built, handsome, but slightly\nsmall-pox-pitted, who had been arrested by the police for blowing a\nhunting-horn. Now ignoble lips might not touch a hunting-horn, and for\nany other than breath that issued out of noble lungs to sound a note on\nsuch a horn was against the laws.\n\n\"Oh,\" said Volkmar, \"if he has done this, and is not a gentleman--lock\nhim up. What is his name?\"\n\n\"He calls himself Karl Marbitz.\"\n\n\"But I, even I, may not blow a blast on a horn--that scoundrel G\u00fcnther\nmay. Deal with the fellow Marbitz with the utmost severity.\"\n\n\"But--suppose he may have the necessary qualification?\"\n\n\"How can he without a von before his name?\"\n\n\"Suppose he be a nobleman, or something even higher, in disguise?\"\n\n\"What, in disguise? Travelling incognito? Our Crown Prince is not at\nDresden.\"[13]\n\n\"Exactly. All kinds of rumours are afloat concerning this young man, who\nis, indeed, about the Crown Prince's age; he has been lodging with a\nbaker at Aue, and there blowing the horn.\"\n\n\"I'll go with you and see him. I will stand bail for him. Let him come\nto me. Hah-hah! George von G\u00fcnther, hah-hah!\"\n\nSo Volkmar, already more than half disposed to believe that the\nhorn-blower was a prince in disguise, rode over to the place where he\nwas in confinement, saw him, and lost what little doubt he had. The\nupright carriage, the aristocratic cast of features, the stand-off\nmanners, all betokened the purest of blue blood--all were glimmerings of\nthat halo which surrounds sovereignty.\n\nThe Crown Prince of Saxony was away--it was alleged, in France--making\nthe grand tour, but, was it not more likely that he was going the round\nof the duchy of Saxony, inquiring into the wants and wrongs of the\npeople? If so, who could better assist him to the knowledge of these\nthings, than he, Volkmar, and who could better open his eyes to the\ndelinquencies of high-placed, high-salaried officials--notably of the\nfisheries and forests?\n\n\"There is one thing shakes my faith,\" said P\u00f6ckel: \"our Crown Prince is\nnot small-pox marked.\"\n\n\"That is nothing,\" answered Volkmar eagerly. \"His Serenity has caught\nthe infection in making his studies among the people.\"\n\n\"And then--he is so shabbily dressed.\"\n\n\"That is nothing--it is the perfection of disguise.\"\n\nVolkmar carried off the young man to his house, and showed him the\ngreatest respect, insisted on his sitting in the carriage facing the\nhorses, and would on no account take a place at his side, but seated\nhimself deferentially opposite him.\n\nOn reaching Hetzdorf, Volkmar introduced his wife and his daughter\nJoanna to the distinguished prince, who behaved to them very graciously,\nand with the most courtly air expressed himself charmed with the room\nprepared for him.\n\nDinner was served, and politics were discussed; the reserve with which\nthe guest treated such subjects, the caution with which he expressed an\nopinion, served to deepen in Volkmar's mind the conviction that he had\ncaught the Crown Prince travelling incog. After the servants had\nwithdrawn, and when a good deal of wine--the best in the cellar--had\nbeen drunk, the host said confidentially in a whisper, \"I see clearly\nenough what you are.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" answered the guest, \"I can tell you what I am--by trade an\narmourer.\"\n\n\"Ah, ha! but by birth--what?\" said Volkmar, slyly, holding up his glass\nand winking over it.\n\n\"Well,\" answered the guest, \"I will admit this--I am not what I appear.\"\n\n\"And may I further ask your--I mean you--where you are at home?\"\n\n\"I am a child of Saxony,\" was the answer.\n\nAfterwards, at the trial, the defendant insisted that this was exactly\nthe reply made, whereas Volkmar asserted that the words were, \"I am a\nchild of the House of Saxony.\" But there can be no doubt that his\nimagination supplemented the actual words used with those he wished to\nhear.\n\n\"The small-pox has altered you since you left home,\" said Volkmar.\n\n\"Very likely. I have had the small-pox since I left my home.\"\n\nVolkmar at once placed his house, his servants, his purse, at the\ndisposal of his guest, and his offer was readily accepted.\n\nIt is now advisable to turn back and explain the situation, by relating\nthe early history of this person, who passed under the name of Karl\nMarbitz, an armourer; but whom a good number of people suspected of\nbeing something other than what he gave himself out to be, though only\nVolkmar and P\u00f6ckel and one or two others supposed him to be the Crown\nPrince of Saxony.\n\nSophie Sabine Apitzsch was born at Lunzenau in Saxony in 1692, was well\nbrought up, kept to school, and learned to write orthographically, and\nto have a fair general knowledge of history and geography. When she left\nschool she was employed by her father in his trade, which was that of an\narmourer. She was tall and handsome, somewhat masculine--in after years\na Cossack got into her boots--had the small-pox, which, however, only\nslightly disfigured her. In 1710 she had a suitor, a gamekeeper,\nMelchior Leonhart. But Sophie entertained a rooted dislike to marriage,\nand she kept her lover off for three years, till her father peremptorily\nordered her to marry Melchior, and fixed the day for the wedding. Then\nSophie one night got out of her own clothing, stepped into her father's\nbest suit, and walked away in the garments of a man, and shortly\nafterwards appeared in Anspach under a feigned name, as a barber's\nassistant. Here she got into difficulties with the police, as she had no\npapers of legitimation, and to escape them, enlisted. She carried a\nmusket for a month only, deserted, and resumed her vagabond life in\ncivil attire, as a barber's assistant, and came to Leipzig, where she\nlodged at the Golden Cock. How she acquired the art, and how those liked\nit on whose faces she made her experiments with the razor, we are not\ntold.\n\nAt the Golden Cock lodged an athletic lady of the name of Anna Franke,\nstout, muscular, and able to lift great weights with her teeth, and with\na jerk throw them over her shoulders. Anna Franke gave daily exhibitions\nof her powers, and on the proceeds maintained herself and her daughter,\na girl of seventeen. The stout and muscular lady also danced on a tight\nrope, which with her bounces acted like a taut bowstring, projecting the\nathlete high into the air.\n\nThe Fr\u00e4ulein Franke very speedily fell in love with the fine young\nbarber, and proposed to her mother that Herr Karl should be taken into\nthe concern, as he would be useful to stretch the ropes, and go round\nfor coppers. Sophie was nothing loth to have her inn bill paid on these\nterms, but when finally the bouncing mother announced that her\ndaughter's hand was at the disposal of Karl, then the situation became\neven more embarrassing than that at home from which Sophie had run away.\nThe barber maintained her place as long as she could, but at last, when\nthe endearments of the daughter became oppressive, and the urgency of\nthe mother for speedy nuptials became vexatious, she pretended that the\nfather, who was represented as a well-to-do citizen of Hamburg, must\nfirst be consulted. On this plea Sophie borrowed of Mother Franke the\nrequisite money for her journey and departed, promising to return in a\nfew weeks. Instead of fulfilling her promise, Sophie wrote to ask for a\nfurther advance of money, and when this was refused, disappeared\naltogether from the knowledge of the athlete and her daughter.\n\nOn this second flight from marriage, Sophie Apitzsch met with an\narmourer named Karl Marbitz, and by some means or other contrived to get\npossession of his pass, leaving him instead a paper of legitimation made\nout under the name of Karl Gottfried, which old Mother Franke had\ninduced the police to grant to the young barber who was engaged to marry\nher daughter.\n\nIn June 1714, under the name of Marbitz, Sophie appeared among the\nErz-Gebirge, the chain of mountains that separate Saxony from Bohemia,\nand begged her way from place to place, pretending to be a schoolmaster\nout of employ. After rambling about for some time, she took up her\nquarters with a baker at Elterlein. Here it was that for the first time\na suspicion was aroused that she was a person of greater consequence\nthan she gave out. The rumour reached the nearest magistrate that there\nwas a mysterious stranger there who wore a ribbon and star of some\norder, and he at once went to the place to make inquiries, but found\nthat Sophie had neither ribbon nor order, and that her papers declared\nin proper form who and what she was. At this time she fell ill at the\nbaker's house, and the man, perhaps moved by the reports abroad\nconcerning her, was ready to advance her money to the amount of \u00a36 or\n\u00a37. When recovered, she left the village where she had been ill, and\nwent to another one, where she took up her abode with another baker,\nnamed Fischer, whom she helped in his trade, or went about practising\nupon the huntsman's horn.\n\nThis amusement it was which brought her into trouble. Possibly she may\nnot have known that the horn was a reserved instrument that might not be\nplayed by the ignoble.\n\nAt the time that Volkmar took her out of the lockup, and carried her off\nto his mansion in his carriage, she was absolutely without money, in\nthreadbare black coat, stockings ill darned, and her hair very much in\nwant of powder.\n\nHitherto her associates had been of the lowest classes; she had been\nsuperior to them in education, in morals, and in character, and had to\nsome extent imposed on them. They acknowledged in her an undefined\ndignity and quiet reserve, with unquestioned superiority in attainments\nand general tone of mind, and this they attributed to her belonging to a\nvastly higher class in society.\n\nNow, all at once she was translated into another condition of life, one\nin which she had never moved before; but she did not lose her head; she\nmaintained the same caution and reserve in it, and never once exposed\nher ignorance so as to arouse suspicion that she was not what people\ninsisted on believing her to be. She was sufficiently shrewd never by\nword to compromise herself, and afterwards, when brought to trial, she\ninsisted that she had not once asserted that she was other than Karl\nMarbitz the armourer. Others had imagined she was a prince, but she had\nnot encouraged them in their delusion by as much as a word. That, no\ndoubt, was true, but she accepted the honours offered and presents made\nher under this erroneous impression, without an attempt to open the eyes\nof the deluded to their own folly.\n\nPerhaps this was more than could be expected of her. \"Foolery,\" said the\nclown in \"Twelfth Night,\" \"does walk about the orb, like the sun; it\nshines everywhere\"--and what are fools but the natural prey of the\nclever?\n\nSophie had been ill, reduced to abject poverty, was in need of good\nfood, new clothes, and shelter; all were offered, even forced upon her.\nWas she called upon to reject them? She thought not.\n\nNow that Volkmar had a supposed prince under his roof he threw open his\nhouse to the neighbourhood, and invited every gentleman he knew--except\nthe von G\u00fcnthers. He provided the prince with a coat of scarlet cloth\nfrogged and laced with gold, with a new hat, gave him a horse, filled\nhis purse, and provided him with those identical boots in which a\ncentury later a Cossack marched into Paris.\n\nShe was addressed by her host and hostess as \"Your Highness,\" and \"Your\nSerenity,\" and they sought to kiss her hand, but she waived away these\nexhibitions of servility, saying, \"Let be--we will regard each other as\non a common level.\" Once Volkmar said slyly to her, \"What would your\naugust father say if he knew you were here?\"\n\n\"He would be surprised,\" was all the answer that could be drawn from\nher. One day the newspaper contained information of the Crown Prince's\ndoings in Paris with his tutor and attendants. Volkmar pointed it out to\nher with a twinkle of the eye, saying, \"Do not suppose I am to be\nhoodwinked by such attempts to deceive the public as that.\"\n\nIn the mornings when the pseudo prince left the bedroom, outside the\ndoor stood Herr Volkmar, cap in hand, bowing. As he offered her a pinch\nof snuff from a gold _tabati\u00e8re_ one day, he saw her eyes rest on it; he\nat once said, \"This belonged formerly to the K\u00f6nigsmark.\"\n\n\"Then,\" she replied, \"it will have the double initials on it. 'A' for\nAurora.\"\n\nNow, argued Volkmar, how was it likely that his guest should know the\nscandalous story of Augustus I. and the fair Aurora of K\u00f6nigsmark,\nmother of the famous French marshal, unless he had belonged to the royal\nfamily of Saxony?[14] He left out of account that Court scandal is\ntalked about everywhere, and is in the mouths of all. Then he presented\nher with the snuff-box. Next he purchased for her a set of silver plate\nfor her cover, and ordered a ribbon and a star of diamonds, because it\nbecame one of such distinguished rank not to appear without a\ndecoration! As the girl said afterwards at her trial, she had but to\nhint a desire for anything, and it was granted her at once. Her host\nsomewhat bored her with political disquisitions; he was desirous of\nimpressing on his illustrious guest what a political genius he was, and\nin his own mind had resolved to become prime minister of Saxony in the\nplace of the fallen Beichlingen, who was said to have made so much money\nout of the State that he could buy a principality, and who, indeed,\nstruck a medal with his arms on it surmounted by a princely crown.\n\nBut Volkmar's ambition went further. As already stated he had a\ndaughter--the modest Joanna; what a splendid opportunity was in the\nhands of the scheming parents! If the young prince formed an attachment\nfor Joanna, surely he might get the emperor to elevate her by diploma to\nthe rank of a princess, and thus Volkmar would see his Joanna Queen of\nPoland and Electress of Saxony. He and Frau Volkmar were far too good\npeople to scheme to get their daughter such a place as the old\nK\u00f6nigsmark had occupied with the reigning sovereign. Besides, K\u00f6nigsmark\nhad been merely created a countess, and who would crave to be a countess\nwhen she might be Queen? and a favourite, when, by playing her cards\nwell, she might become a legitimate wife?\n\nSo the old couple threw Joanna at the head of their guest, and did their\nutmost to entangle him. In the meantime the von G\u00fcnthers were flaming\nwith envy and rage. They no more doubted that the Volkmars had got the\nCrown Prince living with them, than did the Volkmars themselves. The\nwhole neighbourhood flowed to the entertainments given in his honour at\nHetzdorf; only the von G\u00fcnthers were shut out. But von G\u00fcnther met the\nmysterious stranger at one or two of the return festivities given by the\ngentry who had been entertained at Hetzdorf, and he seized on one of\nthese occasions boldly to invite his Highness to pay him also a visit at\nhis \"little place;\" and what was more than he expected, the offer was\naccepted.\n\nIn fact, the Apitzsch who had twice run away from matrimony, was\nbecoming embarrassed again by the tenderness of Joanna and the ambition\nof the parents.\n\nThe dismay of the Volkmars passes description when their guest informed\nthem he was going to pay a visit to the hated rivals.\n\nSophie was fetched away in the von G\u00fcnther carriage, and by servants put\ninto new liveries for the occasion, and was received and entertained\nwith the best at J\u00e4gerhof. Here, also, presents were made; among others\na silver cover for table was given her by the daughter of her host, who\nhad married a major, and who hoped, in return, to see her husband\nadvanced to be a general.\n\nShe was taken to see the royal castle of Augustusburg, and here a little\ndifference of testimony occurs as to the observation she made in the\nchapel, which was found to be without an organ. At her trial it was\nasserted that she had said, \"I must order an organ,\" but she positively\nswore she had said, \"An organ ought to be provided.\" She was taken also\nto the mansion of the Duke of Holstein at Weisenburg, where she\npurchased one of his horses--that is to say, agreed to take it, and let\nher hosts find the money.\n\nThe visit to the von G\u00fcnthers did not last ten days, and then she was\nback again with the Volkmars, to their exuberant delight. Why she\nremained so short a time at J\u00e4gerhof does not appear. Possibly she may\nhave been there more in fear of detection than at Hetzdorf. Now that the\nVolkmars had her back they would not let her out of their sight. They\ngave her two servants in livery to attend her; they assured her that her\nabsence had so affected Joanna that the girl had done nothing but weep,\nand had refused to eat. They began to press in their daughter's interest\nfor a declaration of intentions, and that negotiations with the Emperor\nshould be opened that a title of princess of the Holy Roman Empire might\nbe obtained for her as preliminary to the nuptials.\n\nSophie Apitzsch saw that she must again make a bolt to escape the\nmarriage ring, and she looked about for an opportunity. But there was no\nevading the watch of the Volkmars, who were alarmed lest their guest\nshould again go to the hated von G\u00fcnthers.\n\nWell would it have been for the Volkmars had they kept the \"prince\"\nunder less close surveillance, and allowed him to succeed in his\nattempts to get away. It would have been to their advantage in many\nways.\n\nA fortnight or three weeks passed, and the horse bought of the Duke of\nHolstein had not been sent In fact the Duke, when the matter was\ncommunicated to him, was puzzled. He knew that the Crown Prince was in\nParis, and could not have visited his stables, and promised to purchase\nhis horse. So he instituted inquiries before he consented to part with\nthe horse, and at once the bubble burst. Police arrived at Hetzdorf to\narrest the pretender, and convey her to Augustusburg, where she was\nimprisoned, till her trial. This was in February, 1715. In her prison\nshe had an apoplectic stroke, but recovered. Sentence was pronounced\nagainst her by the court at Leipzig in 1716, that she should be publicly\nwhipped out of the country. That is to say, sent from town to town, and\nwhipped in the market-place of each, till she was sent over the\nfrontier. In consideration of her having had a stroke, the king commuted\nthe sentence to whipping in private, and imprisonment at his majesty's\npleasure.\n\nShe does not seem to have been harshly treated by the gaoler of\nWaldheim, the prison to which she was sent. She was given her own room,\nshe dined at the table of the gaoler, continued to wear male clothes,\nand was cheerful, obedient, and contented. In 1717 both she and her\nfather appealed to the king for further relaxation of her sentence, but\nthis was refused. The prison authorities gave her the best testimony for\ngood conduct whilst in their hands.\n\nIn the same year, 1717, the unfortunate Volkmar made a claim for the\nscarlet coat--which he said the moths were likely to eat unless placed\non some one's back--the gold snuff-box, the silver spoons, dishes,\nforks, the horse, the watch, and various other things he had given\nSophie, being induced to do so by false representations. The horse as\nwell as the plate, the star, the snuff-box, the coat and the boots had\nall been requisitioned as evidence before her trial. The question was a\nhard one to solve, whether Herr Volkmar could recover presents, and it\nhad to be transmitted from one court to another. An order of court dated\nJanuary, 1722, required further evidence to be produced before purse,\ncoat, boots, &c., could be returned to Volkmar--that is, _seven_ years\nafter they had been taken into the custody of the Court. The horse must\nhave eaten more than his cost by this time, and the coat must have lost\nall value through moth-eating. The cost of proceedings was heavy, and\nVolkmar then withdrew from his attempt to recover the objects given to\nthe false prince.\n\nBut already--long before, by decree of October 1717--Sophie Apitzsch had\nbeen liberated. She left prison in half male, half female costume, and\nin this dress took service with a baker at Waldheim; and we hear no more\nof her, whether she married, and when she died.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[13] Augustus the Strong was King of Poland and Elector of Saxony.\n\n[14] Aurora v. K\u00f6nigsmark went out of favour in 1698--probably then sold\nthe gold snuff-box. She died in 1728.\n\n\n\n\nPeter Nielsen.\n\n\nOn the 29th day of April in the year 1465, died Henry Strangebjerg,\nbishop of Ribe in Denmark, after having occupied the See for just ten\nyears. For some days before his decease public, official prayer had been\nmade for his recovery by the Cathedral Chapter, but in their hearts the\nCanons were impatient for his departure. Not, be it understood, that the\nBishop was an unworthy occupant of the See of Liafdag the Martyr--on the\ncontrary, he had been a man of exemplary conduct; nor because he was\nharsh in his rule--on the contrary, he had been a lenient prelate. The\nreason why, when official prayer was made for his recovery, it was\nneutralised by private intercession for his removal, was solely\nthis--his removal opened a prospect of advancement.\n\nThe Cathedral Chapter of Ribe consisted of fifteen Canons, and a Dean or\nProvost, all men of family, learning and morals. Before the doctors had\nshaken their heads over the sick bed of Henry Strangebjerg, it was known\nthroughout Ribe that there would be four candidates for the vacant\nthrone. It was, of course, impossible for more than one man to be\nelected; but as the election lay entirely and uncontrolledly in the\nhands of the Chapter, it was quite possible for a Canon to make a good\nthing out of an election without being himself elected. The bishops\nnominated to many benefices, and there existed then no law against\npluralities. The newly chosen prelate, if he had a spark of gratitude,\nmust reward those faithful men who had made him bishop.\n\nAt 4 p.m. on April 29th the breath left the body of Henry Strangebjerg.\nAt 4.15 p.m. the Chapter were rubbing their hands and drawing sighs of\nrelief. But Thomas Lange, the Dean, rubbed his hands and drew his sigh\nof relief ten minutes earlier, viz., at 4.5 p.m., for he stood by the\nbed of the dying bishop. At 3.25 p.m. Thomas Lange's nerves had received\na great shock, for a flicker as of returning life had manifested itself\nin the sick man, and for a few minutes he really feared he might\nrecover. At 4.10 p.m. Hartwig Juel, the Archdeacon, who had been\nstanding outside the bishop's door, was seen running down the corridor\nwith a flush in his cheeks. Through the keyhole he had heard the Dean\nexclaim: \"Thank God!\" and when he heard that pious ejaculation, he knew\nthat all dread of the Bishop's restoration was over. It was not till so\nlate as 4.20 p.m. that Olaf Petersen knew it. Olaf was kneeling in the\nCathedral, in the Chapel of St. Lambert, the yellow chapel as it was\ncalled, absorbed in devotion, consequently the news did not reach him\ntill five minutes after the Chapter, twenty minutes after the vacation\nof the See. Olaf Petersen was a very holy man; he was earnest and\nsincere. He was, above everything, desirous of the welfare of the Church\nand the advancement of religion. He was ascetic, denying himself in\nfood, sleep and clothing, and was profuse in his alms and in his\ndevotions. He saw the worldliness, the self-seeking, the greed of gain\nand honours that possessed his fellows, and he was convinced that one\nthing was necessary for the salvation of Christianity in Ribe, and that\none thing was his own election to the See.\n\nThe other candidates were moved by selfish interests. He cared only for\ntrue religion. Providence would do a manifest injustice if it did not\ntake cognizance of his integrity and interfere to give him the mitre. He\nwas resolved to use no unworthy means to secure it. He would make no\npromises, offer no bribes--that is, to his fellow Canons, but he\npromised a silver candlestick to St. Lambert, and bribed St. Gertrude to\nintervene with the assurance of a pilgrimage to her shrine.\n\nWe have mentioned only three of the candidates. The fourth was Jep\nMundelstrup, an old and amiable man, who had not thrust himself forward,\nbut had been put forward by his friends, who considered him sufficiently\nmalleable to be moulded to their purposes.\n\nJep was, as has been said, old; he was so old that it was thought (and\nhoped), if chosen, his tenure of office would be but brief. Four or five\nyears--under favourable circumstances, such as a changeable winter, a\nraw spring with east winds--he might drop off even sooner, and leave the\nmitre free for another scramble.\n\nThe Kings of Denmark no longer nominated to the Sees, sent no _cong\u00e9\nd'\u00e9lire_ to the Chapter. They did not even appoint to the Canonries.\nConsequently the Canons had everything pretty much their own way, and\nhad only two things to consider, to guide their determination--the good\nof the Church and their own petty interests. The expression \"good of\nthe Church\" demands comment. \"The good of the Church\" was the motive,\nthe only recognised motive, on which the Chapter were supposed to act.\nPractically, however, it was non-existent as a motive. It was a mere\nfigure of speech used to cloak selfish ambition.\n\nFrom this sweeping characterisation we must, however, exclude Olaf\nPetersen, who did indeed regard pre-eminently the good of the Church,\nbut then that good was, in his mind, inextricably involved with his own\nfortunes. He was the man to make religion a living reality. He was the\nman to bring the Church back to primitive purity. He could not blind his\neyes to the fact that not one of the Canons beside himself cared a\nfarthing for spiritual matters; therefore he desired the mitre for his\nown brows.\n\nThe conclave at which the election was to be made was fixed for the\nafternoon of the day on which Henry Strangebjerg was to be buried, and\nthe burial was appointed to take place as soon as was consistent with\ndecency.\n\nThe whole of the time between the death and the funeral was taken up by\nthe Canons with hurrying to and from each other's residences, canvassing\nfor votes.\n\nOlaf Petersen alone refrained from canvassing, he spent his whole time\nin fasting and prayer, so anxious was he for the welfare of the Church\nand the advancement of true religion.\n\nAt length--Boom! Boom! Boom! The great bell of the minster tower\nsummoned the Chapter to the hall of conclave. Every Canon was in his\nplace, fifteen Canons and the provost, sixteen in all. It was certain\nthat the provost, although chairman, would claim his right to vote, and\nexercise it, voting for himself. It was ruled that all voting should be\nopen, for two reasons--that the successful candidate might know who had\ngiven him their shoulders on which to mount, and so reward these\nshoulders by laying many benefices upon them, and secondly, that he\nmight know who had been his adversaries, and so might exclude them from\npreferments. Every one believed he would be on the winning side, no one\nsupposed the other alternative possible.\n\nThe candidates, as already intimated, were four. Thomas Lange, the Dean,\nwho belonged to a good, though not wealthy family. He had been in\nbusiness before taking orders, and brought with him into the Church\npractical shrewdness and business habits. He had husbanded well the\nresources of the Chapter, and had even enlarged its revenue by the\npurchase of three farms and a manor.\n\nThe second candidate, Hartwig Juel, was a member of a powerful noble\nfamily. His brother was at Court and highly regarded by King Christian.\nHis election would gratify the king. Hartwig Juel was Archdeacon.\n\nThe third candidate was the good old Jep Mundelstrup; and the fourth was\nthe representative of the ascetic, religious party, which was also the\nparty of reform, Olaf Petersen.\n\nThe Dean was, naturally, chairman. Before taking the chair he announced\nhis intention of voting. The four candidates were proposed, and the\nvotes taken.\n\nThe Dean numbered 4.\n\nHartwig Juel numbered 4.\n\nJep Mundelstrup numbered 4.\n\nOlaf Petersen numbered 4.\n\nMoreover, each candidate had voted for himself.\n\nWhat was to be done? The Chapter sat silent, looking about them in each\nothers' faces.\n\nThen the venerable Jep Mundelstrup, assisted by those who sat by him,\nstaggered to his feet, and leaning on his staff, he mumbled forth this\naddress: \"My reverend brothers, it was wholly without my desire and not\nin furtherance of any ambition of mine, that my name was put up as that\nof a candidate for the vacant mitre of the Holy See of Ribe. I am old\nand infirm. With the patriarch Jacob I may say, 'Few and evil have been\nthe days of the years of my life.' and I am not worthy to receive so\ngreat an honour. Evil my days have been, because I have had only my\nCanonry and one sorry living to support me; and there are comforts I\nshould desire in my old age which I cannot afford. My health is not\nsound. I shrink from the responsibilities and labours of a bishopric. If\nI withdraw my candidature, I feel confident that the successful\ncandidate will not forget my infirmities, and the facility I have\nafforded for his election. I decline to stand, and at the same time,\nlest I should seem to pose in opposition to three of my excellent\nbrethren, I decline also to vote.\" Then he sat down, amidst general\napplause.\n\nHere was an unexpected simplification of matters. The Dean and Hartwig\nJuel cast kindly, even affectionate glances at those who had previously\nvoted for Jep, Olaf Petersen looked up to heaven and prayed.\n\nAgain, the votes were taken, and again the chairman claimed his right to\nvote.\n\nWhen taken they stood thus:\n\nThe Dean, 5.\n\nHartwig Juel, 5.\n\nOlaf Petersen, 5.\n\nWhat was to be done? Again the Chapter sat silent, rubbing their chins,\nand casting furtive glances at each other. The Chapter was adjourned to\nthe same hour on the morrow. The intervening hours were spent in\nnegociations between the several parties, and attempts made by the two\nfirst in combination to force Olaf Petersen to resign his candidature.\nBut Olaf was too conscientious a man to do this. He felt that the\nsalvation of souls depended on his staying the plague like Phinehas with\nhis censer.\n\nBoom! Boom! Boom! The Cathedral bell again summoned the conclave to the\nChapter House.\n\nBefore proceeding to business the Dean, as chairman, addressed the\nelectors. He was an eloquent man, and he set in moving words before them\nthe solemnity of the duty imposed on them, the importance of considering\nonly the welfare of the Church, and the responsibility that would weigh\non them should they choose an unworthy prelate. He conjured them in\ntones vibrating with pathos, to put far from them all self-seeking\nthoughts, and to be guided only by conscience. Then he sat down. The\nvotes were again taken. Jep Mundelstrup again shaking his head, and\nrefusing to vote. When counted, they stood thus.\n\nThomas Lange, 5.\n\nHartwig Juel, 5.\n\nOlaf Petersen, 5.\n\nThen up started the Dean, very red in the face, and said, \"Really this\nis preposterous! Are we to continue this farce? Some of the brethren\nmust yield for the general good. I would cheerfully withdraw my\ncandidature, but for one consideration. You all know that the temporal\naffairs of the See have fallen into confusion. Our late excellent\nprelate was not a man of business, and there has been alienation, and\nunderletting, and racking out of church lands, which I have marked with\nanxiety, and which I am desirous to remedy. You all know that I have\nthis one good quality, I am a business man, understand account keeping,\nand look sharp after the pecuniary interests of the Chapter lands. It is\nessential that the lands of the See should be attended to by some\npractical man like myself, therefore I do not withdraw from my\ncandidature, but therefore only--\"\n\nThen up sprang Hartwig Juel, and said, \"The very Reverend the Dean has\nwell said, this farce must not continue. Some must yield if a bishop is\nto be elected. I would cheerfully withdraw from candidature but for one\nlittle matter. I hold in my hand a letter received this morning from my\nbrother, who tells me that his most gracious majesty, King Christian,\nexpressed himself to my brother in terms of hope that I should be\nelected. You, my reverend brothers, all know that we are living in a\ncritical time when it is most necessary that a close relation, a\ncordial relation, should be maintained between the Church and the State.\nTherefore, in the political interests of the See, but only in these\ninterests, I cannot withdraw my candidature.\"\n\nThen all eyes turned on Olaf Petersen. His face was pale, his lips set.\nHe stood up, and leaning forward said firmly, \"The pecuniary and the\npolitical interests of the See are as nothing to me, its spiritual\ninterests are supreme. Heaven is my witness, I have no personal ambition\nto wear the mitre. I know it will cause exhausting labour and terrible\nresponsibilities, from which I shrink. Nevertheless, seeing as I do that\nthis is a period in the history of the Church when self-seeking and\ncorruption have penetrated her veins and are poisoning her life-blood,\nseeing as I do that unless there be a revival of religion, and an\nattempt at reform be made within the Church, there will ensue such a\nconvulsion as will overthrow her, therefore, and only therefore do I\nfeel that I can not withdraw from my candidature.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the Dean in a crusty tone. \"There is nothing for it\nbut for us to vote again. Now at least we have clear issues before us,\nthe temporal, the political, and the spiritual interests of the Church.\"\nThe votes were again taken, and stood thus.\n\nThe temporal interests, 5.\n\nThe political interests, 5.\n\nThe spiritual interests, 5.\n\nHere was a dead lock. It was clear that parties were exactly divided,\nand that none would yield.\n\nAfter a pause of ten minutes, Jep Mundelstrup was again helped to his\nfeet. He looked round the Chapter with blinking eyes, and opened and\nshut his mouth several times before he came to speak. At last he said,\nin faltering tones, \"My reverend brethren, it is clear to me that my\nresignation has complicated, rather than helped matters forward. Do not\nthink I am about to renew my candidature, _that_ I am not, but I am\ngoing to make a proposition to which I hope you will give attentive\nhearing. If we go on in this manner, we shall elect no one, and then his\nMajesty, whom God bless, will step in and nominate.\"\n\n\"Hear, hear!\" from the adherents of Hartwig Juel.\n\n\"I do not for a moment pretend that the nominee of his Majesty would not\nprove an excellent bishop, but I do fear that a nomination by the crown\nwould be the establishment of a dangerous precedent.\"\n\n\"Hear! hear!\" from the adherents of Olaf Petersen.\n\n\"At the same time it must be borne in mind that the temporal welfare of\nthe See ought to be put in the hands of some one conversant with the\ncondition into which they have been allowed to lapse.\"\n\n\"Hear! hear!\" from the adherents of Thomas Lange.\n\n\"I would suggest, as we none of us can agree, that we refer the decision\nto an umpire.\"\n\nGeneral commotion, and whispers, and looks of alarm.\n\n\"How are we to obtain one at once conversant with the condition of the\ndiocese, and not a partizan?\" asked the Dean.\n\n\"There is a wretched little village in the midst of the Roager Heath,\ncut off from communication with the world, in which lives a priest named\nPeter Nielsen on his cure, a man who is related to no one here, belongs,\nI believe, to no gentle family, and, therefore, would have no family\ninterests one way or the other to bias him. He has the character of\nbeing a shrewd man of business, some of the estates of the Church are on\nthe Roager Heath, and he knows how they have been treated, and I have\nalways heard that he is a good preacher and an indefatigable parish\npriest. Let him be umpire. I can think of none other who would not be a\npartizan.\"\n\nThe proposition was so extraordinary and unexpected that the Chapter, at\nfirst, did not know what to think of it. Who was this Peter Nielsen? No\none knew of him anything more than what Jep Mundelstrup had said, and\nhe, it was believed, had drawn largely on his imagination for his facts.\nIndeed, he was the least known man among the diocesan clergy. It was\ndisputed whether he was a good preacher. Who had heard him? no one. Was\nit true that he was not a gentleman by birth? No one knew to what family\nhe belonged. In default of any other solution to the dead lock in which\nthe Chapter stood, it was agreed by all that the selection of a bishop\nfor Ribe should be left to Peter Nielsen of Roager.\n\nThat same day, indeed as soon after the dissolution of the meeting as\nwas possible, one of the Canons mounted his horse, and rode away to the\nRoager Heath.\n\nThe village of Ro or Raa-ager, literally the rough or barren field, lay\nin the dead flat of sandy heath that occupies so large a portion of the\ncentre and west coast of Jutland, and which goes by various names, as\nRandb\u00f6ll Heath and Varde Moor. In many places it is mere fen, where the\nwater lies and stagnates. In others it is a dry waste of sand strewn\nwith coarse grass and a few scant bushes. The village itself consisted\nof one street of cottages thatched with turf, and with walls built of\nthe same, heather and grass sprouting from the interstices of the\nblocks. The church was little more dignified than the hovels. It was\nwithout tower and bell. Near the church was the parsonage.\n\nThe Canon descended from his cob; he had ridden faster than was his\nwont, and was hot. He drew his sleeve across his face and bald head, and\nthen threw the bridle over the gate-post.\n\nIn the door of the parsonage stood a short, stout, rosy-faced, dark-eyed\nwoman, with two little children pulling at her skirts. This was Maren\nGrubbe, the housekeeper of the pastor, at least that was her official\ndesignation. She had been many years at Roager with Peter Nielsen, and\nwas believed to manage him as well as the cattle and pigs and poultry of\nthe glebe. From behind her peered a shock-headed boy of about eight\nyears with a very dirty face and cunning eyes.\n\nThe Canon stood and looked at the woman, then at the children, and the\nwoman and children stood and looked at him.\n\n\"Is this the house of the priest, Peter Nielsen?\" he asked.\n\n\"Certainly, do you want him?\" inquired the housekeeper.\n\n\"I have come from Ribe to see him on diocesan business.\"\n\n\"Step inside,\" said the housekeeper curtly. \"His reverence is not in the\nhouse at this moment, he is in the church saying his offices.\"\n\n\"That's lies!\" shouted the dirty boy from behind. \"Dada is in the\npigstye setting a trap for the rats.\"\n\n\"Hold your tongue, Jens!\" exclaimed the woman, giving the boy a cuff\nwhich knocked him over. Then to the Canon she said, \"Take a seat and I\nwill go to the church after him.\"\n\nShe went out with the two smaller children staggering at her skirts,\ntumbling, picking themselves up, going head over heels, crowing and\nsquealing.\n\nWhen she was outside the house, the dirty boy sat upright on the floor,\nwinked at the Canon, crooked his fingers, and said, \"Follow me, and I\nwill show you Dada.\"\n\nThe bald-headed ecclesiastic rose, and guided by the boy went into a\nback room, through a small window in which he saw into the pig-styes,\nand there, without his coat, in a pair of stained and patched breeches,\nand a blue worsted night-cap, over ankles in filth, was the parish\npriest engaged in setting a rat-trap. Outside, in the yard, the pigs\nwere enjoying their freedom. Leisurely round the corner came the\nhousekeeper with the satellites. \"There, Peers!\" said she, \"There is a\nreverend gentleman from the cathedral come after thee.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the pastor, slowly rising, \"do thou, Maren, keep out of\nsight, and especially be careful not to produce the brats. Their\npresence opens the door to misconstruction.\"\n\nThe Canon stole back to his seat, mopped his brow and head, and thought\nto himself that the Chapter had put the selection of a chief pastor into\nvery queer hands. The nasty little boy began to giggle and snuffle\nsimultaneously. \"Have you seen Dada? Dada saying his prayers in there.\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" asked the ecclesiastic stiffly of the child.\n\n\"I'm Jens,\" answered the boy.\n\n\"I know you are Jens, I heard your mother call you so. I presume that\nperson is your mother.\"\n\n\"That is my mother, but Dada is not my dada.\"\n\n\"O, Jens, boy, Jens! Truth above all things. Magna est veritas et\npr\u00e6valebit.\" The Reverend Peter Nielsen entered, clean, in a cassock,\nand with a shovel hat on his head.\n\n\"The children whom you have seen,\" said Peter Nielsen, \"are the nephews\nand nieces of my worthy housekeeper, Maria Grubbe. She is a charitable\nwoman, and as her sister is very poor, and has a large family, my Maren,\nI mean my housekeeper, takes charge of some of the overflow.\"[15]\n\n\"It is a great burden to you,\" said the Canon.\n\nPeter Nielsen shrugged his shoulders. \"To clothe the naked and give\nfood to the hungry are deeds of mercy.\"\n\n\"I quite understand, quite,\" said the Canon.\n\n\"I only mentioned it,\" continued the parish priest, \"lest you should\nsuppose--\"\n\n\"I quite understand,\" said the Canon, interrupting him, with a bow and a\nbenignant smile.\n\n\"And now,\" said Peter Nielsen, \"I am at your service.\"\n\nThereupon the Canon unfolded to his astonished hearer the nature of his\nmission. The pastor sat listening attentively with his head bowed, and\nhis hands planted on his knees. Then, when his visitor had done\nspeaking, he thrust his left hand into his trouser pocket and produced a\npalmful of carraway seed. He put some into his mouth, and began to chew\nit; whereupon the whole room became scented with carraway.\n\n\"I am fond of this seed,\" said the priest composedly, whilst he turned\nover the grains in his hand with the five fingers of his right. \"It is\ngood for the stomach, and it clears the brain. So I understand that\nthere are three parties?\"\n\n\"Exactly, there is that of Olaf Petersen, a narrow, uncompromising man,\nvery sharp on the morals of the clergy; there is also that of the Dean,\nThomas Lange, an ambitious and scheming ecclesiastic; and there is\nlastly that of the Archdeacon Hartwig Juel, one of the most amiable men\nin the world.\"\n\n\"And you incline strongly to the latter?\"\n\n\"I do--how could you discover that? Juel is not a man to forget a friend\nwho has done him a favour.\"\n\n\"Now, see!\" exclaimed Peter Nielsen, \"See the advantage of chewing\ncarraway seed. Three minutes ago I knew or recollected nothing about\nHartwig Juel, but I do now remember that five years ago he passed\nthrough Roager, and did me the honour of partaking of such poor\nhospitality as I was able to give. I supplied him and his four\nattendants, and six horses, with refreshment. Bless my soul! the\nefficacy of carraway is prodigious! I can now recall all that took\nplace. I recollect that I had only hogs' puddings to offer the\nArchdeacon, his chaplain, and servants, and they ate up all I had. I\nremember also that I had a little barrel of ale which I broached for\nthem, and they drank the whole dry. To be sure!--I had a bin of oats,\nand the horses consumed every grain! I know that the Archdeacon\nregretted that I had no bell to my church, and that he promised to send\nme one. He also assured me he would not leave a stone unturned till he\nhad secured for me a better and more lucrative cure. I even sent a side\nof bacon away with him as a present--but nothing came of the promises. I\nought to have given him a bushel of carraway. You really have no notion\nof the poverty of this living. I cannot now offer you any other food\nthan buck-wheat brose, as I have no meat in the house. I can only give\nyou water to drink as I am without beer. I cannot even furnish you with\nbutter and milk, as I have not a cow.\"\n\n\"Not even a cow!\" exclaimed the Canon. \"I really am thankful for your\nhaving spoken so plainly to me. I had no conception that your cure was\nso poor. That the Archdeacon should not have fulfilled the promises he\nmade you is due to forgetfulness. Indeed, I assure you, for the last\nfive years I have repeatedly seen Hartwig Juel strike his brow and\nexclaim, 'Something troubles me. I have made a promise, and cannot\nrecall it. This lies on my conscience, and I shall have no peace till I\nrecollect and discharge it.' This is plain fact.\"\n\n\"Take him a handful of carraway,\" urged the parish priest.\n\n\"No--he will remember all when I speak to him, unaided by carraway.\"\n\n\"There is one thing I can offer you,\" said Peter Nielsen, \"a mug of\ndill-water.\"\n\n\"Dill-water! what is that?\"\n\n\"It is made from carraway. It is given to infants to enable them to\nretain their milk. It is good for adults to make them recollect their\npromises.\"\n\n\"My dear good friend,\" said the Canon rising, \"your requirements shall\nbe complied with to-morrow. I see you have excellent pasture here for\nsheep. Have you any?\"\n\nThe parish priest shook his head.\n\n\"That is a pity. That however can be rectified. Good-bye, rely on me.\n_Qui pacem habet, se primum pacat._\"\n\nWhen the Canon was gone, Peter Nielsen, who had attended him to the\ndoor, turned, and found Maren Grubbe behind him.\n\n\"I say, Peers!\" spoke the housekeeper, nudging him, \"What is the meaning\nof all this? What was that Latin he said as he went away?\"\n\n\"My dear, good Maren,\" answered the priest, \"he quoted a saying\nfamiliar to us clergy. At the altar is a little metal plate with a cross\non it, and this is called the Pax, or Peace. During the mass the priest\nkisses it, and then hands it to his assistant, who kisses it in turn and\npasses it on so throughout the attendance. The Latin means this, 'Let\nhim who has the Pax bless himself with it before giving it out of his\nhands,' and means nothing more than this: 'Charity begins at Home,'\nor--put more boldly still, 'Look out for Number I.'\"\n\n\"Now, see here,\" said the housekeeper, \"you have been too moderate,\nPeers, you have not looked out sufficiently for Number I. Leave the next\ncomer to me. No doubt that the Dean will send to you, in like manner as\nthe Archdeacon sent to-day.\"\n\n\"As you like, Maren, but keep the children in the background. Charity\nthat thinketh no ill, is an uncommon virtue.\"\n\nNext morning early there arrived at the parsonage a waggon laden with\nsides of bacon, smoked beef, a hogshead of prime ale, a barrel of\nclaret, and several sacks of wheat. It had scarcely been unloaded when a\ncouple of milch cows arrived; half an hour later came a drove of sheep.\nPeter Nielsen disposed of everything satisfactorily about the house and\nglebe. His eye twinkled, he rubbed his hands, and said to himself with a\nchuckle, \"He who blesses, blesses first himself.\"\n\nIn the course of the morning a rider drew up at the house door. Maren\nflattened her nose at the little window of the guest-room, and\nscrutinized the arrival before admitting him. Then she nodded her head,\nand whispered to the priest to disappear. A moment later she opened the\ndoor, and ushered a stout red-faced ecclesiastic into the room.\n\n\"Is the Reverend Pastor at home?\" he asked, bowing to Maren Grubbe; \"I\nhave come to see him on important business.\"\n\n\"He is at the present moment engaged with a sick parishioner. He will be\nhere in a quarter of an hour. He left word before going out, that should\nyour reverence arrive before his return--\"\n\n\"What! I was expected!\"\n\n\"The venerable the Archdeacon sent a deputation to see my master\nyesterday, and he thought it probable that a deputation from the very\nReverend the Dean would arrive to-day.\"\n\n\"Indeed! So Hartwig Juel has stolen a march on us.\"\n\n\"Hartwig Juel had on a visit some little while ago made promises to my\nmaster of a couple of cows, a herd of sheep, some ale, wine, wheat, and\nso on, and he took advantage of the occasion to send all these things to\nus.\"\n\n\"Indeed! Hartwig Juel's practice is sharp.\"\n\n\"Thomas Lange will make up no doubt for dilatoriness.\"\n\n\"Humph! and Olaf Petersen, has he sent?\"\n\n\"His deputation will, doubtless, come to-morrow, or even this\nafternoon.\"\n\nThe Canon folded his hands over his ample paunch, and looked hard at\nMaren Grubbe. She was attired in her best. Her cheeks shone like\nquarendon apples, as red and glossy; full of health--with a threat of\ntemper, just as a hot sky has in it indications of a tempest. Her eyes\nwere dark as sloes, and looked as sharp. She was past middle age, but\nripe and strong; for all that.\n\nThe fat Canon sat looking at her, twirling his thumbs like a little\nwindmill, over his paunch, without speaking. She also sat demurely with\nher hands flat on her knees, and looked him full and firm in the face.\n\n\"I have been thinking,\" said the Canon, \"how well a set of silver chains\nwould look about that neck, and pendant over that ample bosom.\"\n\n\"Gold would look better,\" said Maren, and shut her mouth again.\n\n\"And a crimson silk kerchief--\"\n\n\"Would do,\" interrupted the housekeeper, \"for one who has not\nexpectations of a crimson silk skirt.\"\n\n\"Quite so.\" A pause, and the windmills recommenced working. Presently\nsqueals were heard in the back premises. One of the children had fallen\nand hurt itself.\n\n\"Cats?\" asked the Canon.\n\n\"Cats,\" answered Maren.\n\n\"Quite so,\" said the Canon. \"I am fond of cats.'\n\n\"So am I,\" said Maren.\n\nThen ensued an uproar. The door burst open, and in tumbled little Jens\nwith one child in his arms, the other clinging to the seat of his\npantaloons. These same articles of clothing had belonged to the Reverend\nPeter Nielsen, till worn out, when at the request of Maren, they had\nbeen given to her and cut down in length for Jens. In length they\nanswered. The waistband was under the arms, indeed, but the legs were\nnot too long. In breadth and capacity they were uncurtailed.\n\n\"I cannot manage them, mother,\" said the boy. \"It is of no use making me\nnurse. Besides, I want to see the stranger.\"\n\n\"These children,\" said Maren, looking firmly in the face of the Canon,\n\"call me mother, but they are the offspring of my sister, whose husband\nwas lost last winter at sea. Poor thing, she was left with fourteen, and\nI--\"\n\nShe put her apron to her eyes and wept.\n\n\"O, noble charity!\" said the fat priest enthusiastically. \"You--I see it\nall--you took charge of the little orphans. You sacrifice your savings\nfor them, your time is given to them. Emotion overcomes me. What is\ntheir name?\"\n\n\"Katts.\"\n\n\"Cats?\"\n\n\"John Katts, and little Kristine and Sissely Katts.\"\n\n\"And the worthy pastor assists in supporting these poor orphans?\"\n\n\"Yes, in spite of his poverty. And now we are on this point, let me ask\nyou if you have not been struck with the meanness of this parsonage\nhouse. I can assure you, there is not a decent room in it, upstairs the\nchambers are open to the rafters, unceiled.\"\n\n\"My worthy woman,\" said the Canon, \"I will see to this myself. Rely upon\nit, if the Dean becomes Bishop, he will see that the manses of his best\nclergy are put into thorough repair.\"\n\n\"I should prefer to see the repairs begun at once,\" said Maren. \"When\nthe Dean becomes Bishop he will have so much to think about, that he\nmight forget our parsonage house.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said the visitor, as he rose, \"they shall be executed at once.\nWhen I see the charity shown in this humble dwelling, by pastor and\nhousekeeper alike, I feel that it demands instantaneous acknowledgment.\"\n\nThen in came Peter Nielsen, and said, \"I have not sufficient\ncattle-sheds. Sheep yards are also needed.\"\n\n\"They shall be erected.\"\n\nThen the Canon caught up little Kirsten and little Sissel, and kissed\ntheir dirty faces. Maren's radiant countenance assured the Canon that\nthe cause of Thomas Lange was won with Maren Grubbe.\n\nHe took the parish priest by the hand, pressed it, and said in a low\ntone, \"_Qui pacem habet, se primum pacat_. You understand me?\"\n\n\"Perfectly,\" answered Peter Nielsen, with a smile.\n\nNext morning early there arrived at Roager a party of masons from Ribe,\nready to pull down the old parsonage and build one more commodious and\nextensive. The pastor went over the plans with the master mason,\nsuggested alterations and enlargements, and then, with a chuckle, he\nmuttered to himself, \"That is an excellent saying, _Qui pacem habet, se\nprimum pacat_.\" Then looking up, he saw before him an ascetic,\nhollow-eyed, pale-faced priest.\n\n\"I am Olaf Petersen,\" said the new comer. \"I thought best to come over\nand see you myself; I think the true condition of the Church ought to be\nset before you, and that you should consider the spiritual welfare of\nthe poor sheep in the Ribe fold, and give them a chief pastor who will\ncare for the sheep and not for the wool.\"\n\n\"I have got a flock of sheep already,\" said Peter Nielsen, coldly.\n\"Hartwig Juel sent it me.\"\n\n\"I think,\" continued Olaf, \"that you should consider the edification of\nthe spiritual building.\"\n\n\"I am going to have a new parsonage erected,\" said Peter Nielsen,\nstiffly; \"Thomas Lange has seen to that.\"\n\n\"The Bishop needed for this diocese,\" Olaf Petersen went on, \"should\ncombine the harmlessness of the dove with the wisdom of the serpent.\"\n\n\"If he does that,\" said Nielsen, roughly, \"he will be half knave and\nhalf fool. Let us have the wisdom, that is what we want now; and one of\nthe first maxims of wisdom in Church and State is, _Qui pacem habet, se\nprimum pacat_. You take me?\"\n\nOlaf sighed, and shook his head.\n\n\"Do you see this plan,\" said Peter Nielsen. \"I am going to have a byre\nfashioned on that, with room for a dozen oxen. I have but two cows;\nstables for two horses, I have not one; a waggon shed, I am without a\nwheeled conveyance. I shall have new rooms, and have no furniture to put\nin them. Now, to stock and furnish farm and parsonage will cost much\nmoney. I have not a hundred shillings in the world. What am I to do? The\nman who would be Bishop of Ribe should consider the welfare of one of\nthe most influential, learned, and moral of the priests in the diocese,\nand do what he can to make him comfortable. Before we choose a cow we go\nover her, feel her, examine her parts; before we purchase a horse we\nlook at the teeth and explore the hoofs, and try the wind. When we\nselect a bishop we naturally try the stuff of which he is made, if\nliberal, generous, open-handed, amiable. You understand me?\"\n\nOlaf sighed, and drops of cold perspiration stood on his brow. A contest\nwas going on within. Simony was a mortal sin. Was there a savour of\nsimony in offering a present to the man in whose hands the choice of a\nchief pastor lay? He feared so. But then--did not the end sometimes\njustify the means? As these questions rose in his mind and refused to be\nanswered, something heavy fell at his feet. His hand had been plucking\nat his purse, and in his nervousness he had detached it from his girdle,\nand had let it slip through his fingers. He did not look down. He seemed\nnot to notice his loss, but he moved away without another word, with\nbent head and troubled conscience. When he was gone, Peter Nielsen bowed\nhimself, picked up the pouch, counted the gold coins in it, laughed,\nrubbed his hands, and said, \"He who blesses, blesses first himself.\"\n\nNext day a litter stayed at the parsonage gate, and out of it, with\ngreat difficulty, supported on the arms of two servants, came the aged\nJep Mundelstrup. He entered the guest-room and was accommodated with a\nseat. When he got his breath, he said, extending a roll of parchment to\nthe incumbent of Roager, \"You will not fail to remember that it was at\n_my_ suggestion that the choice of a bishop was left with you. You are\ndeeply indebted to me. But for me you would not have been visited and\ncanvassed by the Dean, the Arch-deacon, and the Ascetic, either in\nperson or by their representatives. You will please to remember that I\nwas nominated, but seeing so many others proposed, I withdrew my name. I\nthink you will allow that this exhibited great humility and shrinking\nfrom honour. In these worldly, self-seeking days such an example\ndeserves notice and reward. I am old, and perhaps unequal to the labours\nof office, but I think I ought to be considered; although I did formally\nwithdraw my candidature, I am not sure that I would refuse the mitre\nwere it pressed on me. At all events it would be a compliment to offer\nit me and I might refuse it. _Qui pacem habet, se primum pacat._ You\nwill not regret the return courtesy.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBoom! Boom! Boom! The cathedral bell was summoning all Ribe to the\nminster to be present at the nomination of its bishop. All Ribe answered\nthe summons.\n\nThe cathedral stands on a hill called the Mount of Lilies, but the mount\nis of so slight an elevation that it does not protect the cathedral from\noverflow, and a spring tide with N.W. wind has been known to flood both\ntown and minster and leave fishes on the sacred floor. The church is\nbuilt of granite, brick and sandstone; originally the contrast may have\nbeen striking, but weather has smudged the colours together into an ugly\nbrown-grey. The tower is lofty, narrow, and wanting a spire. It\nresembles a square ruler set up on end; it is too tall for its base. The\nchurch is stately, of early architecture with transepts, and the choir\nat their intersection with the nave, domed over, and a small\nsemi-circular apse beyond, for the altar. The nave was crowded, the\ncanons occupied the stalls in their purple tippets edged with crimson;\npurple, because the chapter of a cathedral; crimson edged, because the\nfounder of the See was a martyr. Fifteen, and the Dean, sixteen in all,\nwere in their places. On the altar steps, in the apse, in the centre,\nsat Peter Nielsen in his old, worn cassock, without surplice. On the\nleft side of the altar stood the richly-sculptured Episcopal throne, and\non the seat was placed the jewelled mitre, over the arm the cloth of\ngold cope was cast, and against the back leaned the pastoral crook of\nsilver gilt, encrusted with precious stones.\n\nWhen the last note of the bell sounded, the Dean rose from his stall,\nand stepping up to the apse, made oath before heaven, the whole\ncongregation and Peter Nielsen, that he was prepared to abide by the\ndecision of this said Peter, son of Nicolas, parish priest of Roager.\nAmen. He was followed by the Archdeacon, then by each of the canons to\nthe last.\n\nThen mass was said, during which the man in whose hands the fortunes of\nthe See reposed, knelt with unimpassioned countenance and folded hands.\n\nAt the conclusion he resumed his seat, the crucifix was brought forth\nand he kissed it.\n\nA moment of anxious silence. The moment for the decision had arrived. He\nremained for a short while seated, with his eyes fixed on the ground,\nthen he turned them on the anxious face of the Dean, and after having\nallowed them to rest scrutinisingly there for a minute, he looked at\nHartwig Juel, then at Olaf Petersen, who was deadly white, and whose\nframe shook like an aspen leaf. Then he looked long at Jep Mundelstrup\nand rose suddenly to his feet.\n\nThe fall of a pin might have been heard in the cathedral at that moment.\n\nHe said--and his voice was distinctly audible by every one present--\"I\nhave been summoned here from my barren heath, into this city, out of a\npoor hamlet, by these worthy and reverend fathers, to choose for them a\nprelate who shall be at once careful of the temporal and the spiritual\nwelfare of the See. I have scrupulously considered the merits of all\nthose who have been presented to me as candidates for the mitre. I find\nthat in only one man are all the requisite qualities combined in proper\nproportion and degree--not in Thomas Lange,\" the Dean's head fell on his\nbosom, \"nor in Hartwig Juel,\" the Archdeacon sank back in his stall;\n\"nor in Olaf Petersen,\" the man designated uttered a faint cry and\ndropped on his knees, \"nor in Jep Mundelstrup--but in myself. I\ntherefore nominate Peter, son of Nicolas, commonly called Nielsen,\nCurate of Roager, to be Bishop of Ribe, twenty-ninth in descent from\nLiafdag the martyr. _Qui pacem habet, se primum pacat._ Amen. He who has\nto bless, blesses first himself.\"\n\nThen he sat down.\n\nFor a moment there was silence, and then a storm broke loose. Peter sat\nmotionless, with his eyes fixed on the ground, motionless as a rock\nround which the waves toss and tear themselves to foam.\n\nThus it came about that the twenty-ninth bishop of Ribe was Peter\nNielsen.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[15] In Norway, Denmark, Sweden, and Iceland, clerical celibacy was\nnever enforced before the Reformation. Now and then a formal prohibition\nwas issued by the bishops, but it was generally ignored. The clergy were\nmarried, openly and undisguisedly.\n\n\n\n\nThe Wonder-Working Prince Hohenlohe.\n\n\nIn the year 1821, much interest was excited in Germany and, indeed,\nthroughout Europe by the report that miracles of healing were being\nwrought by Prince Leopold Alexander of\nHohenlohe-Waldenburg-Schillingsf\u00fcrst at W\u00fcrzburg, Bamberg, and\nelsewhere. The wonders soon came to an end, for, after the ensuing year,\nno more was heard of his extraordinary powers.\n\nAt the time, as might be expected, his claims to be a miracle-worker\nwere hotly disputed, and as hotly asserted. Evidence was produced that\nsome of his miracles were genuine; counter evidence was brought forward\nreducing them to nothing.\n\nThe whole story of Prince Hohenlohe's sudden blaze into fame, and speedy\nextinction, is both curious and instructive. In the Baden village of\nWittighausen, at the beginning of this century, lived a peasant named\nMartin Michel, owning a farm, and in fairly prosperous circumstances.\nHis age, according to one authority, was fifty, according to another\nsixty-seven, when he became acquainted with Prince Hohenlohe. This\npeasant was unquestionably a devout, guileless man. He had been\nafflicted in youth with a rupture, but, in answer to continuous and\nearnest prayer, he asserted that he had been completely healed. Then,\nfor some while he prayed over other afflicted persons, and it was\nrumoured that he had effected several miraculous cures. He emphatically\nand earnestly repudiated every claim to superior sanctity. The cures, he\ndeclared, depended on the faith of the patient, and on the power of the\nAlmighty. The most solemn promises had been made in the gospel to those\nwho asked in faith, and all he did was to act upon these evangelical\npromises.\n\nThe Government speedily interfered, and Michel was forbidden by the\npolice to work any more miracles by prayer or faith, or any other means\nexcept the recognised pharmacopoeia.\n\nHe had received no payment for his cures in money or in kind, but he\ntook occasion through them to impress on his patients the duty of\nprayer, and the efficacy of faith.\n\nBy some means he met Prince Alexander Hohenlohe, and the prince was\ninterested and excited by what he heard, and by the apparent sincerity\nof the man. A few days later the prince was in W\u00fcrzburg, where he called\non the Princess Mathilde Schwarzenberg, a young girl of seventeen who\nwas a cripple, and who had already spent a year and a half at W\u00fcrzburg,\nunder the hands of the orthop\u00e6dic physician Heine, and the surgeon\nTextor. She had been to the best medical men in Vienna and Paris, and\nthe case had been given up as hopeless. Then Prince Schwarzenberg placed\nher under the treatment of Heine. She was so contracted, with her knees\ndrawn up to her body, that she could neither stand nor walk.\n\nPrince Hohenlohe first met her at dinner, on June 18, 1821, and the\nsight of her distortion filled him with pity. He thought over her case,\nand communicated with Michel, who at his summons came to W\u00fcrzburg. As\nW\u00fcrzburg is in Bavaria, the orders of the Baden Government did not\nextend to it, and the peasant might freely conduct his experiments\nthere.\n\nPrince Alexander called on the Princess at ten o'clock in the morning of\nJune 20, taking with him Michel, but leaving him outside the house, in\nthe court. Then Prince Hohenlohe began to speak to the suffering girl of\nthe power of faith, and mentioned the wonders wrought by the prayers of\nMichel. She became interested, and the Prince asked her if she would\nlike to put the powers of Michel to the test, warning her that the man\ncould do nothing unless she had full and perfect belief in the mercy of\nGod. The Princess expressed her eagerness to try the new remedy and\nassured her interrogator that she had the requisite faith. Thereupon he\nwent to the window, and signed to the peasant to come up.\n\nWhat follows shall be given in the Princess's own words, from her\naccount written a day or two later:--\"The peasant knelt down and prayed\nin German aloud and distinctly, and, after his prayer, he said to me,\n'In the Name of Jesus, stand up. You are whole, and can both stand and\nwalk!' The peasant and the Prince then went into an adjoining room, and\nI rose from my couch, without assistance, in the name of God, well and\nsound, and so I have continued to this moment.\"\n\nA much fuller and minuter account of the proceedings was published,\nprobably from the pen of the governess, who was present at the time;\nbut as it is anonymous we need not concern ourselves with it.\n\nThe news of the miraculous recovery spread through the town; Dr. Heine\nheard of it, and ran to the house, and stood silent and amazed at what\nhe saw. The Princess descended the stone staircase towards the garden,\nbut hesitated, and, instead of going into the garden, returned upstairs,\nleaning on the arm of Prince Hohenlohe.\n\nNext day was Corpus Christi. The excitement in the town was immense,\nwhen the poor cripple, who had been seen for more than a year carried\ninto her carriage and carried out of it into church, walked to church,\nand thence strolled into the gardens of the palace.\n\nOn the following day she visited the Julius Hospital, a noble\ninstitution founded by one of the bishops of W\u00fcrzburg. On the 24th she\ncalled on the Princess Lichtenstein, the Duke of Aremberg, and the\nPrince of Baar, and moreover, attended a sermon preached by Prince\nHohenlohe in the Haugh parish church. Her recovery was complete.\n\nNow, at first sight, nothing seems more satisfactorily established than\nthis miracle. Let us, however, see what Dr. Heine, who had attended her\nfor nineteen months, had to say on it. We cannot quote his account in\nits entirety, as it is long, but we will take the principal points in\nit:--\"The Princess of Schwarzenberg came under my treatment at the end\nof October, 1819, afflicted with several abnormities of the thorax, with\na twisted spine, ribs, &c. Moreover, she could not rise to her feet from\na sitting posture, nor endure to be so raised; but this was not in\nconsequence of malformation or weakness of the system, for when sitting\nor lying down she could freely move her limbs. She complained of acute\npain when placed in any other position, and when she was made to assume\nan angle of 100\u00b0 her agony became so intense that her extremities were\nin a nervous quiver, and partial paralysis ensued, which, however,\nceased when she was restored to her habitual contracted position.\n\n\"The Princess lost her power of locomotion when she was three years old,\nand the contraction was the result of abscesses on the loins. She was\ntaken to France and Italy, and got so far in Paris as to be able to hop\nabout a room supported on crutches. But she suffered a relapse on her\nreturn to Vienna in 1813, and thenceforth was able neither to stand nor\nto move about. She was placed in my hands, and I contrived an apparatus\nby which the angle at which she rested was gradually extended, and her\nposition gradually changed from horizontal to vertical. At the same time\nI manipulated her almost daily, and had the satisfaction by the end of\nlast April to see her occupy an angle of 50\u00b0, without complaining of\nsuffering. By the close of May further advance was made, and she was\nable to assume a vertical position, with her feet resting on the ground,\nbut with her body supported, and to remain in this position for four or\nfive hours. Moreover, in this situation I made her go through all the\nmotions of walking. The extremities had, in every position, retained\ntheir natural muscular powers and movements, and the contraction was\nsimply a nervous affection. I made no attempt to force her to walk\nunsupported, because I would not do this till I was well assured such a\ntrial would not be injurious to her.\n\n\"On the 30th of May I revisited her, after having been unable, on\naccount of a slight indisposition, to see my patients for several days.\nHer governess then told me that the Princess had made great progress.\nShe lay at an angle of 80\u00b0. The governess placed herself at the foot of\nthe couch, held out her hands to the Princess, and drew her up into an\nupright position, and she told me that this had been done several times\nof late during my enforced absence. Whilst she was thus standing I made\nthe Princess raise and depress her feet, and go through all the motions\nof walking. Immediately on my return home I set to work to construct a\nmachine which might enable her to walk without risk of a fall and of\nhurting herself. On the 19th of June, in the evening, I told the\nPrincess that the apparatus was nearly finished. Next day, a little\nafter 10 A.M., I visited her. When I opened her door she rose up from a\nchair in which she was seated, and came towards me with short, somewhat\nuncertain steps. I bowed myself, in token of joy and thanks to God.\n\n\"At that moment a gentleman I had never seen before entered the room and\nexclaimed, 'Mathilde! you have had faith in God!' The Princess replied,\n'I have had, and I have now, entire faith.' The gentleman said, 'Your\nfaith has saved and healed you. God has succoured you.' Then I began to\nsuspect that some strange influence was at work, and that something had\nbeen going on of which I was not cognizant. I asked the gentleman what\nwas the meaning of this. He raised his right hand to heaven, and replied\nthat he had prayed and thought of the Princess that morning at mass, and\nthat Prince Wallerstein was privy to the whole proceeding. I was puzzled\nand amazed. Then I asked the Princess to walk again. She did so, and\nshortly after I left, and only then did I learn that the stranger was\nthe Prince of Hohenlohe.\n\n\"Next month, on July 21, her aunt, the Princess Eleanor of\nSchwarzenberg, came with three of the sisters of Princess Mathilde to\nfetch her away and to take her back to her father. Her Highness did me\nthe honour of visiting me along with the Princesses on the second day\nafter their arrival, to thank me for the pains I had taken to cure the\nPrincess Mathilde. Before they left, Dr. Sch\u00e4fer, who had attended her\nat Ratisbon, Herr Textor, and myself were allowed to examine the\nPrincess. Dr. Sch\u00e4fer found that the condition of the thorax was\nmightily improved since she had been in my hands. I, however, saw that\nher condition had retrograded since I had last seen her on June 20, and\nit was agreed that the Princess was to occupy her extension-couch at\nnight, and by day wear the steel apparatus for support I had contrived\nfor her. At the same time Dr. Sch\u00e4fer distinctly assured her and the\nPrincess, her aunt, that under my management the patient had recovered\nthe power of walking _before_ the 19th of June.\"\n\nThis account puts a different complexion on the cure, and shows that it\nwas not in any way miraculous. The Prince and the peasant stepped in\nand snatched the credit of having cured the Princess from the doctor, to\nwhom it rightly belonged.\n\nBefore we proceed, it will be well to say a few words about this Prince\nAlexander Hohenlohe. The Hohenlohe family takes its name from a bare\nelevated plateau in Franconia. About the beginning of the 16th century\nit broke into two branches; the elder is Hohenlohe-Neuenstein, the\nyounger is Hohenlohe-Waldenburg.\n\nThe elder branch has its sub-ramifications--Hohenlohe-Langenburg, which\npossesses also the county of Gleichen; and the Hohenlohe-Oehringen and\nthe Hohenlohe-Kirchberg sub-branches. The second main branch of\nHohenlohe-Waldenburg has also its lateral branches, as those of\nHohenlohe-Bartenstein and Hohenlohe-Schillingsf\u00fcrst; the last of these\nbeing Catholic.\n\nPrince Leopold Alexander was born in 1794 at Kupferzell, near\nWaldenburg, and was the eighteenth child of Prince Karl Albrecht and his\nwife Judith, Baroness Reviczky. His father never became reigning prince,\nfrom intellectual incapacity, and Alexander lost him when he was one\nyear old. He was educated for the Church by the ex-Jesuit Riel, and went\nto school first in Vienna, then at Berne; in 1810 he entered the\nEpiscopal seminary at Vienna, and finished his theological studies at\nEllwangen in 1814. He was ordained priest in 1816, and went to Rome.\n\nDr. Wolff, the father of Sir Henry Drummond Wolff, in his \"Travels and\nAdventures,\" which is really his autobiography, says (vol i. p. 31):--\n\n\"Wolff left the house of Count Stolberg on the 3rd April, 1815, and\nwent to Ellwangen, and there met again an old pupil from Vienna, Prince\nAlexander Hohenlohe-Schillingsf\u00fcrst, afterwards so celebrated for his\nmiracles--to which so many men of the highest rank and intelligence have\nborne witness that Wolff dares not give a decided opinion about them.\nBut Niebuhr relates that the Pope said to him himself, speaking about\nHohenlohe in a sneering manner, '_Questo_ far dei miracoli!' _This_\nfellow performing miracles!\n\n\"It may be best to offer some slight sketch of Hohenlohe's life. His\nperson was beautiful. He was placed under the direction of Vock, the\nRoman Catholic parish priest at Berne. One Sunday he was invited to\ndinner with Vock, his tutor, at the Spanish ambassador's. The next day\nthere was a great noise in the Spanish embassy, because the mass-robe,\nwith the silver chalice and all its appurtenances, had been stolen. It\nwas advertised in the paper, but nothing could be discovered, until Vock\ntook Prince Hohenlohe aside, and said to him, 'Prince, confess to me;\nhave you not stolen the mass-robe?' He at once confessed it, and said\nthat he made use of it every morning in practising the celebration of\nthe mass in his room; which was true.\" (This was when Hohenlohe was\ntwenty-one years old.) \"He was afterwards sent to Tyrnau, to the\necclesiastical seminary in Hungary, whence he was expelled, on account\nof levity. But, being a Prince, the Chapter of Olm\u00fctz, in Moravia,\nelected him titulary canon of the cathedral; nevertheless, the Emperor\nFrancis was too honest to confirm it. Wolff taught him Hebrew in\nVienna. He had but little talent for languages, but his conversation on\nreligion was sometimes very charming; and at other times he broke out\ninto most indecent discourses. He was ordained priest, and Sailer[16]\npreached a sermon on the day of his ordination, which was published\nunder the title of 'The Priest without Reproach.' On the same day money\nwas collected for building a Roman Catholic Church at Z\u00fcrich, and the\nmoney collected was given to Prince Hohenlohe, to be remitted to the\nparish priest of Z\u00fcrich (Moritz Mayer); but the money never reached its\ndestination. Wolff saw him once at the bed of the sick and dying, and\nhis discourse, exhortations, and treatment of these sick people were\nwonderfully beautiful. When he mounted the pulpit to preach, one\nimagined one saw a saint of the Middle Ages. His devotion was\npenetrating, and commanded silence in a church where there were 4,000\npeople collected. Wolff one day called on him, when Hohenlohe said to\nhim, 'I never read any other book than the Bible. I never look in a\nsermon-book by anybody else, not even at the sermons of Sailer.' But\nWolff after this heard him preach, and the whole sermon was copied from\none of Sailer's, which Wolff had read only the day before.\n\n\"With all his faults, Hohenlohe cannot be charged with avarice, for he\ngive away every farthing he got, perhaps even that which he obtained\ndishonestly. They afterwards met at Rome, where Hohenlohe lodged with\nthe Jesuits, and there it was said he composed a Latin poem. Wolff,\nknowing his incapacity to do such a thing, asked him boldly, 'Who is the\nauthor of this poem?' Hohenlohe confessed at once that it was written by\na Jesuit priest. At that time Madame Schlegel wrote to Wolff: 'Prince\nHohenlohe is a man who struggles with heaven and hell, and heaven will\ngain the victory with him.' Hohenlohe was on the point of being made a\nbishop at Rome, but, on the strength of his previous knowledge of him,\nWolff protested against his consecration. Several princes, amongst them\nKaunitz, the ambassador, took Hohenlohe's part on this occasion; but the\nmatter was investigated, and Hohenlohe walked off from Rome without\nbeing made a bishop. In his protest against the man, Wolff stated that\nHohenlohe's pretensions to being a canon of Olm\u00fctz were false; that he\nhad been expelled the seminary of Tyrnau; that he sometimes spoke like a\nsaint, and at others like a profligate.\"\n\nAnd now let us return to W\u00fcrzburg, and see the result of the cure of\nPrincess Schwarzenberg. The people who had seen the poor cripple one day\ncarried into her carriage and into church, and a day or two after saw\nher walk to church and in the gardens, and who knew nothing of Dr.\nHeine's operations, concluded that this was a miracle, and gave the\ncredit of it quite as much to Prince Hohenlohe as to the peasant Michel.\n\nThe police at once sent an official letter to the Prince, requesting to\nbe informed authoritatively what he had done, by what right he had\ninterfered, and how he had acted. He replied that he had done nothing,\nfaith and the Almighty had wrought the miracle. \"The instantaneous cure\nof the Princess is a _fact_, which cannot be disputed; it was the result\nof a living faith. That is the truth. It happened to the Princess\naccording to her faith.\" The peasant Michel now fell into the\nbackground, and was forgotten, and the Prince stood forward as the\nworker of miraculous cures. Immense excitement was caused by the\nrestoration of the Princess Schwarzenberg, and patients streamed into\nW\u00fcrzburg from all the country round, seeking health at the hands of\nPrince Alexander. The local papers published marvellous details of his\nsuccessful cures. The blind saw, the lame walked, the deaf heard. Among\nthe deaf who recovered was His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of\nBavaria, three years later King Ludwig I., grandfather of the late King\nof Bavaria. Unfortunately we have not exact details of this cure, but a\nletter of the Crown Prince written shortly after merely states that he\nheard _better_ than before. Now the spring of 1821 was very raw and wet,\nand about June 20 there set in some dry hot weather. It is therefore\nquite possible that the change of weather may have had to do with this\ncure. However, we can say nothing for certain about it, as no data were\npublished, merely the announcement that the Crown Prince had recovered\nhis hearing at the prayer of Prince Hohenlohe. Here are some\nbetter-authenticated cases, as given by Herr Scharold, an eye-witness;\nhe was city councillor and secretary.\n\n\"The Prince had dined at midday with General von D----. All the\nentrances to the house from two streets were blocked by hundreds of\npersons, and they said that he had already healed four individuals\ncrippled with rheumatism in this house. I convinced myself on the spot\nthat one of these cases was as said. The patient was the young wife of a\nfisherman, who was crippled in the right hand, so that she could not\nlift anything with it, or use it in any way; and all at once she was\nenabled to raise a heavy chair, with the hand hitherto powerless, and\nhold it aloft. She went home weeping tears of joy and thankfulness.\n\n\"The Prince was then entreated to go to another house, at another end of\nthe town, and he consented. There he found many paralysed persons. He\nbegan with a poor man whose left arm was quite useless and stiff. After\nhe had asked him if he had perfect faith, and had received a\nsatisfactory answer, the Prince prayed with folded hands and closed\neyes. Then he raised the kneeling patient; and said, 'Move your arm.'\nWeeping and trembling in all his limbs the man did as he was bid; but as\nhe said that he obeyed with difficulty, the Prince prayed again, and\nsaid, 'Now move your arm again.' This time the man easily moved his arm\nforwards, backwards, and raised it. The cure was complete. Equally\nsuccessful was he with the next two cases. One was a tailor's wife,\nnamed Lanzamer. 'What do you want?' asked the Prince, who was bathed in\nperspiration. Answer: 'I have had a paralytic stroke, and have lost the\nuse of one side of my body, so that I cannot walk unsupported.' 'Kneel\ndown!' But this could only be effected with difficulty, and it was\nrather a tumbling down of an inert body, painful to behold. I never saw\na face more full of expression of faith in the strongly marked features.\nThe Prince, deeply moved, prayed with great fervour, and then said,\n'Stand up!' The good woman, much agitated, was unable to do so, in spite\nof all her efforts, without the assistance of her boy, who was by her,\ncrying, and then her lame leg seemed to crack. When she had reached her\nfeet, he said, 'Now walk the length of the room without pain.' She tried\nto do so, but succeeded with difficulty, yet with only a little\nsuffering. Again he prayed, and the healing was complete; she walked\nlightly and painlessly up and down, and finally out of the room; and the\nboy, crying more than before, but now with joy, exclaimed, 'O my God!\nmother can walk, mother can walk!' Whilst this was going on, an old\nwoman, called Siebert, wife of a bookbinder, who had been brought in a\nsedan-chair, was admitted to the room. She suffered from paralysis and\nincessant headaches that left her neither night nor day. The first\nattempt made to heal her failed. The second only brought on the paroxysm\nof headache worse than ever, so that the poor creature could hardly keep\nher feet or open her eyes. The Prince began to doubt her faith, but when\nshe assured him of it, he prayed again with redoubled earnestness. And,\nall at once, she was cured. This woman left the room, conducted by her\ndaughter, and all present were filled with astonishment.\" This account\nwas written on June 26. On June 28 Herr Scharold wrote a further account\nof other cures he had witnessed; but those already given are\nsufficient. That this witness was convinced and sincere appears from his\ndescription, but how far valuable his evidence is we are not so well\nassured.\n\nA curious little pamphlet was published the same year at Darmstadt,\nentitled, \"Das M\u00e4hrchen vom Wunder,\" that professed to be the result of\nthe observations of a medical man who attended one or two of these\n_s\u00e9ances_. Unfortunately the pamphlet is anonymous, and this deprives it\nof most of its authority. Another writer who attacked the genuineness of\nthe miracles was Dr. Paulus, in his \"Quintessenz aus den\nWundercurversuchen durch Michel und Hohenlohe,\" Leipzig, 1822; but this\nauthor also wrote anonymously, and did not profess to have seen any of\nthe cures. On the other hand, Scharold and a Dr. Onymus, and two or\nthree priests published their testimonies as witnesses to their\ngenuineness, and gave the names and particulars of those cured.\n\nThose who assailed the Prince and his cures dipped their pens in gall.\nIt is only just to add that they cast on his character none of the\nreflections for honesty which Dr. Wolff flung on him.\n\nThe author of the Darmstadt pamphlet, mentioned above, says that when he\nwas present the Prince was attended by two sergeants of police, as the\ncrowd thronging on him was so great that he needed protection from its\npressure. He speaks sneeringly of him as spending his time in eating,\nsmoking, and miracle-working, when not sleeping, and says he was plump\nand good-looking, \"A girl of eighteen, who was paralysed in her limbs,\nwas brought from a carriage to the feet of the prophet. After he had\nasked her if she believed, and he had prayed for about twelve seconds,\nhe exclaimed in a threatening rather than gentle voice, 'You are\nhealed!' But I observed that he had to thunder this thrice into the ear\nof the frightened girl, before she made an effort to move, which was\npainful and distressing; and, groaning and supported by others, she made\nher way to the rear. 'You will be better shortly--only believe!' he\ncried to her. I, who was looking on, observed her conveyed away as much\na cripple as she came.\n\n\"The next case was a peasant of fifty-eight, a cripple on crutches.\nWithout his crutches he was doubled up, and could only shuffle with his\nfeet on the ground. After the Prince had asked the usual questions and\nhad prayed, he ordered the kneeling man to stand up, his crutches having\nbeen removed. As he was unable to do so, the miracle-worker seemed\nirritated, and repeated his order in an angry tone. One of the policemen\nat the side threw in 'Up! in the name of the Trinity,' and pulled him to\nhis feet. The man seemed bewildered. He stood, indeed, but doubled as\nbefore, and the sweat streamed from his face, and he was not a ha'porth\nbetter than previously; but as he had come with crutches, and now stood\nwithout them, there arose a shout of 'A miracle!' and all pressed round\nto congratulate the poor wretch. His son helped him away. 'Have faith\nand courage!' cried to him the Prince; and the policeman added, 'Only\nbelieve, and rub in a little spirits of camphor!' Many pressed alms into\nthe man's hand, and he smiled; this was regarded as a token of his\nperfect cure. I saw, however, that his knees were as stiff as before,\nand that the rogue cast longing eyes at his crutches, which had been\ntaken away, but which he insisted on having back. No one thought of\nasking how it fared with the poor wretch later, and, as a fact, he died\nshortly after.\n\n\"The next to come up was a deaf girl of eighteen. The wonder-worker was\nbathed in perspiration, and evidently exhausted with his continuous\nprayer night and day. After a few questions as to the duration of her\ninfirmity, the Prince prayed, then signed a cross over the girl, and,\nstepping back from her, asked her questions, at each in succession\nsomewhat lowering his tone; but she only heard those spoken as loudly as\nbefore the experiment was made, and she remained for the most part\nstaring stupidly at the wonder-worker. To cut the matter short, he\ndeclared her healed. I took the mother aside soon after, and inquired\nwhat was the result. She assured me that the girl heard no better than\nbefore.\n\n\"In her place came a stone-deaf man of twenty-five. The result was very\nsimilar; but as the Prince, when bidding him depart healed, made a sign\nof withdrawal with his hand, the man rose and departed, and this was\ntaken as evidence that he had heard the command addressed to him.\"\n\nThe author gives other cases that he witnessed, not one of which was\nother than a failure, though they were all declared to be cures.\n\nOn June 29 the Prince practised his miracle-working at the palace, in\nthe presence of the Crown Prince and of Prince Esterhazy, the Austrian\nambassador who was on his way to London to attend the coronation of\nGeorge IV. in July. The attempts were probably as great failures as\nthose described in the Darmstadt pamphlet. The Prince was somewhat\ndiscouraged at the invitation of the physicians attached to the Julius\nHospital; he had visited that institution the day before, and had\nexperimented on twenty cases, and was unsuccessful in every one. Full\nparticulars of these were published in the \"Bamberger Briefe,\" Nos.\n28-33. We will give only a very few:--\n\n\"1. Barbara Uhlen, of Oberschleichach, aged 39, suffering from dropsy.\nThe Prince said to her, 'Do you sincerely believe that you can be helped\nand are helped?' The sick woman replied, 'Yes. I had resolved to leave\nthe hospital, where no good has been done to me, and to seek health from\nGod and the Prince.' He raised his eyes to heaven and prayed; then\nassured the patient of her cure. Her case became worse rapidly, instead\nof better.\n\n\"7. Margaretta L\u00f6hlein, of Randersacher, aged 56. Suffering from dropsy\nowing to disorganisation of the liver. Another failure. Shortly after\nthe Prince left, she had to be operated on to save her from suffocation.\n\n\"10. Susanna S\u00f6llnerin, servant maid of Aub, aged 22, had already been\nthirteen weeks in hospital, suffering from roaring noises in the head\nand deafness. The Prince, observing the fervour of her faith, cried out,\n'You shall see now how speedily she will be cured!' Prayers, blessing,\nas before, and--as before, no results.\n\n\"11. George Forchheimer, butcher, suffering from rheumatism. One foot\nis immovable, and he can only walk with the assistance of a stick.\nDuring the prayer of the Prince the patient wept and sobbed, and was\nprofoundly agitated. The Prince ordered him to stand up and go without\nhis stick. His efforts to obey were unavailing; he fell several times on\nthe ground, though the Prince repeated over him his prayers.\"\n\nThese are sufficient as instances; not a single case in the hospital was\nmore successfully treated by him.\n\nOn July 5 Prince Hohenlohe went to Bamberg, where he was eagerly awaited\nby many sick and credulous persons. The Burgomaster Hornthal, however,\ninterfered, and forbade the attempt at performing miracles till the\nauthorities at Baireuth had been instructed of his arrival, and till a\ncommission had been appointed of men of judgment, and physicians to take\nnote of the previous condition of every patient who was submitted to\nhim, and of the subsequent condition. Thus hampered the Prince could do\nnothing; he failed as signally as in the Julius Hospital at W\u00fcrzburg,\nand the only cases of cures claimed to have been wrought were among a\nmixed crowd in the street to whom he gave a blessing from the balcony of\nhis lodging.\n\nFinding that Bamberg was uncongenial, he accepted a call to the Baths of\nBr\u00fcckenau, and thence news reached the incredulous of Bamberg and\nW\u00fcrzburg that extraordinary cures had been wrought at the prayers of the\nPrince. As, however, we have no details respecting these, we may pass\nthem over.\n\nHohenlohe, who had no notion of hiding his light under a bushel, drew\nup a detailed account of over a hundred cures which he claimed to have\nworked, had them attested by witnesses, and sent this precious document\nto the Pope, who, with good sense, took no notice of it; at least no\npublic notice, though it is probable that he administered a sharp\nprivate reprimand, for Hohenlohe collapsed very speedily.\n\nFrom Br\u00fcckenau the Prince went to Vienna, but was not favourably\nreceived there, so he departed to Hungary, where his mother's relations\nlived. Though he was applied to by sick people who had heard of his\nfame, he did not make any more direct attempts to heal them. He,\nhowever, gave them cards on which a day and hour were fixed, and a\nprayer written, and exhorted them to pray for recovery earnestly on the\nday and at the hour indicated, and promised to pray for them at the same\ntime. But this was also discontinued, having proved inefficacious, and\nHohenlohe relapsed into a quiet unostentatious life. He was appointed,\nthrough family interest, Canon of Grosswardein, and in 1829 advanced to\nbe Provost of the Cathedral. His powers as a preacher long survived his\npowers of working miracles. He spent his time in good works, and in\nwriting little manuals of devotion. In 1844 he was consecrated titular\nBishop of Sardica _in partibus_, that is, without a See. He died at\nV\u00f6slau, near Vienna, in 1849. That Hohenlohe was a conscious hypocrite\nwe are far from supposing. He was clearly a man of small mental powers,\nvery conceited, and wanting in judgment. We must not place too much\nreliance on the scandalous gossip of Dr. Wolff. Probably Hohenlohe's\nvanity received a severe check in 1821, when both the Roman See and the\nworld united to discredit his miracles; and he had sufficient good sense\nto accept the verdict.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[16] Johann M. Sailer was a famous ex-Jesuit preacher, at this time\nProfessor at the University of Landshut, afterwards Bishop of Ratisbon.\nHe died, 1832.\n\n\n\n\nThe Snail-Telegraph.\n\n\nThe writer well remembers, as a child, the sense of awe not unmixed with\nfear, with which he observed the mysterious movements of the telegraph\nerected on church towers in France along all the main roads.\n\nMany a beautiful tower was spoiled by these abominable erections. There\nwere huge arms like those of a windmill, painted black, and jointed, so\nas to describe a great number of cabalistic signs in the air. Indeed,\nthe movements were like the writhings of some monstrous spider.\n\nGlanvil who wrote in the middle of the 17th century says, \"To those that\ncome after us, it may be as ordinary to buy a pair of wings to fly into\nthe remotest regions, as now a pair of boots to ride a journey. _And to\nconfer, at the distance of the Indies, by sympathetic conveyances_, may\nbe as usual to future times as to us is literary correspondence.\" He\nfurther remarks, \"Antiquity would not have believed the almost\nincredible force of our cannons, and would as coldly have entertained\nthe wonders of the telescope. In these we all condemn antique\nincredulity. And it is likely posterity will have as much cause to pity\nours. But those who are acquainted with the diligent and ingenious\nendeavours of true philosophers will despair of nothing.\"\n\nIn 1633 the Marquis of Worcester suggested a scheme of telegraphing by\nmeans of signs. Another, but similar scheme, was mooted in 1660 by the\nFrenchman Amonton. In 1763 Mr. Edgeworth erected for his private use a\ntelegraph between London and Newmarket. But it was in 1789 that the\nOptical Telegraph came into practical use in France--Claude Chappe was\nthe inventor. When he was a boy, he contrived a means of communication\nby signals with his brothers at a distance of two or three miles. He\nlaid down the first line between Lille and Paris at a cost of about two\nthousand pounds, and the first message sent along it was the\nannouncement of the capture of Lille by Cond\u00e9. This led to the\nconstruction of many similar lines communicating with each other by\nmeans of stations. Some idea of the celerity with which messages were\nsent may be gained from the fact that it took only two minutes to\nreproduce in Paris a sign given in Lille at a distance of 140 miles. On\nthis line there were 22 stations. The objections to this system lay in\nits being useless at night and in rainy weather. The French system of\ntelegraph consisted of one main beam--the regulator, at the end of which\nwere two shorter wings, so that it formed a letter Z. The regulator and\nits flags could be turned about in various ways, making in all 196\nsigns. Sometimes the regulator stood horizontally, sometimes\nperpendicularly.\n\nLord Murray introduced one of a different construction in England in\n1795 consisting of two rows of three octangular flags revolving on their\naxis. This gave 64 different signs, but was defective in the same point\nas that of Chappe. Poor Chappe was so troubled in mind because his claim\nto be the inventor of his telegraph was disputed, that he drowned\nhimself in a well, 1805.\n\nBesides the fact that the optical telegraph was paralysed by darkness\nand storm, it was very difficult to manage in mountainous and\nwell-wooded country, and required there a great number of stations.\n\nAfter that S\u00f6mmering had discovered at Munich in 1808 the means of\nsignalling through the galvanic current obtained by decomposition of\nwater, and Schilling at Canstadt and Amp\u00e8re in Paris (1820) had made\nfurther advances in the science of electrology, and Oersted had\nestablished the deflexion of the magnetic needle, it was felt that the\nday of the cumbrous and disfiguring optical telegraph was over. A new\npower had been discovered, though the extent and the applicability of\nthis power were not known. Gauss and Weber in 1833 made the first\nattempt to set up an electric telegraph; in 1837 Wheatstone and Morse\nutilised the needle and made the telegraph print its messages. In 1833\nthe telegraph of Gauss and Weber supplanted the optical contrivance on\nthe line between Tr\u00e8ves and Berlin. The first line in America was laid\nfrom Washington to Baltimore in 1844. The first attempt at submarine\ntelegraphy was made at Portsmouth in 1846, and in 1850 a cable was laid\nbetween England and France.\n\nIt was precisely in this year when men's minds were excited over the\nwonderful powers of the galvanic current, and a wide prospect was opened\nof its future advantage to men, when, indeed, the general public\nunderstood very little about the principle and were in a condition of\nmind to accept almost any scientific marvel, that there appeared in\nParis an adventurer, who undertook to open communications between all\nparts of the world without the expense and difficulty of laying cables\nof communication. The line laid across the channel in 1850 was not very\nsuccessful; it broke several times, and had to be taken up again, and\nrelaid in 1851. If it did not answer in conveying messages across so\nnarrow a strip of water, was it likely to be utilized for Transatlantic\ntelegraphy? The _Presse_, a respectable Paris paper, conducted by a\njournalist of note, M. de Girardin, answered emphatically, No. The means\nof communication was not to be sought in a chain. The gutta percha\ncasing would decompose under the sea, and when the brine touched the\nwires, the cable would be useless. The Chappe telegraph was superseded\nby the electric telegraph which answered well on dry land, but fatal\nobjections stood in the way of its answering for communication between\nplaces divided by belts of sea or oceans. Moreover, it was an intricate\nsystem. Now the tendency of science in modern times was towards\nsimplification; and it was always found that the key to unlock\ndifficulties which had puzzled the inventors of the past, lay at their\nhands. The electric telegraph was certainly more elaborate, complicated\nand expensive than the optical telegraph. Was it such a decided advance\non it? Yes--in one way. It could be worked at all hours of night and\nday. But had the last word in telegraphy been spoken, when it was\ninvented? Most assuredly not.\n\nAlong with electricity and terrestrial magnetism, another power,\nvaguely perceived, the full utility of which was also unknown, had been\nrecognised--animal magnetism. Why should not this force be used as a\nmeans for the conveyance of messages?\n\nM. Jules Allix after a long preamble in _La Presse_, in an article\nsigned by himself, announced that a French inventor, M. Jacques\nToussaint Beno\u00eet (de l'H\u00e9rault), and a fellow worker of Gallic origin,\nliving in America, M. Biat-Chr\u00e9tien, had hit on \"a new system of\nuniversal intercommunication of thought, which operates\ninstantaneously.\"\n\nAfter a long introduction in true French rhodomontade, tracing the\nprogress of humanity from the publication of the Gospel to the 19th\ncentury, M. Allix continued, \"The discovery of MM. Beno\u00eet and Biat\ndepends on galvanism, terrestrial and animal magnetism, also on natural\nsympathy, that is to say, the base of communication is a sort of special\nsympathetic fluid which is composed of the union or blending of the\ngalvanic, magnetic and sympathetic currents, by a process to be\ndescribed shortly. And as the various fluids vary according to the\norganic or inorganic bodies whence they are derived, it is necessary\nfurther to state that the forces or fluids here married are: (_a_) The\nterrestrial-galvanic current, (_b_) the animal-sympathetic current, in\nthis case derived from _snails_, (_c_) the adamic or human current, or\nanimal-magnetic current in man. Consequently, to describe concisely the\nbasis of the new system of intercommunication, we shall have to call the\nforce, '_The galvano-terrestrial-magnetic-animal and adamic force!_'\"\nIs not this something like a piece of Jules Verne's delicious scientific\n_hocus-pocus_? Will the reader believe that it was written in good\nfaith? It was, there can be no question, written in perfect good faith.\nThe character of _La Presse_, of the journalist, M. Jules Allix, would\nnot allow of a hoax wilfully perpetrated on the public. We are quoting\nfrom the number for October 27th, 1850, of the paper.\n\n\"According to the experiments made by MM. Beno\u00eet and Biat, it seems that\nsnails which have once been put in contact, are always in sympathetic\ncommunication. When separated, there disengages itself from them a\nspecies of fluid of which the earth is the conductor, which develops and\nunrolls, so to speak, like the almost invisible thread of the spider, or\nthat of the silk worm, which can be uncoiled and prolonged almost\nindefinitely in space without its breaking, but with this vital\ndifference that the thread of the escargotic fluid is invisible as\ncompletely and the pulsation along it is as rapid as the electric fluid.\n\n\"But, it may be objected with some plausibility, granted the existence\nin the snails of this sympathetic fluid, will it radiate from them in\nall directions, after the analogy of electric, galvanic and magnetic\nfluids, unless there be some conductor established between them? At\nfirst sight, this objection has some weight, but for all that it is more\nspecious than serious.\" The solution of this difficulty is exquisitely\nabsurd. We must summarise.\n\nAt first the discoverers of the galvanic current thought it necessary to\nestablish a return wire, to complete the circle, till it was found to be\nsufficient to carry the two ends of the wire in communication with the\nearth, when the earth itself completed the circle. There is no visible\nline between the ends underground, yet the current completes the circle\nthrough it. Moreover, it is impossible to think of two points without\nestablishing, in idea, a line between them, indeed, according to\nEuclid's definition, a straight line is that which lies evenly between\nits extreme points, and a line is length without breadth or substance.\nSo, if we conceive of two snails, we establish a line between them, an\nunsubstantial line, still a line along which the sympathetic current can\ntravel. \"Now MM. Beno\u00eet and Biat, by means of balloons in the\natmosphere,\" had established beyond doubt that a visible tangible line\nof communication was only necessary when raised above the earth.\n\n\"Consequently, there remains nothing more to be considered than the\nmeans, the apparatus, whereby the transmission of thought is effected.\n\n\"This apparatus consists of a square box, in which is a Voltaic pile, of\nwhich the metallic plates, instead of being superposed, as in the pile\nof Volta, are disposed in order, attached in holes formed in a wheel or\ncircular disc, that revolves about a steel axis. To these metallic\nplates used by Volta, MM. Beno\u00eet and Biat have substituted others in the\nshape of cups or circular basins, composed of zinc lined with cloth\nsteeped in a solution of sulphate of copper maintained in place by a\nblade of copper riveted to the cup. At the bottom of each of these\nbowls, is fixed, by aid of a composition that shall be given presently,\na living snail, whose sympathetic influence may unite and be woven with\nthe galvanic current, when the wheel of the pile is set in motion and\nwith it the snails that are adhering to it.\n\n\"Each galvanic basin rests on a delicate spring, so that it may respond\nto every escargotic commotion. Now; it is obvious that such an apparatus\nrequires a corresponding apparatus, disposed as has been described, and\ncontaining in it snails in sympathy with those in the other apparatus,\nso that the escargotic vibration may pass from one precise point in one\nof the piles to a precise point in the other and complementary pile.\nWhen these dispositions have been grasped the rest follows as a matter\nof course. MM. Beno\u00eet and Biat have fixed letters to the wheels,\ncorresponding the one with the other, and at each sympathetic touch on\none, the other is touched; consequently it is easy by this means,\nnaturally and instantaneously, to communicate ideas at vast distances,\nby the indication of the letters touched by the snails. The apparatus\ndescribed is in shape like a mariner's compass, and to distinguish it\nfrom that, it is termed the _pasilalinic--sympathetic compass_, as\ndescriptive at once of its effects and the means of operation.\"\n\nBut, who were these inventors, Beno\u00eet and Biat-Chr\u00e9tien? We will begin\nwith the latter. As Pontoppidon in his History of Norway heads a\nchapter, \"Of Snakes,\" and says, \"Of these there are none,\" so we may say\nof M. Biat-Chr\u00e9tien; there was no such man; at least he never rose to\nthe surface and was seen. Apparently his existence was as much a\nhallucination or creation of the fancy of M. Beno\u00eet, as was Mrs. Harris\na creature of the imagination of Mrs. Betsy Gamp. Certainly no\nBiat-Chr\u00e9tien was known in America as a discoverer.\n\nJacques Toussaint Beno\u00eet (de l'H\u00e9rault) was a man who had been devoted\nsince his youth to the secret sciences. His studies in magic and\nastrology, in mesmerism, and electricity, had turned his head. Together\nwith real eagerness to pursue his studies, and real belief in them, was\nadded a certain spice of rascality.\n\nOne day Beno\u00eet, who had by some means made the acquaintance of M. Triat,\nfounder and manager of a gymnasium in Paris for athletic exercises, came\nto Triat, and told him that he had made a discovery which would\nsupersede electric telegraphy. The director was a man of common sense,\nbut not of much education, certainly of no scientific acquirements. He\nwas, therefore, quite unable to distinguish between true and false\nscience. Beno\u00eet spoke with conviction, and carried away his hearer with\nhis enthusiasm.\n\n\"What is needed for the construction of the machine?\" asked M. Triat.\n\n\"Only two or three bits of wood,\" replied Beno\u00eet.\n\nM. Triat took him into his carpenter's shop. \"There, my friend,\" he\nsaid, \"here you have wood, and a man to help you.\"\n\nM. Triat did more. The future inventor of the instantaneous\ncommunication of thought was house-less and hungry. The manager rented a\nlodging for him, and advanced him money for his entertainment. Beno\u00eet\nset to work. He used a great many bits of wood, and occupied the\ncarpenter a good part of his time. Other things became necessary as\nwell as wood, things that cost money, and the money was found by M.\nTriat. So passed a twelvemonth. At the end of that time, which had been\nspent at the cost of his protector, Beno\u00eet had arrived at no result. It\nwas apparent that, in applying to M. Triat, he had sought, not so much\nto construct a machine already invented, as to devote himself to the\npursuit of his favourite studies. The director became impatient. He\ndeclined to furnish further funds. Then Beno\u00eet declared that the machine\nwas complete.\n\nThis machine, for the construction of which he had asked for two or\nthree pieces of wood, was an enormous scaffold formed of beams ten feet\nlong, supporting the Voltaic pile described by M. Allix, ensconced in\nthe bowls of which were the wretched snails stuck to the bottom of the\nbasins by some sort of glue, at intervals. This was the\nPasilalinic-sympathetic compass. It occupied one end of the apartment.\nAt the other end was a second, exactly similar. Each contained\ntwenty-four alphabetic-sympathetic snails. These poor beasts, glued to\nthe bottom of the zinc cups with little dribbles of sulphate of copper\ntrickling down the sides of the bowls from the saturated cloth placed on\nthem, were uncomfortable, and naturally tried to get away. They thrust\nthemselves from their shells and poked forth their horns groping for\nsome congenial spot on which to crawl, and came in contact with the wood\non which was painted the letters. But if they came across a drop of\nsolution of sulphate of copper, they went precipitately back into their\nshells.\n\nProperly, the two machines should have been established in different\nrooms, but no second room was available on the flat where Beno\u00eet was\nlodged, so he was forced to erect both vis-\u00e0-vis. That, however, was a\nmatter wholly immaterial, as he explained to those who visited the\nlaboratory. Space was not considered by snails. Place one in Paris, the\nother at the antipodes, the transmission of thought along their\nsympathetic current was as complete, instantaneous and effective as in\nhis room on the _troisi\u00e8me_. In proof of this, Beno\u00eet undertook to\ncorrespond with his friend and fellow-worker Biat-Chr\u00e9tien in America,\nwho had constructed a similar apparatus. He assured all who came to\ninspect his invention that he conversed daily by means of the snails\nwith his absent friend. When the machine was complete, the inventor was\nin no hurry to show it in working order; however M. Triat urged\nperformance on him. He said, and there was reason in what he said, that\nan exhibition of the pasilalinic telegraph before it was perfected,\nwould be putting others on the track, who might, having more means at\ntheir command, forestall him, and so rob him of the fruit of his\nlabours. At last he invited M. Triat and M. Allix, as representative of\nan influential journal, to witness the apparatus in working order, on\nOctober 2nd. He assured them that since September 30, he had been in\nconstant correspondence with Biat-Chr\u00e9tien, who, without crossing the\nsea, would assist at the experiments conducted at Paris on Wednesday,\nOctober 2nd, in the lodging of M. Beno\u00eet.\n\nOn the appointed day, M. Triat and M. Allix were at the appointed place.\nThe former at once objected to the position of the two compasses, but\nwas constrained to be satisfied with the reason given by the operator.\nIf they could not be in different rooms, at least a division should be\nmade in the apartment by means of a curtain, so that the operator at one\ncompass could not see him at the other. But there was insuperable\ndifficulty in doing this, so M. Triat had to waive this objection also.\nM. Jules Allix was asked to attend one of the compasses, whilst the\ninventor stood on the scaffold managing the other. M. Allix was to send\nthe message, by touching the snails which represented the letters\nforming the words to be transmitted, whereupon the corresponding snail\non M. Beno\u00eet's apparatus was supposed to thrust forth his horns. But,\nunder one pretext or another, the inventor ran from one apparatus to the\nother, the whole time, so that it was not very difficult, with a little\nmanagement, to reproduce on his animated compass the letters transmitted\nby M. Jules Allix.\n\nThe transmission, moreover, was not as exact as it ought to have been.\nM. Jules Allix had touched the snails in such order as to form the word\n_gymnase_; Beno\u00eet on his compass read the word _gymoate_. Then M. Triat,\ntaking the place of the inventor, sent the words _lumiere divine_ to M.\nJules Allix, who read on his compass _lumhere divine_. Evidently the\nsnails were bad in their orthography. The whole thing, moreover, was a\nfarce, and the correspondence, such as it was, was due to the incessant\nvoyages of the inventor from one compass to the other, under the pretext\nof supervising the mechanism of the two apparatuses.\n\nBeno\u00eet was then desired to place himself in communication with his\nAmerican friend, planted before his compass on the other side of the\nAtlantic. He transmitted to him the signal to be on the alert. Then he\ntouched with a live snail he held in his hand the four snails that\ncorresponded to the letters of the name BIAT; then they awaited the\nreply from America. After a few moments, the poor glued snails began to\npoke out their horns in a desultory, irregular manner, and by putting\nthe letters together, with some accommodation CESTBIEN was made out,\nwhich when divided, and the apostrophe added, made _C'est bien_.\n\nM. Triat was much disconcerted. He considered himself as hoaxed. Not so\nM. Allix. He was so completely satisfied, that on the 27th October,\nappeared the article from his pen which we have quoted. M. Triat then\nwent to the inventor and told him point blank, that he withdrew his\nprotection from him. Beno\u00eet entreated him not to throw up the matter,\nbefore the telegraph was perfected.\n\n\"Look here!\" said M. Triat; \"nothing is easier than for you to make me\nchange my intention. Let one of your compasses be set up in my\ngymnasium, and the other in the side apartment. If that seems too much,\nthen let a simple screen be drawn between the two, and do you refrain\nfrom passing between them whilst the experiment is being carried on. If\nunder these conditions you succeed in transmitting a single word from\none apparatus to the other, I will give you a thousand francs a day\nwhilst your experiments are successful.\"\n\nM. Triat then visited M. de Girardin who was interested in the matter,\nhalf believed in it, and had accordingly opened the columns of _La\nPresse_ to the article of M. Allix. M. de Girardin wished to be present\nat the crucial experiment, and M. Triat gladly invited him to attend. He\noffered another thousand francs so long as the compasses worked. \"My\nplan is this,\" said M. de Girardin: \"If Beno\u00eet's invention is a success,\nwe will hire the _Jardin d'hiver_ and make Beno\u00eet perform his\nexperiments in public. That will bring us in a great deal more than two\nthousand francs a day.\"\n\nBeno\u00eet accepted all the conditions with apparent alacrity; but, before\nthe day arrived for the experiment, after the removal of the two great\nscaffolds to the gymnasiums--he had disappeared. He was, however, seen\nafterwards several times in Paris, very thin, with eager restless eyes,\napparently partly deranged. He died in 1852!\n\nAlas for Beno\u00eet. He died a few years too soon. A little later, and he\nmight have become a personage of importance in the great invasion of the\ntable-turning craze which shortly after inundated Europe, and turned\nmany heads as well as tables.\n\n\n\n\nThe Countess Goerlitz.\n\n\nOne of the most strange and terrible tragedies of this century was the\nmurder of the Countess Goerlitz; and it excited immense interest in\nGermany, both because of the high position of the unfortunate lady, the\nmystery attaching to her death, and because the charge of having\nmurdered her rested on her husband, the Count Goerlitz, Chamberlain to\nthe Grand-Duke of Hesse, Privy Councillor, a man of fortune as well as\nrank, and of unimpeachable character. There was another reason why the\ncase excited general interest: the solution remained a mystery for three\nwhole years, from 1847 to 1850.\n\nThe Count Goerlitz was a man of forty-six, a great favourite at the\nCourt, and of fine appearance. He had married, in 1820, the daughter of\nthe Privy Councillor, Plitt. They had no children. The Countess was aged\nforty-six when the terrible event occurred which we are about to relate.\n\nThe Count and Countess lived in their mansion in the Neckarstrasse in\nDarmstadt--a large, palatial house, handsomely furnished. Although\nliving under the same roof, husband and wife lived apart. She occupied\nthe first floor, and he the parterre, or ground floor. They dined\ntogether. The cause of the unfriendly terms on which they lived was the\nfact that the Countess was wealthy, her family was of citizen origin,\nand had amassed a large fortune in trade. Her father had been ennobled\nby the Grand-Duke, and she had been his heiress. The Count, himself, had\nnot much of his own, and his wife cast this fact in his teeth. She loved\nto talk of the \"beggar nobility,\" who were obliged to look out for rich\nburghers' daughters to gild their coronets. The Count may have been hot\nof temper, and have aggravated matters by sharpness of repartee; but,\naccording to all accounts, it was her miserliness and bitter tongue\nwhich caused the estrangement.\n\nThere were but four servants in the house--the Count's valet, the\ncoachman, a manservant of the Countess, and the cook.\n\nEvery Sunday the Count Goerlitz dined at the palace. On Sunday, June 13,\n1847, he had dined at the Grand-Duke's table as usual. As we know from\nthe letters of the Princess Alice, life was simple at that Court. Hours\nwere, as usual in South Germany, early. The carriage took the Count to\ndinner at the palace at 3 P.M., and he returned home in it to the Neckar\nStreet at half-past six. When he came in he asked the servant of the\nCountess, a man named John Stauff, whether his wife was at home, as he\nwanted to see her. As a matter of fact, he had brought away from the\ndinner-table at the palace some maccaroons and bonbons for her, as she\nhad a sweet tooth, and he thought the attention might please her.\n\nAs John Stauff told him the Countess was in, he ascended the stone\nstaircase. A glass door led into the anteroom. He put his hand to it and\nfound it fastened. Thinking that his wife was asleep, or did not want\nto be disturbed, he went downstairs to his own room, which was under her\nsitting-room. There he listened for her tread, intending, on hearing it,\nto reascend and present her with the bonbons. As he heard nothing, he\nwent out for a walk. The time was half-past seven. A little before nine\no'clock he returned from his stroll, drew on his dressing-gown and\nslippers, and asked for his supper, a light meal he was wont to take by\nhimself in his own room, though not always, for the Countess frequently\njoined him. Her mood was capricious. As he had the bonbons in his\npocket, and had not yet been able to present them, he sent her man\nStauff to tell her ladyship that supper was served, and that it would\ngive him great satisfaction if she would honour him with her presence.\nStauff came back in a few moments to say that the Countess was not at\nhome. \"Nonsense!\" said the husband, \"of course she is at home. She may,\nhowever, be asleep. I will go myself and find her.\" Thereupon he\nascended the stairs, and found, as before, the glass door to the\nanteroom fastened. He looked in, but saw nothing. He knocked, and\nreceived no answer. Then he went to the bedroom door, knocked, without\nresult; listened, and heard no sound. The Count had a key to the\ndressing-room; he opened, and went in, and through that he passed into\nthe bed-chamber. That was empty. The bed-clothes were turned down for\nthe night, but were otherwise undisturbed. He had no key to the anteroom\nand drawing-room.\n\nThen the Count went upstairs to the laundry, which was on the highest\nstorey, and where were also some rooms. The Countess was particular\nabout her lace and linen, and often attended to them herself, getting up\nsome of the collars and frills with her own hands. She was not in the\nlaundry. Evidently she was, as Stauff had said, not at home. The Count\nquestioned the manservant. Had his mistress intimated her intention of\nsupping abroad? No, she had not. Nevertheless, it was possible she might\nhave gone to intimate friends. Accordingly, he sent to the palace of\nPrince Wittgenstein, and to the house of Councillor von Storch, to\ninquire if she were at either. She had been seen at neither.\n\nThe Count was puzzled, without, however, being seriously alarmed. He\nbade Stauff call the valet, Schiller, and the coachman, Sch\u00e4mbs, who\nslept out of the house, and then go for a locksmith. Stauff departed.\nPresently the valet and coachman arrived, and, after, Stauff, without\nthe locksmith, who, he said, was ill, and his man was at the tavern. The\nCount was angry and scolded. Then the coachman went forth, and soon came\nback with the locksmith's apprentice, who was set at once to open the\nlocked doors in the top storey. The Countess was not in them. At the\nsame time the young man noticed a smell of burning, but whence it came\nthey could not decide. Thinking that this smell came from the kitchen on\nthe first storey--that is, the floor above where the Count lived--they\nattacked the door of the kitchen, which was also locked. She was not\nthere. Then the Count led the way to the private sitting-room of the\nCountess. As yet only the young locksmith had noticed the fire, the\nothers were uncertain whether they smelt anything unusual or not. The\nkey of the apprentice would not fit the lock of the Countess' ante-room,\nso he ran home to get another. Then the Count went back to his own\napartment, and on entering it, himself perceived the smell of burning.\nAccordingly, he went upstairs again, to find that the coachman had\nopened an iron stove door in the passage, and that a thick pungent smoke\nwas pouring out of it. We must enter here into an explanation. In many\ncases the porcelain stove of a German house has no opening into the\nroom. It is lighted outside through a door into the passage. Several\nstoves communicate with one chimney. The Count and his servants ran out\ninto the courtyard to look at the chimney stack to see if smoke were\nissuing from it. None was. Then they returned to the house. The\napprentice had not yet returned. Looking through the glass door, they\nsaw that there was smoke in the room. It had been unperceived before,\nfor it was evening and dusk. At once the Count's valet, Schiller,\nsmashed the plate glass, and through the broken glass smoke rolled\ntowards them.\n\nThe hour was half-past ten. The search had occupied an hour and a half.\nIt had not been prosecuted with great activity; but then, no suspicion\nof anything to cause alarm had been entertained. If the Countess were at\nhome, she must be in the sitting-room. From this room the smoke must\ncome which pervaded the ante-chamber. The fire must be within, and if\nthe Countess were there, she must run the danger of suffocation.\nConsequently, as the keys were not at hand, the doors ought to be broken\nopen at once. This was not done. Count Goerlitz sent the servants away.\nStauff he bade run for a chimney-sweep, and Schiller for his medical\nman, Dr. Stegmayer. The coachman had lost his head and ran out into the\nstreet, yelling, \"Fire! fire!\" The wife of Schiller, who had come in,\nran out to summon assistance.\n\nThe Count was left alone outside the glass door; and there he remained\npassive till the arrival of the locksmith's man with the keys. More time\nwas wasted. None of the keys would open the door, and still the smoke\nrolled out. Then the apprentice beat the door open with a stroke of his\nhammer. He did it of his own accord, without orders from the Count. That\nwas remembered afterwards. At once a dense, black, sickly-smelling smoke\npoured forth, and prevented the entrance of those who stood without.\n\nIn the meantime, the coachman and others had put ladders against the\nwall, one to the window of the ante-room, the other to that of the\nparlour. Seitz, the apprentice, ran up the ladder, and peered in. The\nroom was quite dark. He broke two panes in the window, and at once a\nblue flame danced up, caught the curtains, flushed yellow, and shot out\na fiery tongue through the broken window. Seitz, who seems to have been\nthe only man with presence of mind, boldly put his arm through and\nunfastened the valves, and, catching the burning curtains, tore them\ndown and flung them into the street. Then he cast down two chairs which\nwere flaming from the window. He did not venture in because of the\nsmoke.\n\nIn the meanwhile the coachman had broken the window panes of the\nante-room. This produced a draught through the room, as the glass door\nhad been broken in by Seitz. The smoke cleared sufficiently to allow of\nadmission to the parlour door. This door was also found to be locked,\nand not only locked, but with the key withdrawn from it, as had been\nfrom the ante-chamber door. This door was also burst open, and then it\nwas seen that the writing-desk of the Countess was on fire. That was all\nthat could be distinguished at the first glance. The room was full of\nsmoke, and the heat was so great that no one could enter.\n\nWater was brought in jugs and pails, and thrown upon the floor. The\ncurrent of air gradually dissipated the smoke, and something white was\nobserved on the floor near the burning desk. \"Good heavens!\" exclaimed\nthe Count, \"there she lies!\"\n\nThe Countess lay on the floor beside her writing-desk; the white object\nwas her stockings.\n\nAmong those who entered was a smith called Wetzell; he dashed forward,\nflung a pail of water over the burning table, caught hold of the feet of\nthe dead body, and dragged it into the ante-room. Then he sought to\nraise it, but it slipped through his hands. A second came to his\nassistance, with the same result. The corpse was like melted butter.\nWhen he seized it by the arm, the flesh came away from the bone.\n\nThe body was laid on a mat, and so transported into a cabinet. The upper\nportion was burnt to coal; one hand was charred; on the left foot was a\nshoe, the other was found, later, in another room. More water was\nbrought, and the fire in the parlour was completely quenched. Then only\nwas it possible to examine the place. The fire had, apparently,\noriginated at the writing-desk or secretaire of the Countess; the body\nhad lain before the table, and near it was a chair, thrown over. From\nthe drawing-room a door, which was found open, led into the boudoir.\nThis boudoir had a window that looked into a side street. In the\nante-room were no traces of fire. In the drawing-room only the\nsecretaire and the floor beneath it had been burnt. On a chiffonier\nagainst the wall were candlesticks, the stearine candles in them had\nbeen melted by the heat of the room and run over the chiffonier.\n\nIn this room was also a sofa, opposite the door leading from the\nante-chamber, some way from the desk and the seat of the fire. In the\nmiddle of the sofa was a hole fourteen inches long by six inches broad,\nburnt through the cretonne cover, the canvas below, and into the horse\nhair beneath. A looking-glass hung against the wall above; this glass\nwas broken and covered with a deposit as of smoke. It was apparent,\ntherefore, that a flame had leaped up on the sofa sufficiently high and\nhot to snap the mirror and obscure it.\n\nLeft of the entrance-door was a bell-rope, torn down and cast on the\nground.\n\nBeyond the parlour was the boudoir. It had a little corner divan. Its\ncover was burnt through in two places. The cushion at the back was also\nmarked with holes burnt through. Above this seat against the wall hung\nan oil painting. It was blistered with heat. Near it was an \u00e9tag\u00e8re, on\nwhich were candles; these also were found melted completely away. In\nthis boudoir was found the slipper from the right foot of the Countess.\n\nIf the reader will consider what we have described, he will see that\nsomething very mysterious must have occurred. There were traces of\nburning in three distinct places--on the sofa, and at the secretaire in\nthe parlour, and on the corner seat in the boudoir. It was clear also\nthat the Countess had been in both rooms, for her one slipper was in the\nboudoir, the other on her foot in the drawing-room. Apparently, also,\nshe had rung for assistance, and torn down the bell-rope.\n\nAnother very significant and mysterious feature of the case was the fact\nthat the two doors were found locked, and that the key was not found\nwith the body, nor anywhere in the rooms. Consequently, the Countess had\nnot locked herself in.\n\nAgain:--the appearance of the corpse was peculiar. The head and face\nwere burnt to cinder, especially the face, less so the back of the head.\nAll the upper part of the body had been subjected to fire, as far as the\nlower ribs, and there the traces of burning ceased absolutely. Also, the\nfloor was burnt in proximity to the corpse, but not where it lay. The\nbody had protected the floor where it lay from fire.\n\nThe police were at once informed of what had taken place, and the\nmagistrates examined the scene and the witnesses. This was done in a\nreprehensibly inefficient manner. The first opinion entertained was that\nthe Countess had been writing at her desk, and had set fire to herself,\nhad run from room to room, tried to obtain assistance by ringing the\nbell, had failed, fallen, and died. Three medical men were called in to\nexamine the body. One decided that this was a case of spontaneous\ncombustion. The second that it was not a case of spontaneous combustion.\nThe third simply stated that she had been burnt, but how the fire\noriginated he was unable to say. No minute examination of the corpse was\nmade. It was not even stripped of the half-burnt clothes upon it. It was\nnot dissected. The family physician signed a certificate of \"accidental\ndeath,\" and two days after the body was buried.\n\nOnly three or, at the outside, four hypotheses could account for the\ndeath of the Countess.\n\n1. She had caught fire accidentally, whilst writing at her desk.\n\n2. She had died of spontaneous combustion.\n\n3. She had been murdered.\n\nThere is, indeed, a fourth hypothesis--that she had committed suicide;\nbut this was too improbable to be entertained. The manner of death was\nnot one to be reconciled with the idea of suicide.\n\nThe first idea was that in the minds of the magistrates. They were\nprepossessed with it. They saw nothing that could militate against it.\nMoreover, the Count was Chamberlain at Court, a favourite of the\nsovereign and much liked by the princes, also a man generally respected.\nUnquestionably this had something to do with the hasty and superficial\nmanner in which the examination was gone through. The magistrates\ndesired to have the tragedy hushed up.\n\nA little consideration shows that the theory of accident was untenable.\nThe candles were on the chiffonier, and no traces of candlesticks were\nfound on the spot where the fire had burned. Moreover, the appearance of\nthe secretaire was against this theory. The writing-desk and table\nconsisted of a falling flap, on which the Countess wrote, and which she\ncould close and lock. Above this table were several small drawers which\ncontained her letters, receipted bills, and her jewelry. Below it were\nlarger drawers. The upper drawers were not completely burnt; on the\nother hand, the lower drawers were completely consumed, and their\nbottoms and contents had fallen in cinders on the floor beneath, which\nwas also burnt through to the depth of an inch and a half to two inches.\nIt was apparent, therefore, that the secretaire had been set on fire\nfrom below. Moreover, there was more charcoal found under it than could\nbe accounted for, by supposing it had fallen from above. Now it will be\nremembered that only the upper portion of the body was consumed. The\nCountess had not set fire to herself whilst writing, and so set fire to\nthe papers on the desk. That was impossible.\n\nThe supposition that she had died of spontaneous combustion was also\nentertained by a good many. But no well-authenticated case of\nspontaneous combustion is known. Professor Liebig, when afterwards\nexamined on this case, stated that spontaneous combustion of the human\nbody was absolutely impossible, and such an idea must be relegated to\nthe region of myths.\n\nThere remained, therefore, no other conclusion at which it was possible\nfor a rational person to arrive who weighed the circumstances than that\nthe Countess had been murdered.\n\nThe Magisterial Court of the city of Darmstadt had attempted to hush-up\nthe case. The German press took it up. It excited great interest and\nindignation throughout the country. It was intimated pretty pointedly\nthat the case had been scandalously slurred over, because of the rank of\nthe Count and the intimate relation in which he stood to the royal\nfamily. The papers did not shrink from more than insinuating that this\nwas a case of murder, and that the murderer was the husband of the\nunfortunate woman. Some suspicion that this was so seems to have crossed\nthe minds of the servants of the house. They recollected his\ndilatoriness in entering the rooms of the Countess; the time that was\nprotracted in idle sending for keys, and trying key after key, when a\nkick of the foot or a blow of the hammer would have sufficed to give\nadmission to the room where she lay. It was well known that the couple\ndid not live on the best terms. To maintain appearances before the\nworld, they dined and occasionally supped together. They rarely met\nalone, and when they did fell into dispute, and high words passed which\nthe servants heard.\n\nThe Countess was mean and miserly, she grudged allowing her husband any\nof her money. She had, however, made her will the year before, leaving\nall her large fortune to her husband for life. Consequently her death\nreleased him from domestic and pecuniary annoyances. On the morning\nafter the death he sent for the agent of the insurance company with\nwhom the furniture and other effects were insured and made his claim. He\nclaimed, in addition to the value of the furniture destroyed, the worth\nof a necklace of diamonds and pearls which had been so injured by the\nfire that it had lost the greater part of its value. The pearls were\nquite spoiled, and the diamonds reduced in worth by a half. The agent\nrefused this claim, as he contended that the jewelry was not included in\nthe insurance, and the Count abstained from pressing it.\n\nTo the Count the situation became at length intolerable. He perceived a\ndecline of cordiality in his reception at Court, his friends grew cold,\nand acquaintances cut him. He must clear himself of the charge which now\nweighed on him. The death of the Countess had occurred on June 13, 1847.\nOn October 6, that is four months later, Count Goerlitz appeared before\nthe Grand-Ducal Criminal Court of Darmstadt, and produced a bundle of\nGerman newspapers charging him with having murdered his wife, and set\nfire to the room to conceal the evidence of his crime. He therefore\nasked to have the case re-opened, and the witnesses re-examined. Nothing\nfollowed. The Court hesitated to take up the case again, and throw\ndiscredit on the magistrates' decision in June. Again, on October 16,\nthe Count renewed his request, and desired, if this were refused, that\nhe and his solicitor might be allowed access to the minutes of the\nexamination, that they might be enabled to take decided measures for the\nclearing of the Count's character, and the chastisement of those who\ncharged him with an atrocious crime. On October 21, he received a\nreply, \"that his request could not be granted, unless he produced such\nadditional evidence as would show the Court that the former examination\nwas defective.\"\n\nOn October 25, the Count laid a mass of evidence before the Court which,\nhe contended, would materially modify, if not absolutely upset the\nconclusion arrived at by the previous investigation.\n\nThen, at last, consent was given; but proceedings did not begin till\nNovember, and dragged on till the end of October in the following year,\nwhen a new law of criminal trial having been passed in the grand-duchy,\nthe whole of what had gone before became invalid, save as preliminary\ninvestigation, and it was not till March 4, 1850--that is, not till\n_three years_ after the death of the Countess--that the case was\nthoroughly sifted and settled. Before the promulgation of the law of\nOctober, 1848, all trials were private, then trial by jury, and in\npublic, was introduced.\n\nHowever, something had been done. In August 1848--that is, over a year\nafter the burial of the Countess--the body was exhumed and submitted to\nexamination. Two facts were then revealed. The skull of the Countess had\nbeen fractured by some blunt instrument; and she had been strangled. The\ncondition in which the tongue had been found when the body was first\ndiscovered had pointed to strangulation, the state of the jaws when\nexhumed proved it.\n\nSo much, then, was made probable. A murderer had entered the room,\nstruck the Countess on the head, and when that did not kill her, he had\nthrottled her. Then, apparently, so it was argued, he had burnt the\nbody, and next, before it was more than half consumed, had placed it\nnear the secretaire, and, finally, had set fire to the secretaire.\n\nHe had set fire to the writing-desk to lead to the supposition that the\nCountess had set fire to herself whilst writing at it; and this was the\nfirst conclusion formed.\n\nThat a struggle had taken place appeared from several circumstances. The\nbell-rope was torn down. Probably no servant had been in the house that\nSunday evening when the bell rang desperately for aid. The seat flung\nover seemed to point to her having been surprised at the desk. One shoe\nwas in the boudoir. The struggle had been continued as she fled from the\nsitting-room into the inner apartment.\n\nNow, only, were the fire-marks on the divan and sofa explicable. The\nCountess had taken refuge first on one, then on the other, after having\nbeen wounded, and her blood had stained them. The murderer had burnt out\nthe marks of blood.\n\nShe had fled from the sitting-room to the boudoir, and thence had hoped\nto escape through the next door into a corner room, but the door of that\nroom was locked.\n\nThe next point to be determined was, where had her body been burnt.\n\n\n     locked   |   boudoir\n     room     |\n             o|o\n     ---------+----------\n            |a|o\n             -|\n     anteroom |   parlour\n\n\nIn the sitting-room, the boudoir, and a locked corner room were stoves.\nThe walls of these rooms met, and in the angles were the stoves. They\nall communicated with one chimney. They were all heated from an opening\nin the anteroom, marked _a_, which closed with an iron door, and was\ncovered with tapestry. The opening was large enough for a human being to\nbe thrust through, and the fire-chamber amply large enough also for its\nconsumption.\n\nMuch time had passed since a serious examination was begun, and it was\ntoo late to think of finding evidence of the burning of the body in this\nplace. The stoves had been used since, each winter. However, some new\nand surprising evidence did come to light. At five minutes past eight on\nthe evening that the mysterious death took place, Colonel von\nStockhausen was on the opposite side of the street talking to a lady,\nwhen his attention was arrested by a dense black smoke issuing suddenly\nfrom the chimney of the Count Goerlitz' palace. He continued looking at\nthe column of smoke whilst conversing with the lady, uncertain whether\nthe chimney were on fire or not, and whether he ought to give the alarm.\nWhen the lady left him, after about ten minutes, or a quarter of an\nhour, he saw that smoke ceased to issue from the chimney. He accordingly\nwent his way without giving notice of the smoke.\n\nSo far every piece of evidence went to show that the Countess had been\nmurdered. The conclusion now arrived at was this: she had been struck on\nthe head, chased from room to room bleeding, had been caught, strangled,\nthen thrust into the fire-chamber of the stove over a fire which only\nhalf consumed her; taken out again and laid before the secretaire, and\nthe secretaire deliberately set fire to, and all the blood-marks\nobliterated by fire. That something of this kind had taken place was\nevident. Who had done it was not so clear. The efforts of the Count to\nclear himself had established the fact that his wife was murdered, but\ndid not establish his innocence.\n\nSuddenly--the case assumed a new aspect, through an incident wholly\nunexpected and extraordinary.\n\nThe result of inquiry into the case of the death of the Countess\nGoerlitz was, that the decision that she had come to her end by\naccident, given by the city magistrates, was upset, and it was made\nabundantly clear that she had been murdered. By whom murdered was not so\nclear.\n\nInquiry carried the conclusion still further. She had been robbed as\nwell as murdered.\n\nWe have already described the writing-desk of the Countess. There were\ndrawers below the flap, and other smaller drawers concealed by it when\nclosed. In the smaller drawers she kept her letters, her bills, her\nvouchers for investments, and her jewelry. Among the latter was the\npearl and diamond necklace, which she desired by her will might be sold,\nand the money given to a charitable institution. The necklace was indeed\ndiscovered seriously injured; but what had become of her bracelets,\nbrooches, rings, her other necklets, her earrings? She had also a chain\nof pearls, which was nowhere to be found. All these articles were gone.\nNo trace of them had been found in the cinders under the secretaire;\nmoreover, the drawers in which she preserved them were not among those\nburnt through. In the first excitement and bewilderment caused by her\ndeath, the Count had not observed the loss, and the magistrates had not\nthought fit to inquire whether any robbery had been committed.\n\nA very important fact was now determined. The Countess had been robbed,\nand murdered, probably for the sake of her jewels. Consequently the\nmurderer was not likely to be the Count.\n\nWhen the case was re-opened, at Count Goerlitz's repeated demand, an\n\"Inquirent\" was appointed by the Count to examine the case--that is, an\nofficial investigator of all the circumstances; and on November 2, 1847,\nin the morning, notice was given to the Count that the \"Inquirent\" would\nvisit his mansion on the morrow and examine both the scene of the murder\nand the servants. The Count at once convoked his domestics and bade them\nbe in the house next day, ready for examination.\n\nThat same afternoon the cook, Margaret Eyrich by name, was engaged in\nthe kitchen preparing dinner for the master, who dined at 4 P.M. At\nthree o'clock the servant-man, John Stauff, came into the kitchen and\ntold the cook that her master wanted a fire lit in one of the upper\nrooms. She refused to go because she was busy at the stove. Stauff\nremained a quarter of an hour there talking to her. Then he said it was\nhigh time for him to lay the table for dinner, a remark to which she\ngave an assent, wondering in her own mind why he had delayed so long. He\ntook up a soup dish, observed that it was not quite clean, and asked her\nto wash it. She was then engaged on some sauce over the fire.\n\n\"I will wash it, if you will stir the sauce,\" she said. \"If I leave the\npan, the sauce will be burnt.\"\n\nStauff consented, and she went with the dish to the sink. Whilst thus\nengaged, she turned her head, and was surprised to see that Stauff had a\nsmall phial in his hand, and was pouring its contents into the sauce.\n\nShe asked him what he was about; he denied having done anything, and the\nwoman, with great prudence, said nothing further, so as not to let him\nthink that her suspicions were aroused. Directly, however, that he had\nleft the kitchen, she examined the sauce, saw it was discoloured, and on\ntrying it, that the taste was unpleasant. She called in the coachman and\nthe housekeeper. On consultation they decided that this matter must be\nfurther investigated. The housekeeper took charge of the sauce, and\ncarried it to Dr. Stegmayer, the family physician, who at once said that\nverdigris had been mixed with it, and desired that the police should be\ncommunicated with. This was done, the sauce was analysed, and found to\ncontain 15\u00bd grains of verdigris, enough to poison a man. Thereupon\nStauff was arrested.\n\nWe see now that an attempt had been made on the life of the Count, on\nthe day on which he had announced that an official inquiry into the\nmurder was to be made in his house and among his domestics.\n\nStauff, then, was apparently desirous of putting the Count out of the\nway before that inquiry was made. At this very time a terrible tragedy\nhad occurred in France, and was in all the papers. The Duke of Praslin\nhad murdered his wife, and when he was about to be arrested, the duke\nhad poisoned himself.\n\nDid Stauff wish that the Count should be found poisoned that night, in\norder that the public might come to the conclusion he had committed\nsuicide to escape arrest? It would seem so.\n\nJohn Stauff's arrest took place on November 3, 1847, four months and a\nhalf after the death of the Countess. He was, however, only arrested on\na charge of attempting to poison the Count, and the further charge of\nhaving murdered the Countess was not brought against him till August 28,\n1848. The body of the murdered woman, it will be remembered, was not\nexhumed and examined till August 11, 1848--eight months after the\nre-opening of the investigation! It is really wonderful that the mystery\nshould have been cleared and the Count's character satisfactorily\nvindicated, with such dilatoriness of proceeding. One more instance of\nthe stupid way in which the whole thing was managed. Although John\nStauff was charged with the attempt to poison on November 3, 1847, he\nwas not questioned on the charge till January 10, 1849, that is, till he\nhad been fourteen months in prison.\n\nIt will be remembered that the bell-rope in the Countess's parlour was\ntorn down. It would suggest itself to the meanest capacity that here was\na point of departure for inquiry. If the bell had been torn down, it\nmust have pealed its summons for help through the house. Who was in the\nhouse at the time? If anyone was, why did he not answer the appeal?\nInconceivable was the neglect of the magistrates of Darmstadt in the\nfirst examination--they did not inquire. Only several months later was\nthis matter subjected to investigation.\n\nIn the house lived the Count and Countess, the cook, who also acted as\nchambermaid to the Countess, Schiller, the valet to the Count, Sch\u00e4mbs,\nthe coachman, and the Countess's own servant-man, John Stauff. Of these\nSchiller and Sch\u00e4mbs did not sleep in the house.\n\nJune 13, the day of the murder, was a Sunday. The Count went as usual to\nthe grand-ducal palace in his coach at 3 P.M. The coachman drove him;\nStauff sat on the box beside the coachman. They left the Count at the\npalace and returned home. They were ordered to return to the palace to\nfetch him at 6 P.M. On Sundays, the Count usually spent his day in his\nown suite of apartments, and the Countess in hers. On the morning in\nquestion she had come downstairs to her husband with a bundle of coupons\nwhich she wanted him to cash for her on the morrow. He managed her\nfortune for her. The sum was small, only \u00a330. At 2 P.M. she went to the\nkitchen to tell the cook she might go out for the afternoon, as she\nwould not be wanted, and that she must return by 9 P.M.\n\nAt three o'clock the cook left. The cook saw and spoke to her as she\nleft. The Countess was then partially undressed, and the cook supposed\nshe was changing her clothes. Shortly after this, Schiller, the Count's\nvalet, saw and spoke with her. She was then upstairs in the laundry\narranging the linen for the mangle. She was then in her morning cotton\ndress. Consequently she had not dressed herself to go out, as the cook\nsupposed. At the same time the carriage left the court of the house for\nthe palace. That was the last seen of her alive, except by John Stauff,\nand, if he was not the murderer, by one other.\n\nAbout a quarter past three the coach returned with Sch\u00e4mbs and Stauff\non the box. The Count had been left at the palace. The coachman took out\nhis horses, without unharnessing them, and left for his own house, at\nhalf-past three, to remain there till 5 o'clock, when he must return,\nput the horses in, and drive back to the palace to fetch the Count. A\nquarter of an hour after the coachman left, Schiller went out for a walk\nwith his little boy.\n\nConsequently--none were in the house but the Countess and Stauff, and\nStauff knew that the house was clear till 5 o'clock, when Sch\u00e4mbs would\nreturn to the stables. What happened during that time?\n\nAt a quarter past four, the wife of Schiller came to the house with a\nlittle child, and a stocking she was knitting. She wanted to know if her\nhusband had gone with the boy to Eberstadt, a place about four miles\ndistant. She went to the back-door. It was not fastened, but on being\nopened rang a bell, like a shop door. Near it were two rooms, one\noccupied by Schiller, the other by Stauff. The wife went into her\nhusband's room and found it empty. Then she went into that of Stauff. It\nalso was empty. She returned into the entrance hall and listened.\nEverything was still in the house. She stood there some little while\nknitting and listening. Presently she heard steps descending the\nbackstairs, and saw Stauff, with an apron about him, and a duster in his\nhand. She asked him if her husband had gone to Eberstadt, and he said\nthat he had. Then she left the house. Stauff, however, called to her\nfrom the window to hold up the child to him, to kiss. She did so, and\nthen departed.\n\nShortly after five, Sch\u00e4mbs returned to the stable, put in the horses,\nand drove to the palace without seeing Stauff. He thought nothing of\nthis, as Stauff usually followed on foot, in time to open the coach door\nfor the Count. On this occasion, Stauff appeared at his post in livery,\nat a quarter to six. At half-past six both returned with their master to\nthe house in Neckar Street.\n\nAccordingly, from half-past three to a quarter past four, and from\nhalf-past four to half-past five, Stauff was alone in the house with the\nCountess. But then, from a quarter to five to half-past five she was\nquite alone, and it was possible that the murder was committed at that\ntime. The Count, it will be remembered, on his return, went upstairs and\nknocked at the door of the Countess' apartments, without meeting with a\nresponse. Probably, therefore, she was then dead.\n\nAt seven o'clock the coachman went away, and Stauff helped the Count to\ntake off his court dining dress, and put on a light suit. He was with\nhim till half-past seven, when the Count went out for a walk. The Count\nreturned at half-past eight; during an hour, therefore, Stauff was alone\nin the house with the Countess, or--her corpse.\n\nWhat occurred during that hour? Here two independent pieces of evidence\ncome in to assist us in determining what took place. At five minutes\npast eight, Colonel von Stockhausen had seen the column of black smoke\nissue from the chimney of the house; it ascended, he said, some fifteen\nfeet above the chimney, and was so dense that it riveted his attention\nwhilst he was talking to a lady.\n\nAt about a quarter-past eight the smoke ceased.\n\nThe reader may remember that the window of the inner boudoir did not\nlook into the Neckar Street, but into a small side street. Immediately\nopposite lived a widow lady named Kekule. On the evening in question,\nher daughter, Augusta, a girl of eighteen, came in from a walk, and went\nupstairs to the room the window of which was exactly opposite, though at\na somewhat higher level than the window of the boudoir. Looking out of\nher window, Augusta Kekule saw to her astonishment a flickering light\nlike a lambent flame in the boudoir. A blind was down, so that she could\nsee nothing distinctly. She was, however, alarmed, and called her\nbrother Augustus, aged twenty years, and both watched the flames\nflashing in the room. They called their mother also, and all three saw\nit flare up high, then decrease, and go out. The time was 8.15. On\nexamination of the spot, it was seen that the window of Miss Kekule\ncommanded the corner of the boudoir, where was the divan partly burnt\nthrough in several places.\n\nWhat was the meaning of these two appearances, the smoke and the flame?\nApparently, from half-past seven to half-past eight the murderer was\nengaged in burning the body, and in effacing with fire the blood-stains\non the sofas. During this time John Stauff was in the house, and, beside\nthe Countess, alive or dead, John Stauff only.\n\nStauff was now subjected to examination. He was required to account for\nhis time on the afternoon and evening of Sunday, June 13.\n\nHe said, that after his return from the palace, that is, about ten\nminutes past three, he went into his room on the basement, and ate bread\nand cheese. When told that the wife of Schiller stated she had seen him\ncome downstairs, he admitted that he had run upstairs to fetch a duster,\nto brush away the bread crumbs from the table at which he had eaten.\nAfter the woman left, according to his own account, he remained in his\nroom below till five o'clock, when the Countess came to the head of the\nstairs and called him. He went up and found her on the topmost landing;\nshe went into the laundry, and he stood in the door whilst she spoke to\nhim, and gave him some orders for the butcher and baker. She wore, he\nsaid, a black stuff gown. Whilst he was talking to her, Sch\u00e4mbs drove\naway to fetch the Count. He gave a correct account of what followed, up\nto the departure of the Count on his walk. After that, he said, he had\nwritten a letter to his sweetheart, and at eight went out to get his\nsupper at an outdoor restaurant where he remained till half-past nine.\nHe was unable to produce evidence of anyone who had seen him and spoken\nto him there; but, of course, much cannot be made of this, owing to the\ndistance of time at which the evidence was taken from the event of the\nmurder. According to his account, therefore, no one was in the house at\nthe time when the smoke rose from the chimney, and the flame was seen in\nthe boudoir.\n\nIf we sum up the points determined concerning the murder of the\nCountess, we shall see how heavily the evidence told against Stauff.\n\nShe had been attacked in her room, and after a desperate struggle, which\nwent on in both parlour and boudoir, she had been killed.\n\nHer secretaire had been robbed.\n\nHer body had been burnt.\n\nThe blood-stains had been effaced by fire.\n\nThe secretaire had been set fire to; and, apparently, the body removed\nfrom where it had been partially consumed, and placed near it.\n\nNow all this must have taken time. It could only be done by one who knew\nthat he had time in which to effect it undisturbed.\n\nJohn Stauff was at two separate times, in the afternoon and evening,\nalone in the house for an hour, knowing that during that time he would\nbe undisturbed.\n\nIf his account were true, the murder must have been committed during his\nbrief absence with the coach, and the burning of the body, and setting\nfire to the room, done when he went out to get his supper. But--how\ncould the murderer suppose he would leave the house open and unprotected\nat eight o'clock? Was it likely that a murderer and robber, after having\nkilled the Countess and taken her jewels at six o'clock, would hang\nabout till eight, waiting the chance of getting back to the scene of his\ncrime unobserved, to attempt to disguise it? not knowing, moreover, how\nmuch time he would have for effecting his purpose?\n\nIt was possible that this had been done, but it was not probable.\n\nEvidence was forthcoming from a new quarter that served to establish\nthe guilt of Stauff.\n\nOn October 6, 1847, an oilman, Henry Stauff, in Oberohmen, in Hesse\nCassel, was arrested, because he was found to be disposing of several\narticles of jewelry, without being able to give a satisfactory account\nof where he got them. The jewelry consisted of a lump of molten gold,\nand some brooches, bracelets and rings.\n\nHenry Stauff had been a whitesmith in his youth, then he became a\ncarrier, but in the last few years, since the death of his wife, he had\nsold knives, and been a knife-grinder. He was very poor, and had been\nunable to pay his rates. In July of 1847, however, his affairs seemed to\nhave mended; he wore a silver watch, and took out a licence to deal in\noil and seeds. When he applied for the patent, the burgomaster was\nsurprised, and asked him how he could get stock to set up business, in\nhis state of poverty. Thereupon, Henry Stauff opened his purse and\nshowed that it contained a good amount of silver, and--with the coins\nwas a gold ring with, apparently, a precious stone in it.\n\nThe cause of his arrest was his offering the lump of gold to a\nsilversmith in Cassel. It looked so much as if it was the melting up of\njewelry, that the smith communicated with the police. On his arrest,\nHenry Stauff said he was the father of four children, two sons and two\ndaughters; that his sons, one of whom was in the army, had sent him\nmoney, that his daughter in America had given him the jewelry, and that\nthe gold he had had by him for several years, it had been given him by\na widow, who was dead. The silver watch he had bought in Frankfort.\nHenry Stauff had a daughter at home, name Anna Margaretta, who often\nreceived letters from Darmstadt. One of these letters had not been\nstamped, and as she declined to pay double for it, it lay in the\npost-office till opened to be returned. Then it was found to be dated\nSeptember 29, 1847, and to be from her brother, John Stauff. It simply\ncontained an inclosure to her father; this was opened; it contained an\nangry remonstrance with him for not having done what he was required,\nand sent the money at once to the writer.\n\nWas it possible that this had reference to the disposal of the jewelry?\n\nOn July 7, three weeks after the death of the Countess, Henry Stauff was\nat Darmstadt, where one son, Jacob, was in the army; the other, John,\nwas in service with the Goerlitz family.\n\nThis led the magistrates in Cassel to communicate with those in\nDarmstadt. On November 10, John Stauff was questioned with reference to\nhis father. He said he had often sent him money. He was shown the\njewelry, and asked if he recognised it. He denied having ever seen it,\nand having sent it to his father.\n\nThe jewelry was shown to Count Goerlitz, and he immediately identified\nit as having belonged to his wife. A former lady's-maid of the Countess\nalso identified the articles. The Count, and a maid, asserted that these\narticles had always been kept by the deceased lady in the small upper\ndrawers of her secretaire. The Countess was vain and miserly, and often\nlooked over her jewelry. She would, certainly, have missed her things\nhad they been stolen before June 13.\n\nThe articles had not been stolen since, found among the ashes, and\ncarried off surreptitiously, for they showed no trace of fire.\n\nHere we must again remark on the extraordinary character of the\nproceedings in this case. The articles were identified and shown to John\nStauff on November 10, 1847, but it was not till ten months after, on\nAugust 28, 1848, that he was told that he was suspected of the murder of\nthe Countess, and of having robbed her of these ornaments. Another of\nthe eccentricities of the administration of justice in Darmstadt\nconsisted in allowing the father Henry, and his son John, to have free\nprivate communication with each other, whilst the latter was in prison,\nand thus allowing them to concoct together a plausible account of their\nconduct, with which, however, we need not trouble ourselves.\n\nOn September 1, 1848, on the fourth day after Stauff knew that he was\ncharged with the murder of the Countess, he asked to make his statement\nof what really took place. This was the account he gave. It will be seen\nthat, from the moment he knew the charge of murder was brought against\nhim, he altered his defence.\n\nHe said, \"On June 20, 1847,\" (that is, a week after the murder), \"about\nten o'clock in the evening, after the Count had partaken of his supper\nand undressed, he brought me a box containing jewelry, and told me he\nwould give it to me, as I was so poor, and that it would place my father\nand me in comfortable circumstances. I then told the Count that I did\nnot know what to do with these jewels, whereupon he exhorted me to send\nthem to my father, and get him to dispose of them. He told me that he\nrequired me solemnly to swear that I would not tell anyone about the\njewels. I hid the box in a stocking and concealed it in some bushes on\nthe Bessungen road. Later I told my brother Jacob where they were, and\nbade him give them to my father on his visit to Darmstadt.\"\n\nWhen Stauff was asked what reason he could assign for the Count giving\nhim the jewels, he said that the Count saw that he, John Stauff,\nsuspected him of the murder, and he named several circumstances, such as\nobserving blood on the Count's handkerchief on the evening of the\nmurder, which had led him to believe that the Count was guilty, and the\nCount was aware of his suspicions.\n\nOn March 4, 1850, began the trial of John Stauff for the murder of the\nCountess, for robbery, for arson, and for attempt to poison the Count.\n\nAt the same time his father, Henry Stauff, and his brother, Jacob\nStauff, were tried for concealment of stolen goods. The trial came to an\nend on April 11. As many as 118 witnesses were heard; among these was\nthe Count Goerlitz, as to whose innocence no further doubts were\nentertained.\n\nJohn Stauff was at that time aged twenty-six, he was therefore\ntwenty-four years old at the time of the murder. He had been at school\nat Oberohmen, where he had shown himself an apt and intelligent scholar.\nIn 1844 he had entered the grand-ducal army, and in May 1846 had become\nservant in the Goerlitz house, as footman to the Countess. In his\nregiment he had behaved well; he had been accounted an excellent\nservant, and both his master and mistress placed confidence in him.\nCuriously enough, in the autumn of 1846, he had expressed a wish to a\nchambermaid of the Countess \"that both the Countess and her pack of\njewels, bracelets and all, might be burnt in one heap.\"\n\nWhen the maid heard of the death of the Countess in the following year,\n\"Ah!\" she said, \"now Stauff's wish has been fulfilled to the letter.\"\n\nHe was fond of talking of religion, and had the character among his\nfellow-servants of being pious. He was, however, deep in debt, and\nassociated with women of bad character. Throughout the trial he\nmaintained his composure, his lips closed, his colour pale, without\ntoken of agitation. But the man who could have stood by without showing\nemotion at the opening of the coffin of his mistress, at the sight of\nthe half-burnt, half-decomposed remains of his victim, must have had\npowers of self-control of no ordinary description. During the trial he\nseemed determined to show that he was a man of some culture; he\nexhibited ease of manner and courtesy towards judges, jury, and lawyers.\nHe never interrupted a witness, and when he questioned them, did so with\nintelligence and moderation. He often looked at the public, especially\nthe women, who attended in great numbers, watching the effect of the\nevidence on their minds. When, as now and then happened, some ludicrous\nincident occurred, he laughed over it as heartily as the most innocent\nlooker-on.\n\nThe jury unanimously found him \"guilty\" on every count. They\nunanimously gave a verdict of \"guilty\" against his father and brother.\nHenry Stauff was sentenced to six months' imprisonment; Jacob Stauff to\ndetention for three months, and John to imprisonment for life. At that\ntime capital punishment could not be inflicted in Hesse.\n\nOn June 3, he was taken to the convict prison of Marienschloss. On July\n1, he appealed to the Grand-Duke to give him a free pardon, as he was\ninnocent of the crimes for which he was sentenced. The appeal was\nrejected. Then he professed his intention of making full confession. He\nasked to see the Count. He professed himself a broken-hearted penitent,\ndesirous of undoing, by a sincere confession, as much of the evil as was\npossible.\n\nWe will give his confession in his own words.\n\n\"When, at five o'clock, I went to announce to the Countess that I was\nabout to go to the palace, I found both the glass door of the ante-room,\nand that into the sitting-room, open, and I walked in through them. I\ndid not find the Countess in her parlour, of which the curtains were\ndrawn. Nor was she in her boudoir. I saw the door into the little corner\nroom ajar, so I presumed she was in there. The flap of her desk was\ndown, so that I saw the little drawers, in which I knew she kept her\nvaluables, accessible to my hand. Opportunity makes the thief. I was\nunable to resist the temptation to enrich myself by these precious\narticles. I opened one of the drawers, took out a gold bracelet, one of\ngold filigree, two of bronze, a pair of gold ear-rings, a gold brooch,\nand a triple chain of beads or Roman pearls; and pocketed these\narticles, which my father afterwards had, and, for the most part, melted\nup.\n\n\"Most of these articles were in their cases. At that moment the Countess\nappeared on the threshold of her boudoir and rushed towards me. I do not\nremember what she exclaimed; fear for the consequences, and anxiety to\nprevent the Countess from making a noise and calling assistance, and\nthereby obtaining my arrest, prevailed in my mind, and I thought only\nhow I might save myself. I grasped her by the neck, and pressed my\nthumbs into her throat. She struggled desperately. I was obliged to use\nall my strength to hold her. After a wrestle of between five and seven\nminutes, her eyes closed, her face became purple, and I felt her limbs\nrelax.\n\n\"When I saw she was dead I was overcome with terror. I let the body\nfall, whereby the head struck the corner of the left side of the\nsecretaire, and this made a wound which began to bleed. Then I ran and\nlocked both the doors, hid what I had taken in my bed, and left the\nhouse. On my way to the palace, I stepped into Frey's tavern and drank\nthree glasses of wine. I was afraid I should arrive too late at the\npalace, where I appeared, however, at half-past five. The Count did not\nreturn till half-past six, as dinner that day lasted rather longer than\nusual.\n\n\"When the Count went upstairs to see his wife and take her something\ngood he had brought away with him from table, I was not uneasy at all,\nfor I knew that he would knock and come away if he met with no response.\nSo he did. He came down without being discomposed, and remarked that he\nfancied the Countess had gone out. At half-past seven he left the house.\nIn the mean time I had been considering what to do, and had formed my\nplan. Now my opportunity had arrived, and I hastened to put it into\nexecution. My plan was to efface every trace of my deed by fire, and to\ncommit suicide if interrupted.\n\n\"As the weather was chilly, the Count had some fire in his stove. I\nfetched the still glowing charcoal, collected splinters of firwood and\nother combustibles, and matches, and went upstairs with them. Only the\nwine sustained me through what I carried out. I took up the body. I put\na chair before the open desk, seated the corpse on it, placed one arm on\nthe desk, laid the head on the arm, so that the body reposed in a\nposition of sleep, leaning on the flap of the desk. I threw the red hot\ncharcoal down under the head, heaped matches, paper, and wood splinters\nover them; took one of the blazing bits of wood and threw it on the\ndivan in the boudoir; locked both doors, and flung away the keys.\n\n\"Then I went to my own room and lighted a fire in the stove, and put the\njewel cases on the fire. The fire would not burn well, and thick smoke\ncame into the room. Then I saw that the damper was closed. I opened\nthat, and the smoke flew up the chimney; this is what Colonel von\nStockhausen saw. There were a lot of empty match-boxes also in the\nstove, and these burnt with the rest.\"\n\nSuch was the confession of Stauff. How far true, it is impossible to\nsay. He said nothing about the bell-pull being torn down, nothing about\nthe holes burnt in the sofa of the sitting-room. According to the\nopinion of some experimentalists, the way in which he pretended to have\nburnt the Countess would not account for the appearance of the corpse.\n\nHis object was to represent himself as the victim of an over-mastering\ntemptation--to show that the crime was wholly unpremeditated.\n\nThis was the sole plea on which he could appeal for sympathy, and expect\na relaxation of his sentence.\n\nThat sentence was relaxed.\n\nIn 1872 he obtained a free pardon from the Grand-Duke, on condition that\nhe left the country and settled in America. Including his imprisonment\nbefore his trial, he had, therefore, undergone twenty-five years of\nincarceration.\n\nWhen released he went to America, where he probably still is.\n\n\n\n\nA War-and-Honey-Moon.\n\n\nIn the history of Selenography, John Henry Maedler holds a distinguished\nplace. He was the very first to publish a large map of the lunar\nsurface; and his map was a good one, very accurate, and beautifully\nexecuted, in four sheets (1834-6). For elucidation of this map he wrote\na book concerning the moon, entitled \"The Universal Selenography.\" Not\ncontent with this, he published a second map of the moon in 1837,\nembodying fresh discoveries. Indeed as an astronomer, Maedler was a\nspecialist. Lord Dufferin when in Iceland met a German naturalist who\nhad gone to that inclement island to look for one moth. It is of the\nnature of Teutonic scientific men not to diffuse their interests over\nmany branches of natural history or other pursuits, but to focus them on\na single point. Maedler was comparatively indifferent to the planets,\ncold towards the comets, and callous to the attractions of the nebul\u00e6.\nOn the subject of the moon, he was a sheer lunatic.\n\nHe died at Hanover in 1874 at the age of eighty, a moon gazer to the\nlast. Indeed, he appeared before the public as the historian of that\nscience in a work published at Brunswick, the year previous to his\ndeath. The study of astronomy, more than any other,--even than\ntheology--detaches a man from the world and its interests. Indeed\ntheology as a study has a tendency to ruffle a man, and make him bark\nand snap at his fellow men who use other telescopes than himself; it is\nnot so with astronomy. This science exercises a soothing influence on\nthose who make it their study, so that an Adams and a Le Verrier can\nsimultaneously discover a Neptune without flying at each other's noses.\n\nAstronomy is certainly an alluring science; set an astronomer before a\ntelescope, and an overwhelming attraction draws his soul away through\nthe tube up into heaven, and leaves his body without mundane interests.\nAn astronomer is necessarily a mathematician, and mathematics are the\nhardest and most petrifying of studies. The \"humane letters,\" as classic\nstudies are called, draw out the human interests, they necessarily carry\nmen among men, but mathematics draw men away from all the interests of\ntheir fellows. The last man one expects to find in love, the last man in\nwhose life one looks for a romantic episode, is a mathematician and\nastronomer. But as even C\u00e6sar nods, so an astronomer may lapse into\nspooning. The life of Professor Maedler does not contain much of\nanimated interest; but it had its poetic incident. The curious story of\nhis courtship and marriage may be related without indiscretion, now that\nthe old Selenographer is no more.\n\nEven the most prosaic of men have their time of poetry. The swan is said\nto sing only once--just before it dies. The man of business--the\nstockbroker, the insurance-company manager, the solicitor, banker, the\nironmonger, butcher, greengrocer, postman, have all passed through a\n\"moment,\" as Hegel would call it, when the soul burst through its rind\nof common-place and vulgar routine, sang its nightingale song, and then\nwas hushed for ever after. It is said that there are certain flowers\nwhich take many years coming to the point of bloom, they open, exhale a\nflood of incense, and in an hour wither. It is so with many. Even the\nastronomer has his blooming time. Then, after the honeymoon, the flower\nwithers, the song ceases, the sunshine fades, and folds of the fog of\ncommon-place settle deeper than before.\n\nIvan Turgenieff, the Russian novelist, says of love, \"It is not an\nemotion, it is a malady, attacking soul and body. It is developed\nwithout rule, it cannot be reckoned with, it cannot be overreached. It\nlays hold of a man, without asking leave, like a fever or the cholera.\nIt seizes on its prey as a falcon on a dove, and carries it, where it\nwills. There is no equality in love. The so-termed free inclination of\nsouls towards each other is an idle dream of German professors, who have\nnever loved. No! of two who love, one is the slave, the other is the\nlord, and not inaccurately have the poets told of the chains of love.\"\n\nBut love when it does lay hold of a man assumes some features congruent\nto his natural habit. It is hardly tempestuous in a phlegmatic\ntemperament, nor is a man of sanguine nature liable to be much\ninfluenced by calculations of material advantages. That calculations\nshould form a constituent portion of the multiform web of a\nmathematician's passion is what we might anticipate.\n\nIt will be interesting to see in a German professor devoted to the\nseverest, most abstract and super-mundane of studies, the appearance,\ncourse, and dying away of the \"malady\" of love. We almost believe that\nthis case is so easy of analysis that the very _bacillus_ may be\ndiscovered.\n\nBefore, however, we come to the story of Professor Maedler's love\nepisode, we must say a word about his previous history.\n\nMaedler was born at Berlin on May 29th, 1794, in the very month of love,\nthough at its extreme end. He began life as a schoolmaster, but soared\nin his leisure hours into a purer atmosphere than that of the\nschoolroom; he began to study the stars, and found them brighter and\nmore interesting than the heads of his pupils.\n\nIn 1828 William Beer, the Berlin banker, brother of the great composer,\nMeyerbeer, a Jew, built a small observatory in the suburbs of Berlin. He\nhad made the acquaintance of Maedler, they had the same love of the\nstars, and they became close friends.\n\nThe Beers were a gifted family, running out in different directions.\nMichael, a third brother, was a poet, and wrote tragedies, one or two of\nwhich occasionally reappear on the boards.\n\nThe result of the nightly star gazings was an article on Mars when in\nopposition, with a drawing of the surface as it appeared to Beer and\nMaedler, through the telescope of the former.\n\nBut Mars did not admit of much further scrutiny, it presented no more\nproblems they were capable of solving, so they devoted themselves to the\nmoon. A gourmand exists from dinner to dinner, that meal is the climax\nof his vitality, that past he lapses into inertness, indifference,\nquiescence. Full moon was the exciting moment of the periods in\nMaedler's life, which was divided, not like a gourmand's day, into\nperiods of twenty-four hours, but into lunar months. When the moon began\nto show, Maedler began to live; his interest, the pulses of his life\nquickened as full moon approached, then declined and went to sleep when\nthere was no lunar disc in the sky. From 1834 to 1836 he issued his\ngreat map of the moon, and so made his name. But beyond that, in the\nsummer of 1833 he was employed by the Russian Government on a\nchronometrical expedition in the Baltic.\n\nWhen his map came out, he was at once secured by the Prussian Government\nas assistant astronomer to the observatory at Berlin, recently erected.\nIn 1840 he became a professor, and was summoned to take charge of the\nobservatory, and lecture on astronomy, in the Russian University of\nDorpat. There he spent six uneventful years. He was unmarried,\nindifferent to female society, and as cold as his beloved moon. He was\nas solitary, as far removed from the ideas of love and matrimony, as the\nMan in the Moon.\n\nAt last, one vacation time, he paid a long deferred visit to a friend, a\nSelenologist, at Gr\u00f6ningen, the University of the Kingdom of Hanover.\nWhilst smoking, drinking beer, and talking over the craters and luminous\nstreaks in the moon, with his friend, who was also a professor, that\ngentleman drew his pipe from his mouth, blew a long spiral from between\nhis lips, and then said slowly, \"By the way, professor, are you aware\nthat we have here, in this kingdom, not, indeed, in Gr\u00f6ningen, but in\nthe town of Hanover, a lady, the wife of the Herr Councillor Witte, who\nis, like yourself, devoted to the moon; a lady, who spends entire nights\non the roof of her house peering at the face of the moon through one\nend--the smaller--of her telescope, observing all the prominences,\nmeasuring their altitudes, and sounding all the cavities. Indeed, it is\nasserted that she studies the face and changes of the moon much more\nclosely than the features and moods of her husband. Also, it is\nasserted, that when the moon is shining, the household duties are\nneglected, the dinners are bad, the maids--\"\n\n\"O dinners! maids! you need not consider them; there are always dinners\nand maids,\" said the Dorpat astronomer contemptuously, \"but the moon is\nseen so comparatively rarely. The moon must be made much of when she\nshows. Everything must then be sacrificed to her.\"\n\nDr. Maedler did not call the moon _she_, but _he_; however, we are\nwriting in English, not in German, so we change the gender.\n\nThe Astronomer Royal of the University of Gr\u00f6ningen went on, without\nnoticing the interruption: \"Frau von Witte has spent a good deal of her\nhusband's money in getting the largest procurable telescope, and has\nbuilt an observatory for it with a dome that revolves on cannon balls,\non the top of her house. Whilst Herr von Witte slumbers and snores\nbeneath, like a Philistine, his enlightened lady is aloft, studying the\nmoon. The Frau Councilloress has done more than observe Luna, she has\ndone more than you and Beer together, with your maps--she has modelled\nit.\"\n\n\"Modelled it!--modelled the moon!--in what?\"\n\n\"In white wax.\"\n\nProfessor Maedler's countenance fell. He had gained great renown, not in\nGermany only, but throughout Europe by his maps of the moon. Here was an\nunknown lady, as enthusiastic a devotee to the satellite as himself, who\nhad surpassed him. \"You see,\" continued the Hanoverian professor, \"the\nidea is superb, the undertaking colossal. You have a fixed strong light,\nyou make the wax moon to revolve on its axis, and you reproduce in the\nmost surprising and exact manner, all the phases of the moon itself.\"\n\nThis was indeed an idea. Maedler looked at his hands, his fingers. Would\nthey be capable of modelling such a globe? Hardly, he had very broad\ncoarse hands, and thick flat fingers, like paddles. He suddenly stood\nup.\n\n\"What is the matter? Whither are you going?\" asked his friend.\n\n\"To Hanover, to Frau Witte, to see the wax moon.\" No persuasion would\nrestrain him, he was in a selenological fever, he could not sleep, he\ncould not eat, he could not read, he must see the wax moon.\n\nAnd now, pray observe the craft of Cupid. The professor was aged\nfifty-two. In vain had the damsels of Berlin and Dorpat set their caps\nat him. Not a blonde beauty of Saxon race with blue eyes had caught his\nfancy, not a dark Russian with large hazel eyes and thick black hair,\nhad arrested his attention. His heart had been given to the cold, chaste\nDiana. It was, with him, the reverse of the tale of Endymion.\n\nHe had written a treatise on the occultation of Mars, he had described\nthe belts of Saturn, he had even measured his waist. Venus he had\nneglected, and now Cupid was about to avenge the slight passed on his\nmother. There was but one avenue by which access might be had to the\nprofessor's heart. The God of Love knew it, and resolved to storm the\ncitadel through this avenue. Dr. Maedler packed his trunk himself in the\nway in which unmarried men and abstract thinkers do pack their\nportmanteaus. He bundled all his clothes in together, higglety-pigglety.\nThe only bit of prudence he showed was to put the pomatum pot into a\nstocking. His collars he curled up in the legs of his boots. Copies of\nhis astronomical pamphlets for presentation, lay in layers between his\nshirts. Then as the trunk would not close, the Professor of Astronomy\nsat down heavily on it, stood up, then sharply sat down on it again, and\nrepeated this operation, till coats, trousers, linen, pamphlets, brushes\nand combs had been crushed together into one cohesive mass, and so the\nlock would fasten.\n\nNo sooner was Dr. Maedler arrived at his inn in Hanover, and had dusted\nthe collar of his coat, and revolved before the _gar\u00e7on_ who went over\nhim with a clothes brush, revolved like the moon he loved, than he\nsallied forth in quest of the house of the Wittes. There was no\nmistaking it--with the domed observatory on the roof.\n\nDr. Maedler stood in the square, looking up at it. The sight of an\nobservatory touched him; and now, hard and dry as he was, moisture came\ninto his eyes, as he thought that there, on that elevated station, an\nadmirable woman spent her nights in the contemplation of the moon. What\nwas Moses on Pisgah, viewing the Promised Land, what was Simeon Stylites\nbraving storm and cold, to this spectacle?\n\nNever before had the astronomer met with one of the weaker sex who cared\na button for the moon, _qua_ moon, and not as a convenience for\nillumining lovers' meetings, or for an allusion in a valentine. Here was\nan heroic soul which surged, positively surged above the frivolities of\nher sex, one who aspired to be the rival of man in intelligence and love\nof scientific research.\n\nProfessor Maedler sent in his card, and a letter of introduction from\nhis friend at Gr\u00f6ningen, and was at once admitted. He had formed an\nideal picture of the Selenographic lady, tall, worn with night watching,\nwith an arched brow, large, clear eyes. He found her a fat little woman,\nwith a face as round and as flat as that of the moon, not by any means\npale, but red as the moon in a fog.\n\nThe lady was delighted to make the acquaintance of so renowned an\nastronomer. She made him pretty speeches about his map, at the same time\nletting him understand that a map was all very well, but she knew of\nsomething better. Then she launched out into a criticism of his\npamphlets on Mars and Saturn, on which, as it happened, he was then\nsitting. He had put a crumpled copy in each of his tail-coat pockets for\nan offering, and was now doubly crumpling them. Then she asked his\nopinion about the revolution and orbit of Biela's comet, which had been\nseen the preceding year. Next she carried him to Hencke's recently\ndiscovered planet, Astr\u00e6a; after that she dashed away, away with him to\nthe nebul\u00e6, and sought to resolve them with his aid. Then down they\nwhirled together through space to the sun, and the luminous red\nprotuberances observable at an eclipse. Another step, and they were\nplunging down to earth, had reached it in safety, and were discussing\nLord Rosse's recently erected telescope. It was like Dante and Beatrix,\nwith this difference, that Maedler was not a poet, and Frau Witte was a\nmarried woman.\n\nThe Professor was uneasy. Charming as is a telescope, delightful as is\nthe sun, fascinating as Astr\u00e6a may be, still, the moon, the moon was\nwhat he had come to discuss, and wax moon what he had come to see.\n\nSo he exercised all his skill, and with great dialectic ability\nconducted his Beatrix away on another round. They gave the fixed stars a\nwide berth, dived in and out among the circling planets and planetoids\nwithout encountering one, avoided the comets, kept their feet off\nnebulous matter, and at last he planted his companion firmly on the\nmoon, and when there, there he held her.\n\nTo her words of commendation of his lunar map, he replied by expressing\nhis astonishment at her knowledge of the several craters and so-called\nseas. Presently Frau Witte rose with a smile, and said, \"Herr Professor,\nI may, perhaps, be allowed to exhibit a trifle on which I have been\nengaged for many years:--an independent work that I have compared with,\nbut not copied from, your excellent selenic map.\"\n\nThe doctor's heart fluttered; his eyes brightened; a hectic flush came\ninto his cheeks.\n\nFrau Witte took a key and led the way to her study, where she threw open\na mahogany cupboard, and exposed to view something very much like a meat\ncover. This also she removed, it was composed of the finest silk\nstretched on a frame, and exposed to view--the wax moon.\n\nThe globe was composed of the purest white beeswax, it stood upon a\nsteel needle that passed through it, and rested on pivots, so that the\nglobe was held up and held firm, and could be easily made to revolve.\nFrau Witte closed the shutters, leaving open only one orifice through\nwhich the light could penetrate and fall on the wax ball.\n\nThe doctor raised his hands in admiration. Never had he seen anything\nthat so delighted him. The globe's surface had been most delicately\nmanipulated. The mountains were pinched into peaks, the hollows indented\nto the requisite depth, the craters were rendered with extraordinary\nprecision, the stri\u00e6 being indicated by insertions of other tinted wax.\nA shadow hung sombre over the mysterious Sea of Storms.\n\nProfessor Maedler returned to his hotel a prey to emotion. He inquired\nthe address of a certain Rollmann, whom he had known in former years at\nBerlin, and who was now professor in the Polytechnic school at Hanover.\nThen he rushed off in quest of Rollmann. The Polytechnic Professor was\ndelighted to see his friend, but disturbed at the condition of mind in\nwhich he found him.\n\n\"What has brought you to Hanover, dear Professor?\" he asked.\n\n\"The moon! the moon! I have come after the moon.\"\n\n\"The moon! How can that be? She shines over Dorpat as surely as over our\nroofs in Hanover.\"\n\n\"I've just seen her.\"\n\n\"Impossible. The moon is new. Besides, it is broad daylight.\"\n\n\"New! of course she is new. Only made lately.\"\n\nProfessor Rollman was puzzled.\n\n\"The moon is certainly as old as the world, and even if we give the\nworld so limited an age as four thousand years--\"\n\n\"I was not allowed to touch her, scarcely to breathe near her,\"\ninterrupted Maedler.\n\n\"My dear colleague, what is the matter with you? You are--what do you\nsay, seen, touched, breathed on the moon? The distance of the moon from\nthe earth is two hundred and forty thousand miles.\"\n\n\"Not the old moon--I mean the other.\"\n\n\"There is no other, that is, not another satellite to this world. I am\nwell aware that Jupiter has four moons, two of which are smaller than\nthe planet Mars. I know also that Mars--\"\n\n\"My dear Rollman, there is another--here in Hanover.\"\n\n\"I give it up, I cannot understand.\"\n\n\"Happy Hanover to possess such an unique treasure,\" continued the\nexcited Maedler, \"and such a woman as Frau Witte.\"\n\n\"Oh! her wax moon!\" said Rollmann, with a sigh of relief.\n\n\"Of what else could I speak?\"\n\n\"So you have seen that. The old lady is very proud of her performance.\"\n\n\"She has cause to be proud of it. It is simply superb.\"\n\n\"And the sight of it has nearly sent you off your head!\"\n\n\"Rollmann! what will become of that model? Frau Councilloress Witte will\nnot live for ever. She is old, puffy, and red, and might have apoplexy\nany day. Is her husband an astronomer?\"\n\n\"O dear no! he regards astronomy as as unprofitable a study as\nastrology. It is quite as expensive a pursuit, he says.\"\n\n\"Merciful heavens! Suppose she were to predecease--he would have the\nmoon, and be unable to appreciate it. He might let it get dusty, have\nthe craters and seas choked; perhaps the mountain-tops knocked off. He\nmust not have it.\"\n\n\"It cannot be helped. The moon must take its chance.\"\n\n\"It must not be. She _must_ outlive the Councillor.\"\n\n\"If you can manage that--well.\"\n\n\"But--supposing she does outlive him, she is not immortal. Some day she\nmust die. Who will have the moon then?\"\n\n\"I suppose, her daughter.\"\n\n\"What will the daughter do with it?\"\n\n\"Melt it up for waxing the floors.\"\n\nProfessor Maedler uttered a cry of dismay.\n\n\"The object is one of incalculable scientific value. Has the daughter no\nhusband, a man of intelligence, to stay her hand?\"\n\n\"The daughter is unmarried. There was some talk of a theological\ncandidate--\"\n\n\"A theological candidate! An embryo pastor! Just powers! These men are\nall obscurantists. He will melt up the moon thinking thereby to\nestablish the authority of Moses.\"\n\n\"That came to nothing. She is disengaged.\"\n\nProfessor Maedler paced the room. Perspiration bedewed his brow. He\nwiped his forehead, more drops formed. Suddenly he stood still.\n\"Rollmann,\" he said, in a hollow voice, \"I must--I will have that moon,\neven if I have to marry the daughter to secure it.\"\n\n\"By all means. Minna is a pleasant young lady.\"\n\n\"Minna! Minna! is that her name?\" asked the distracted professor; then,\nmore coolly, \"I do not care a rush what her name is. I want, not her,\nbut the moon.\"\n\n\"She is no longer in the bloom of early youth.\"\n\n\"She is an exhausted world; a globe of volcanic cinder.\"\n\n\"She is of real solid worth.\"\n\n\"Solid--she is of solid wax--white beeswax.\"\n\n\"If she becomes yours--\"\n\n\"I will exhibit her at my lectures to the students.\"\n\n\"As you are so much older, some provision will have to be made in the\nevent of your death.\"\n\n\"I will leave her to the Dorpat museum, with directions to the curator\nto keep the dust off her.\"\n\n\"My dear Professor Maedler, I am speaking of the young lady, _you_ of\nthe moon.\"\n\n\"Ah so! I had forgotten the incumbrance. Yes, I will marry the moon. I\nwill carry her about with me, hug her in my arms, protect her most\ncarefully from the fingers of the Custom House officers. I will procure\nan ukase from the Emperor to admit her unfingered over the frontier.\"\n\n\"And Minna!\"\n\n\"What Minna?\"\n\n\"The young lady.\"\n\n\"Ah so! She had slipped out of my reckoning. She shall watch the box\nwhilst I sleep, and whilst she sleeps I will keep guard.\"\n\n\"Be reasonable, Maedler. Do you mean, in sober earnest, to invite Minna\nWitte to be your wife?\"\n\n\"If I cannot get the moon any other way.\"\n\n\"But you have not even seen her yet.\"\n\n\"What does that matter? I have seen the moon.\"\n\n\"And you are in earnest!\"\n\n\"I _will_ have the moon.\"\n\n\"Then, of course, you will have to propose.\"\n\n\"I propose!\"\n\n\"And, of course, to make love.\"\n\n\"I make love!\"\n\nProfessor Maedler's colour died away. He stood still before his friend,\nhis pocket-handkerchief in hand, and stared.\n\n\"I have not the remotest idea how to do it.\"\n\n\"You must try.\"\n\n\"I've had no experience. I am going on to fifty-three. As well ask me\nto dance on the trapeze. It is not proper. It is downright indecent.\"\n\n\"Then you must do without the wax moon.\"\n\n\"I cannot do without the wax moon.\"\n\n\"Then, there is no help for it, you must make love to and propose to the\nfair Minna.\"\n\n\"Friend,\" said the\nRussian-imperial-professor-of-astronomy-of-the-University-of-Dorpat, as\nhe clasped Rollmann's hand. \"You are experienced in the ways of the\nworld. I have lived in an observatory, and associated only with fixed\nstars, revolving moons, and comets. Tell me how to do it, and I will\nobey as a lamb.\"\n\n\"You will have to sigh.\"\n\n\"O! I can do that.\"\n\n\"And ogle the lady.\"\n\n\"Ogle!--when going fifty-three!\"\n\n\"Learn a few lines of poetry.\"\n\n\"Yes, Milton's Paradise Lost. Go on.\"\n\n\"Tell the young lady that your heart is consumed with love.\"\n\n\"Consumed with love, yes, go on.\"\n\n\"Squeeze her hand.\"\n\n\"I cannot! That I cannot!\" gasped Professor Maedler. \"Look at my\nwhiskers. They are grey. There is a point beyond which I cannot go.\nRollmann, why may I not settle it all with the mother, and let you court\nthe young lady for me by proxy.\"\n\n\"No, no, you must do it yourself.\"\n\n\"I would not be jealous. Consider, I care nothing for the young girl. It\nis the moon I want. That you shall not touch or breathe on.\"\n\n\"My dear Maedler, you and I are sure to be invited to dine with the\nfamily on Sunday. After dinner we will take a stroll in the garden.\nDuring dinner mind and be attentive to Miss Minna, and feed her with\nhoneyed words. When we visit the garden I will tackle the mother, as\nMephistopheles engages Martha, and you, you gay Faust, will have to be\nthe gallant to Minna.\"\n\n\"My good Rollmann! I dislike the simile. It offends me. Consider my age,\nmy whiskers, my position at the Dorpat University, my map of the moon in\nfour sheets, my paper on the occultation of Mars.\"\n\n\"Pay attention to me, if you want your wax globe. Frau Witte, the\nCouncillor and I will sit drinking coffee in the arbour. You ask Minna\nto show you the garden. When you are gone I will begin at once with the\nmother, praise you, and say how comfortably you are provided for at\nDorpat, laud your good qualities, and bring her to understand that you\nare a suitor for the hand of her daughter. Meanwhile press your cause\nwith ardour.\"\n\n\"With ardour! I shall not be able to get up any warmth.\"\n\n\"Think of the wax moon! direct your raptures to that.\"\n\n\"This is all very well,\" said Maedler fretfully, \"but you have forgotten\nthe main thing. I know you will make a mistake. You have asked for the\nhand of the daughter, and said nothing about the moon.\"\n\n\"Do not be concerned.\"\n\n\"But I am concerned. It would be a pretty mischief if I got the\ndaughter's hand instead of the face of the moon.\"\n\n\"I will manage that you have what you want. But the moon must not rise\nover the matrimonial scene till the preliminaries are settled. I will\nrepresent to the old lady what credit will accrue to her if her moon be\nexhibited and lectured on at the Dorpat University by so distinguished\nan astronomer as yourself. Then, be well assured, she will give you the\nwax moon along with her daughter.\"\n\n\"Very well, I will do what I can. Only, further, explain to me the whole\nprocess, that I may learn it by heart. It seems to me as knotty to a\nbeginner as Euler's proof of the Binomial Theorem.\"\n\n\"It is very easy. Pay attention. You must begin to talk about the\nfascination which a domestic life exerts on you; you then say that the\nsight of such an united household as that in which you find yourself\ninfluences you profoundly.\"\n\n\"I see. Causes a deflection in my perihelion. That deflection is\ncalculable, the force excited calculable, the position of the attractive\nbody estimable. I direct my telescope in the direction, and\ndiscover--Minna. Put astronomically, I can understand it.\"\n\n\"But you must _not_ put it astronomically to her. Paint in glowing tints\nthe charms of the domestic hearth--that is to say, of the stove. Touch\nsadly on your forlorn condition, your unloved heart--are you paying\nattention, or thinking of the moon?\"\n\n\"On the contrary, I was thinking of myself, from a planetary point of\nview. I see, a wife is a satellite revolving round her man. I see it\nall now. Jupiter has four.\"\n\n\"Sigh; let the corners of your mouth droop. Throw, if you can, an\nemotional vibration into your tones, and say that hitherto life has been\nto you a school, where you have been set hard tasks; not a home. Here\nshake your head slowly, drop a tear if you can, and say again, in a low\nand thrilling voice, 'Not a home!' Now for the poetry. Till now, you\nadd, you have looked into the starry vault--\"\n\n\"It is not a vault at all.\"\n\n\"Never mind; say this. Till now you have looked into the starry vault\nfor your heaven, and not dreamed that a heaven full of peaceful lights\nwas twinkling invitingly about your feet. That is poetical, is it not?\nIt must succeed.\"\n\n\"Quite so, I should never have thought of it.\"\n\n\"Then turn, and look into Miss Minna's eyes.\"\n\n\"But suppose she is looking in another direction?\"\n\n\"She will not be. A lady is always ready to help a stumbling lover over\nthe impediments in the way of a declaration. She will have her eyes at\ncommand, ready to meet yours.\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"You will presently come to a rose tree. You must stop there and be\nsilent. Then you must admire the roses, and beg Miss Minna to present\nyou with one.\"\n\n\"But I do not want any roses. What can I do with them? I am lodging at\nan hotel.\"\n\n\"Never mind, you _must_ want one. When she has picked and offered it--\"\n\n\"But perhaps she will not.\"\n\n\"Fiddlesticks! Of course she will. Then take the rose, press your lips\nto it, and burst forth into raptures.\"\n\n\"Excuse me, how am I to do the raptures?\"\n\n\"Think of the wax moon, man. Exclaim, 'Oh that I might take the fair\nMinna, fairer than this rose, to my heart, as I apply this flower to my\nbuttonhole!'\"\n\n\"Shall I say nothing about the wax moon?\"\n\n\"Not a word. Leave me to manage that.\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"Then she will look down, confused, at the gravel, and stammer. Press\nher for a Yes or No. Promise to destroy yourself if she says No. Take\nher hand and squeeze it.\"\n\n\"Must I squeeze it? About how much pressure to the square-foot should I\napply?\"\n\n\"Then say, 'Come, let us go to your parents, and obtain their blessing.'\nThe thing is done.\"\n\n\"But suppose she were to say No?\"\n\nRollmann stamped with impatience. \"I tell you she will not say No, now\nthat the theological candidate has dropped through.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Professor Maedler, \"I must go along with it, now I have\nmade up my mind to it. But, on my word, as an exact reasoner, I had no\nidea of the difficulties men have to go through to get married. Why, the\ncalculation of the deflections of the planets is nothing to it. And the\nGrand Turk, like Jupiter, has more satellites than one!\"\n\nA few months after the incident above recorded Professor Maedler\nreturned to Dorpat, not alone; with him was the Frau\nProfessorinn--Minna. Everything had gone off in the garden as Rollmann\nhad planned.\n\nThe moon and Minna, or Minna and the moon, put it which way you will,\nwere secured.\n\nWhen the Professor arrived at Dorpat with his wife, the students gave\nhim an ovation after the German style, that is to say, they organized a\nFackel-zug, or torch-light procession.\n\nThree hundred young men, some wearing white caps, some green caps, some\nred, and some purple, marched along the street headed by a band, bearing\ntorches of twisted tow steeped in tar, blazing and smoking, or, to be\nmore exact, smoking and blazing. Each corps was followed by a hired\ndroschky, in which sat the captain and stewards of the white, red,\ngreen, or purple corps, with sashes of their respective colours. Behind\nthe last corps followed the elephants, two and two. By elephants is not\nmeant the greatest of quadrupeds, but the smallest esteemed of the\nstudents, those who belong to no corps.\n\nThe whole procession gathered before the house of the Professor, and\nbrandished their torches and cheered. Then the glass door opening on the\nbalcony was thrown back, and the Professor John Henry Maedler appeared\non the balcony leading forth his wife. The astronomer looked younger\nthan he had been known to look for the last twenty years. His whiskers\nin the torchlight looked not grey, but red. The eyes, no longer blear\nwith star-gazing, watered with sentiment. His expression was no longer\nthat of a man troubled with integral calculus, but of a man in an\necstasy. He waved his hand. Instantly the cheers subsided. \"My\nhighly-worthy-and-ever-to-be-honoured sirs,\" began the Professor, \"this\nis a moment never to be forgotten. It sends a _fackel-zug_ of fiery\nemotion through every artery and vein.\nHighly-worthy-and-ever-to-be-honoured sirs, I am not so proud as to\nsuppose that this reception is accorded to me alone. It is an ovation\noffered to my highly-beloved-and-evermore-to-be-beloved-and-respected\nconsort, Frau Minna Maedler, born Witte, the daughter of a distinguished\nlady, who, like myself, has laboured on Selenography, and loved\nSelenology. Highly-worthy-and-ever-to-be-respected sirs, when I announce\nto you that I have returned to Dorpat to endow that\nmost-eminent-and-ever-to-become-more-eminent-University with one of the\nmost priceless treasures of art the world has ever seen, a monument of\ninfinite patience and exact observation; I mean a wax moon; I am sure I\nneed only allude to the fact to elicit your unbounded enthusiasm. But,\nhighly-worthy-and-ever-to-be-honoured sirs, allow me to assure you that\nmy expedition to Hanover has not resulted in a gain to the highly\neminent University of Dorpat only, but to me, individually as well.\n\n\"That highly-eminent-and-evermore-to-become-more-eminent University is\nnow enriched through my agency with a moon of wax, but I--I,\nsirs--excuse my emotion, I have also been enriched with a moon, not of\nwax, but of honey. The wax moon, gentlemen, may it last undissolved as\nlong as the very-eminent-and-evermore-to-become-more-eminent University\nof Dorpat lasts. The honey moon, gentlemen, with which I have been\nblessed, I feel assured will expand into a lifetime, at least will last\nalso undissolved as long as Minna and I exist.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Electress's Plot.\n\n\nThe Elector Frederick Christian of Saxony reigned only a few weeks, from\nOctober 5th to December 13, 1763; in his forty-first year he died of\nsmall-pox. He never had enjoyed rude health. The mother of the\nunfortunate prince, Marie Josepha of Austria, was an exceedingly ugly,\nbut prolific lady, vastly proud of her Hapsburg descent. The three first\nchildren followed each other with considerable punctuality, but the two\nfirst, both sons, died early. Frederick Christian was the third. The\nElectress, a few months before his birth, was hunting, when a deer that\nhad been struck, turned to her, dragging its broken legs behind it. This\nproduced a powerful impression on her mind; and when her son was born,\nhe was found to be a cripple in his legs. His head and arms were well\nformed, but his spine was twisted, and his knees, according to the\nEnglish ambassador, Sir Charles Williams--were drawn up over his\nstomach. He could not stand, and had to be lifted about from place to\nplace. At the age of five-and-twenty he had been married to Maria\nAntonia, daughter of the Elector of Bavaria, afterwards the Emperor\nCharles VII.\n\nHis brother, Francis Xavier, was a sturdy fellow, like his father, and\nthe Electress mother tried very hard to get Frederick Christian to\nresign his pretentions in favour of his brother, and take holy orders.\nThis he refused to do, and was then married to Maria Antonia, aged\ntwenty-three. Her mother had also been an Austrian princess, Amalia, and\nalso remarkable for her ugliness. The choice was not happy, it brought\nabout a marriage between cousins, and an union of blood that was\nafflicted with ugliness and infirmity of body.\n\nMaria Antonia had not only inherited her mother's ugliness, but was\nfurther disfigured with small-pox. She was small of stature, but of a\nresolute will, and of unbounded ambition. English tourists liked her,\nthey said that she laid herself out to make the Court of Dresden\nagreeable to them. Wraxall tells a good story of her, which shows a\ncertain frankness, not to say coarseness in her conversation--a story we\nwill not reproduce.\n\nShe had already made her personality felt at the Bavarian Court. Shortly\nafter the death of her father, in imitation of Louisa Dorothea, Duchess\nof Gotha, she had founded an \"Order of Friendship, or the Society of the\nIncas.\" The founding of the Order took place one fine spring day on a\ngondola in the canal at Nymphenburg. Her brother, the Elector of\nBavaria, was instituted a member, the Prince of F\u00fcrstenberg was made\nchancellor, and was given the custody of the seal of the confraternity\nwhich had as its legend \"La fidelit\u00e9 m\u00eane.\" The badge of the Order was a\ngold ring on the little finger of the left hand, with the inscription,\n\"L'ordre de l'amiti\u00e9--Maria Antonia.\" Each member went by a name\ndescriptive of his character, or of that virtue he or she was supposed\nto represent. Thus the chancellor was called \"Le Solide.\"\n\nSir Charles Williams says that on the very first night of her appearance\nin Dresden she made an attempt to force herself into a position for\nwhich she had no right; to the great annoyance of the King of Poland\n(Augustus, Elector of Saxony).\n\nAt Dresden, she favoured the arts, especially music and painting. She\nbecame the patroness of the family Mengs. She sang, and played on the\npiano, and indeed composed a couple of operas, \"Thalestris\" and \"Il\ntrionfo della fidelita,\" and the former was actually put on the stage.\nSir Charles Williams in 1747 wrote that, in spite of her profession that\nin her eyes no woman ought to meddle in the affairs of state, he\nventured to prophecy, she would rule the whole land in the name of her\nunfortunate husband.\n\nNor was he wrong. The moment that her father-in-law died, she put her\nhand on the reins. She was not likely to meet with resistance from her\nhusband, he was not merely a cripple in body, but was contracted in his\nintellect; he was amiable, but weak and ignorant. Sir Charles Williams\nsays that he once asked at table whether it was not possible to reach\nEngland by land--_although_ it was an island.\n\nFrederick Christian began to reign on 5th October 1763, and immediately\norders were given for the increase of the army to 50,000 men. Maria\nAntonia was bent on becoming a queen, and for this end she must get her\nhusband proclaimed like his father, King of Poland. She was allied to\nall the Courts of Europe, her agreeable manners, her energy, gained her\nfriends in all quarters. She felt herself quite capable of wearing a\nroyal crown, and she wrote to all the courts to urge the claims of her\nhusband, the Elector, when--the unfortunate cripple was attacked by\nsmall-pox, had a stroke, and died December 17th. Small-pox had carried\noff his ancestor John George IV., and in that same century it occasioned\nthe death of his brother-in-law, Max Joseph of Bavaria, and of the\nEmperor Joseph I.\n\nHe left behind him four sons, his successor, Frederick Augustus, and the\nthree other princes, Charles, his mother's favourite, Anthony, and\nMaximilian Joseph, the third of whom died the same year as his father.\nHe had also two daughters.\n\nThe death of her husband was a severe blow to the ambition of the\nElectress; her eldest son, Frederick Augustus, was under age, and the\nreins of government were snatched from her hands and put into those of\nthe uncle of the young Elector, Xavier, who had been his mother's\nfavourite, and in favour of whom his elder brother had been urged to\nresign his pretensions. Xavier was appointed administrator of Saxony,\nand acted as such for five years.\n\nWhen, at the age of eighteen, Frederick Augustus III. assumed the power,\nhe endeavoured to fulfil his duties with great diligence and\nconscientiousness, and allowed of no interference. He had, indeed, his\nadvisers, but these were men whom he selected for himself from among\nthose who had been well tried and who had proved themselves trusty.\n\nThe Electress-mother had, during the administration of Prince Xavier,\nexercised some little authority; she now suddenly found herself\ndeprived of every shred. Her son was too firm and self-determined to\nadmit of her interference. Moody and dissatisfied, she left Dresden and\nwent to Potsdam to Frederick II., in 1769, apparently to feel the way\ntowards the execution of a plan that was already forming in her restless\nbrain. She does not seem to have met with any encouragement, and she\nthen started for Italy, where she visited Rome in 1772, and sought Mengs\nout, whose artistic talents had been fostered under her care.\n\nUnder the administration of Prince Xavier, the Electress Dowager had\nreceived an income of sixty thousand dollars; after her son had mounted\nthe throne, her appanage was doubled, more than doubled, for she was\ngranted 130,000 dollars, and in addition her son gave her a present of\n500,000 dollars. This did not satisfy her, for she had no notion of\ncutting her coat according to her cloth, she would everywhere maintain a\nsplendid court. Moreover, she was bitten with the fever of speculation.\nThe year before her son came of age and assumed the power, she had\nerected a great cotton factory at Grossenhain, but as it brought her in\nno revenue, and cost her money besides, she was glad to dispose of it in\n1774. The visitor to Dresden almost certainly knows the Bavarian tavern\nat the end of the bridge leading into Little Dresden. It is a tavern now\nmedi\u00e6valised, with panelled walls, bull's eye glass in the windows, old\nGerman glass and pottery--even an old German kalendar hanging from the\nwalls, and with a couple of pretty Bavarian Kellnerins in costume, to\nwait on the visitor. There also in the evening Bavarian minstrels\njodel, and play the zither.\n\nThis Bavarian tavern was established by the Electress Mother, who\nthought that the Saxons did not drink good or enough beer, and must be\nsupplied with that brewed in her native land.\n\nBut this speculation also failed, and her capital of five hundred\nthousand dollars was swallowed up to the last farthing, and to meet her\ncreditors she was obliged to pawn her diamond necklace and the rest of\nher jewels. This happened in Genoa. When her allowance came in again she\nredeemed her jewelry, but in 1775 had to pawn it again in Rome. Unable\nto pay her debts, and in distress for money, she appealed repeatedly,\nbut in vain, to her son.\n\nFrederick Augustus was, like his father, of feeble constitution, and\nmoreover, as he himself complained later on in life, had been at once\nspoiled and neglected in his youth; and he was unable through weakness\nto ascend a height. He did not walk or ride, but went about in a\ncarriage. The January (1769) after he came to the Electoral crown, he\nmarried Amelia Augusta of Zweibr\u00fccken, sister of Max Joseph, afterwards\nfirst King of Bavaria. She was only seventeen at the time.\n\nThe favourite son of his mother was Charles. This prince had been hearty\nand in full possession of his limbs in his early age, but when he\nreached the years of eleven or twelve, he became crippled and doubled up\nlike his father. Wraxal says that beside him Scarron would have passed\nas a beauty. He was so feeble and paralysed that he could only be moved\nabout on a wheeled chair. He died in 1781. His elder brother, the\nElector, though not a vigorous man, was not a cripple.\n\nOne of the attendant gentry on the Electress Mother, in Rome, was the\nMarquis Aloysius Peter d'Agdolo, son of the Saxon Consul in Venice,\nColonel of the Lifeguard, and Adjutant General to Prince Xavier whilst\nhe was Administrator.\n\nAgdolo advised the Electress Mother to raise money to meet her\ndifficulties by selling to her son, the Elector, her claims on the\nBavarian inheritance. Her brother, Maximilian Joseph, was without\nchildren; and the nearest male claimant to the Electoral Crown of\nBavaria was the Count Palatine of Sulzbach, only remotely connected. It\nwas, therefore, quite possible that Bavaria might fall to a sister. Now\non the death of her brother, the Dowager Electress of Saxony certainly\nintended to advance her claims against any remote kinsman hailing\nthrough a common ancestor two centuries ago. But whether she would be\nable to enforce her claim was another matter. She might sell it to her\nson, who would have the means of advancing his claim by force of arms\nand gold. This was in 1776. Maria Antonia was delighted with the scheme\nand at once hastened to Munich to put it in execution, taking with her\nall her diamonds which she had managed to redeem from pawn.\n\nWhilst she was on her way to Munich, Agdolo was despatched to Dresden,\nto open the negociation with her son, not only for the transference of\nher rights on Bavaria, but also for the pawning of her diamonds, to her\nson.\n\nShe had urgent need of money, and in her extremity she conceived an\naudacious scheme to enable her at the same time to get hold of the\nmoney, and to retain her rights on Bavaria. The plan was this:--As soon\nas she had got the full payment from the Elector for the resignation of\nher claims in his favour, she had resolved suddenly to proclaim to the\nworld that he was no son at all of the late Elector Frederick\nChristian--that he was a bastard, smuggled into the palace and passed\noff as the son of the Elector, much as, according to Whig gossip, James\nthe Pretender was smuggled into the palace of James II. in a warming\npan, and passed off as of blood royal, when he was of base origin.\n\nFrederick Augustus thus declared to be no son of the House of Saxony,\nthe Electoral crown would come to her favourite son Charles, who was a\ncripple. The Elector was not deformed--evidence against his origin;\nCharles was doubled up and distorted--he was certainly the true son of\nthe late Elector, and the legitimate successor.\n\nIf Maria Antonia should succeed--she would rule Saxony in the name, and\nover the head of her unfortunate son Charles, and her rights on Bavaria\nwould not have been lost or made away with.\n\nArrived in Munich, she confided the whole plan to her ladies-in-waiting.\nShe told them her hopes, her confidence in Agdolo, who was gone to\nDresden to negociate the sale, and who was thoroughly aware of her\nintentions.\n\nAgdolo, as all the ladies knew, was a great rascal. He had been\npensioned by Prince Xavier with six hundred dollars per annum, and he\nhad what he received from the Electress Mother as her\ngentleman-in-waiting. He was married to the Princess Lubomirska, widow\nof Count Rutowska, had quarrelled with her, and they lived separate, but\nhe had no scruple to receive of an insulted wife an annual allowance.\nAll these sources of income were insufficient to meet his expenses; and\nno one who knew him doubted for a moment that he would lend himself to\nany intrigue which would promise him wealth and position. The plot of\nthe Dowager Electress was a risky one--but, should it succeed, his\nfortune was assured.\n\nAt Dresden he was well received by the Elector; and Frederick Augustus\nat once accepted the proposition of his mother. He consented to purchase\nMaria Antonia's resignation in his favour of her claims on the allodial\ninheritance of the family on the extinction of the Bavarian Electoral\nhouse in the male line, and to pay all her debts, and to find a sum\nsufficient to redeem the diamonds, which were represented as still in\npawn at Rome.\n\nMaria Antonia and her confidant appeared to be on the eve of success,\nwhen the plan was upset, from a quarter in which they had not dreamed of\ndanger. Among the ladies of the court of the Dowager Electress was one\nwhose name does not transpire, who seems to have entertained an ardent\npassion for Agdolo. He, however, disregarded her, and paid his\nattentions to another of the ladies. Rage and jealousy consumed the\nheart of this slighted beauty, and when the Electress Mother confided to\nher the plan she had formed, the lady-in-waiting saw that her\nopportunity had arrived for the destruction of the man who had slighted\nher charms. She managed to get hold of her mistress' keys and to make a\ntranscript of her papers, wherein the whole plan was detailed, also of\ncopies of her letters to Agdolo, and of the Marquis's letters to her.\nWhen she had these, she at once despatched them--not to the Elector of\nSaxony, but to Frederick II. at Berlin, who stood in close relations of\nfriendship with the Elector of Saxony. She had reckoned aright. Such\ntidings, received through the Court of Prussia, would produce a far\ndeeper impression on Frederick Augustus, than if received from her\nunknown and insignificant self. It is possible also that she may have\nknown of her mistress having been at Berlin and there thrown out hints\nof something of the sort, so that Frederick II. would at once recognise\nin this matured plan the outcome of the vague hints of mischief poured\nout at Potsdam a few years before.\n\nAll was going on well at Berlin. Adolphus von Zehmen, Electoral\nTreasurer, had already started for Munich, furnished with the requisite\nsums. He was empowered to receive the deed of relinquishment from the\nDowager Electress, and also her diamond necklace, which, in the\nmeantime, was to be brought by a special courier from Rome. Maria\nAntonia, on her side, had constituted Councillor Hewald her\nplenipotentiary; she wrote to say that he would transact all the\nrequisite negociation with the Treasurer Zehmen, and that the diamond\nnecklace had arrived and was in his hands.\n\nAgdolo received orders from the Electress Mother on no account to leave\nDresden till the middle of September, 1776, lest his departure should\narouse suspicion.\n\nThe conduct of the Marquis was not in any way remarkable, he moved about\namong old friends with perfect openness, often appeared in Court, and\nwas satisfied that he was perfectly safe. He was not in the least aware\nthat all his proceedings were watched and reported on, not by order of\nthe Elector, but of his own mistress, who received regular reports from\nthis emissary as to the behaviour and proceedings of the Marquis, so\nthat she was able to compare with this private report that sent her by\nAgdolo, and so satisfy herself whether he was acting in her interest, or\nplaying a double game.\n\nThis bit of cunning on her part, was not surprising, considering what a\nman Agdolo was, and, as we shall see, it proved of great advantage to\nher, but in a way she least expected.\n\nThe Marchese d'Agdolo had paid his farewell visit to the Elector, and\nreceived leave to depart. Frederick Augustus had not the remotest\nsuspicion that his mother was playing a crooked part, and he seemed\nheartily satisfied with the negociation, and made the Marquis a present.\n\nOn September 15, 1776, Agdolo was intending to start from Dresden, on\nhis return to Munich, and the evening before leaving he spent at the\nhouse of a friend, Ferber, playing cards. Little did he suspect that\nwhilst he was winning one stake after another at the table, the greatest\nstake of all was lost. That evening, whilst he was playing cards, a\ncourier arrived from Berlin, in all haste, and demanded to see the\nElector in person, instantly, as he had a communication of the utmost\nimportance to make from Frederick II. He was admitted without delay, and\nthe whole of his mother's plot was detailed before the astonished\nElector.\n\n\"The originals of these transcripts,\" said the courier, \"are in the\nhands of the Marchese d'Agdolo, let him be arrested, and a comparison of\nthe documents made.\"\n\nThe Privy Council was at once assembled, and the papers received from\nFrederick II. were laid before it. The members voted unanimously that\nthe Marquis should be arrested, and General Schiebell was entrusted with\nthe execution of the decree. No surprise was occasioned by the entry of\nGeneral Schiebell into the house of Ferber. It was a place of resort of\nthe best society in Dresden; but when the General announced that he had\ncome to make an arrest, many cheeks lost their colour.\n\n\"In the name of his Serene Highness the Elector,\" said the General, \"I\nmake this man my prisoner,\" and he laid his hand on the shoulder of\nAgdolo, who had served under him in the Seven Years' War. He was taken\nat once to his own lodgings, where his desks and boxes--already packed\nfor departure--were opened, and all his papers removed. The same night,\nunder a strong guard, he was transported at 10 o'clock, to K\u00f6nigstein.\nIn that strong fortress and state prison, perched on an isolated\nlimestone crag, the rest of his life was to be spent in confinement.\n\nBut the Marchese, like a crafty Italian, had made his preparations\nagainst something of the sort; for among his papers was found a\ncommunication addressed by him to the Elector, revealing the whole plot.\nIt was undated. If the search of his rooms and the discovery of his\npapers had been made earlier, the Elector might have believed that the\nman had really intended to betray his mistress, but, he had postponed\nthe delivery of the communication too late.[17]\n\nA few days later, the Marchese received a sealed letter from the\nElector; and he was treated in his prison without undue severity; his\npension was not withdrawn; and the Elector seems never to have quite\nmade up his mind whether Agdolo really intended to make him aware of the\nplot at the last minute, or to go on with the plan after his mistress's\norders.\n\nAfter some years, when Agdolo began to suffer in his chest, he was\nallowed to go to the baths of Pirna, under a guard. His wife never\nvisited him in prison. She died, however, only two years later, in 1778,\nat the age of fifty-six. Agdolo lived on for twenty-three years and a\nhalf, and died August 27, 1800. All his papers were then sent to\nFrederick Augustus III., who read them, dissolved into tears, and burnt\nthem.\n\nWe must return for a moment to Munich. No sooner had the emissary of the\nElectress Mother heard of the news of the arrest of Agdolo, than he\nhastened to Munich with post horses as hard as he could fly over the\nroads. Maria Antonia, when she heard the news, at once made fresh\ndispositions. She sent word that same night to Hewald to make off, and\nin another half hour he had disappeared with the diamonds.\n\nNext day the completion of the resignation of claims was to be made. The\nElectress Mother requested the Treasurer Zehmen to go to the dwelling of\nher Councillor Hewald, who, as we can understand, was not to be found\nanywhere. Herr von Zehmen was much surprised and disconcerted, and the\nDowager Electress affected extreme indignation and distress, charging\nher plenipotentiary with having robbed her of her diamonds, and bolted\nwith them. Then she took to her bed, and pretended to be dangerously\nill. Next day the news reached Zehmen of what had occurred at Dresden,\nand with the news came his recall. She saw the treasurer before his\ndeparture, and implored him to get both Agdolo and Hewald arrested and\npunished, because, as she declared, they had between them fabricated a\nwicked plot for her robbery and ruin.\n\nHewald went to Frankfort with the jewels, where he was stopped and taken\nby an officer of Frederick Augustus, and brought on Jan. 27, 1777, to\nDresden. He was sent to the K\u00f6nigstein, but was released in 1778.\n\nIn 1777 died the Elector of Bavaria, but his sister was unable to obtain\nany recognition of her claims; and she died 23rd April, 1780, without\nany reconciliation with the eldest son. Next year died her favourite\nson, the cripple, Charles.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[17] This is supposed to have been the contents of the packet addressed\nto the Elector, the contents have never been revealed.\n\n\n\n\nSuess Oppenheim.\n\n\nOn December the sixteenth, 1733, Charles Alexander, Duke of W\u00fcrtemberg,\nentered Stuttgart in state. It was a brilliant though brief winter day.\nThe sun streamed out of a cloudless heaven on the snowy roofs of the old\ntown, and the castle park trees frosted as though covered with jewels.\nThe streets were hung with tapestries, crimson drapery, and wreaths of\nartificial flowers. Peasants in their quaint costume poured in from all\nthe country round to salute their new prince. From the old castle towers\nfloated the banners of the Duchy and the Empire--for W\u00fcrtemberg three\nstag-horns quartered with the Hohenstauffen black lions. The Duke was\nnot young: he was hard on fifty--an age when a man has got the better of\nyouthful impetuosity and regrets early indiscretions--an age at which,\nif a man has stuff in him, he is at his best.\n\nThe land of W\u00fcrtemberg is a favoured and smiling land. At the period of\nwhich we write, it was not so ample as the present kingdom, but\nfruitful, favoured, and called the Garden of the Empire. For twenty\nyears this Duchy had been badly governed; the inhabitants had been\ncruelly oppressed by the incompetent Duke Eberhardt Ludwig, or rather by\nhis favourites. The country was burdened with debt; the treasury was\nexhausted. It had, as it were, lain under winter frost for twenty years\nand more, and now though on a winter day laughed and bloomed with a\npromise of spring.\n\nAnd every good W\u00fcrtemberger had a right to be glad and proud of the new\nduke, who had stormed Belgrade under Prince Eugene, and was held to be\none of the bravest, noblest minded, and most generous of the German\nprinces of his time.\n\nAs he rode through the streets of Stuttgart all admired his stately\nform, his rich fair hair flowing over his shoulders, his bright\ncommanding eye, and the pleasant smile on his lip; every W\u00fcrtemberger\nwaved his hat, and shouted, and leaped with enthusiasm. Now at last the\nGarden of Germany would blossom and be fruitful under so noble a duke.\n\nBut in the same procession walked, not rode, another man whom none\nregarded--a handsome man with dark brown hair and keen olive eyes, a\nsallow complexion, and a finely moulded Greek nose. He had a broad\nforehead and well arched brows. He was tall, and had something noble and\ncommanding in his person and manner. But his most remarkable feature was\nthe eye--bright, eager, ever restless.\n\nThis man, whom the W\u00fcrtembergers did not observe, was destined to play a\nterrible and tragic part in their history--to be the evil genius of the\nduke and of the land. His name was Joseph Suess Oppenheim.\n\nJoseph's mother, Michaela, a Jewess, had been a woman of extraordinary\nbeauty, the only child of the Rabbi Salomon of Frankfort. She had been\nmarried when quite young to the Rabbi Isachar Suess Oppenheim, a singer.\nJoseph was born at Heidelberg in 1692, and was her child by the Baron\nGeorge of Heydersdorf, a soldier who had distinguished himself in the\nTurkish war, and with whom she carried on a guilty intrigue. From his\nfather Joseph Suess derived a dignified, almost military bearing, and\nhis personal beauty from his mother.\n\nThe Baron's romance with the lovely Jewess came to an end in 1693, when\nhe held the castle of Heidelberg against the French. He surrendered\nafter a gallant defence; too soon, however, as the court-martial held on\nhim decided; and he was sentenced to death, but was pardoned by the\nEmperor Leopold, with the loss of all his honours and offices, and he\nwas banished the Empire.\n\nSuess had a sister who married a rich Jew of Vienna, but followed her\nmother in laxity of morals, and, after having wasted a good fortune in\nextravagance, fell back on her mother and brother for a maintenance. He\nhad a brother who became a factor at the court of Darmstadt. They lived\non bad terms with each other, and were engaged in repeated lawsuits with\none another. This brother abjured Judaism, was baptised, and assumed the\nname of Tauffenberg. Joseph Suess was connected, or nominally connected,\nthrough Isachar, his reputed though not his real father, with the great\nand wealthy Jewish family of Oppenheim. The branch established in Vienna\nhad become rich on contracts for the army, and had been ennobled. One\nmember failed because the Emperor Leopold I. owed him many millions of\ndollars and was unable to pay. Joseph began life in the office of the\ncourt bankers and army contractors of his family at Vienna. Here it was\nthat he obtained his first ideas of how money could be raised through\nlotteries, monopolies, and imposts of all kinds. But though Joseph was\nput on the road that led to wealth, in the Oppenheim house at Vienna, he\nmissed his chance there, and was dismissed for some misconduct or other,\nthe particulars of which we do not know.\n\nThen, in disgrace and distress, he came to Bavaria, where he served a\nwhile as barber's assistant. Probably through the influence of some of\nthe Oppenheims, Joseph was introduced into the court of the family of\nThurn and Taxis, which had acquired vast wealth through the monopoly of\nthe post-office. Thence he made his way into an office of the palatine\ncourt at Mannheim.\n\nThis was a period in which the German princes were possessed with the\npassion of imitating the splendour and extravagance of Louis XIV.\nEveryone must have his Versailles, must crowd his court with\nfunctionaries, and maintain armies in glittering and showy uniforms.\n\nGermany, to the present day, abounds in vast and magnificent palaces,\nfor the most part in wretched repair, if not ruinous. The houses of our\nEnglish nobility are nothing as compared in size with these palaces of\npetty princes, counts, and barons.\n\nTo build these mansions, and when built to fill them with officials and\nservants, to keep up their armies, and to satisfy the greed of their\nmistresses, these German princes needed a good deal of money, and were\nready to show favour to any man who could help them to obtain it--show\nwhere to bore to tap fresh financial springs. All kinds of new methods\nof taxation were had recourse to, arousing the bitter mockery of the\noppressed. The tobacco monopoly was called the nose-tax; it was felt to\nbe oppressive only by the snuff-takers and smokers; and perhaps the\nstamp on paper only by those who wrote; but the boot and shoe stamp\nimposed by one of the little princes touched everyone but those who went\nbarefoot.\n\nJoseph Suess introduced the stamp on paper into the palatinate. He did\nnot invent this duty, which had been imposed elsewhere; but he obtained\nthe concession of the impost, and sold it to a subfactor for 12,000\nflorins, and with the money invested in a speculation in the coinage of\nHesse-Darmstadt. All the little German princes at this time had their\nown coinage, down to trumpery little states of a few miles in diameter,\nas Waldeck, Fulda, Hechingen, and Montfort; and Germany was full to\noverflow of bad money, and barren of gold and silver. Suess, in his\nperegrinations, had obtained a thorough insight into the mysteries of\nthis branch of business. He not only thoroughly understood the practical\npart of the matter--the coinage--but also where the cheapest markets\nwere, in which to purchase the metals to be coined. Now that he had some\nmoney at his command, he undertook to farm the coinage of\nHesse-Darmstadt; but almost immediately undersold it, with a profit to\nhimself of 9,000 florins. He took other contracts for the courts, and\nsoon realised a comfortable fortune. Even the Archbishop of Cologne\ncalled in his aid, and contributed to enrich him, in his efforts to get\na little more for himself out of the subjects of his palatinate. In the\nsummer of 1732 Joseph Suess visited the Blackforest baths of Wildbad,\nfor the sake of the waters. At the same time Charles Alexander of\nW\u00fcrtemberg and his wife were also undergoing the same cure. Oppenheim's\npleasant manners, his handsome face, and his cleverness caught the fancy\nof Charles Alexander, and he appointed him his agent and steward; and as\nthe Prince was then in want of money, Suess lent him a trifle of 2,000\nflorins. Charles Alexander had not at this time any assurance that he\nwould ascend the ducal throne of W\u00fcrtemberg, though it was probable.[18]\nThe reigning Duke, Eberhardt Louis, had, indeed, just lost his only son;\nbut it was not impossible that a posthumous grandson might be born.\nCharles Alexander was first-cousin of the Duke. It is said that Suess on\nthis occasion foretold the future greatness of the Prince, and pretended\nto extract his prophecy from the Cabala. It is certain that Charles\nAlexander was very superstitious, and believed in astrology, and it is\nby no means improbable that Suess practised on his credulity. He had at\nhis disposal plenty of means of learning whether the young Princess of\nW\u00fcrtemberg was likely soon to become a mother--her husband had died in\nNovember--and he was very well aware that the old Duke was failing. The\nloan made by Suess came acceptably to Prince Charles Alexander just as a\nJewish banker, Isaac Simon of Landau, with whom he had hitherto dealt,\nhad declined to make further advances.\n\nWhen the Prince returned to Belgrade, where he resided as stadtholder of\nServia, under the Emperor, he was fully convinced that he had\ndiscovered in Suess an able, intelligent, and devoted servant. His wife\nwas a princess of Thurn and Taxis, and it is possible that Suess, who\nhad been for some time about that court at Ratisbon, had used her\ninfluence, and his acquaintance with her family affairs, to push his\ninterests with the Prince, her husband.\n\nOn October 31, 1733, died the old Duke Eberhardt Louis, and Charles\nAlexander at once hastened from Belgrade to Vienna, where, in an\ninterview with the Emperor, without any consultation with the Estates,\nor consideration for the treasury of W\u00fcrtemberg, he promised Leopold a\ncontingent of 12,000 men to aid in the war against France. Then he went\non to Stuttgart.\n\nPoor W\u00fcrtemberg groaned under the burdens that had been imposed on it;\nthe favourites had been allowed to do with it what they liked; and\nCharles Alexander's first public declaration on entering his capital\nwas: \"From henceforth I will reign over you immediately, and myself see\nto the reform of every grievance, and put away from my people every\nburden which has galled its shoulders. If my people cry to me, my ears\nshall be open to hear their call. I will not endure the disorder which\nhas penetrated everywhere, into every department of the State; my own\nhand shall sweep it away.\"\n\nAnd as a token of his sincerity he ordered every office-holder in Church\nand State to put on paper and present to him a schedule of every payment\nthat had been made, by way of fee and bribe, to obtain his office. This\nwas published on December 28, 1733. The older and wiser heads were\nshaken; the Duke, they said, was only heaping trouble on his shoulders;\nlet the past be buried. He replied, \"I must get to the bottom of all\nthis iniquity. I must get inured to work.\"\n\nBut the hero of Belgrade had all his life been more accustomed to the\nsaddle than the desk, and to command in battle--a much simpler\nmatter--than to rule in peace. The amount of grievances brought before\nhim, the innumerable scandals, peculations, bewildered him. The people\nwere wild with enthusiasm, but the entire bureaucracy was filled with\nsullen and dogged opposition.\n\nW\u00fcrtemberg enjoyed a constitution more liberal than any other German\nprincipality. The old Duke Eberhardt with the Beard, who died in 1496,\nby his will contrived for the good government of his land by providing\nchecks against despotic rule by the dukes his successors. On the\nstrength of this testament the Estates deposed his successor. The\nprovisions of this will were ratified in the Capitulation of T\u00fcbingen,\nin 1514, and every duke on assuming the reins of government was required\nto swear to observe the capitulation. Duke Charles Alexander took the\noath without perhaps very closely examining it, and found out after it\nwas taken that he was hampered in various ways, and was incapacitated\nfrom raising the body of men with which he had undertaken to furnish the\nEmperor, independent of the consent of the Parliament. It may here be\nsaid that there was no hereditary house of nobles in W\u00fcrtemberg; the\npolicy of the former dukes had been to drive the hereditary petty\nnobles out of the country, and to create in their place a clique of\ncourt officials absolutely dependent on themselves. By the constitution,\nno standing army was to be maintained, and no troops raised without the\nconsent of the Estates; the tenure of property was guaranteed by the\nState, all serfage was abolished, and no taxes could be imposed or\nmonopolies created without the consent of the Estates.\n\nThe Estates consisted of fourteen prelates, pastors invested with\ndignities which entitled them to sit in the House, and seventy\ndeputies--some elected by the constituencies, others holders of certain\noffices, who sat _ex officio_. The Estates had great power; indeed the\nDuke could do little but ask its consent to the measures he proposed,\nand to swallow humble pie at refusal. It not only imposed the taxes, but\nthe collectors were directly responsible to the Estates for what was\ncollected, and paid into its hands the sum gathered. Moreover, any\nagreement entered into between the Duke and another prince was invalid\nunless ratified by the Estates.\n\nWhen Duke Charles Alexander, who had been accustomed to the despotic\ncommand of an army as field-marshal, found how his hands were tied and\nhow he was surrounded by impediments to free action on all sides, he was\nvery angry, and quarrelled with the Ministers who had presented the\ncapitulation to him for signature. He declared that the paper presented\nfor him to sign had not been read to him in full, or had the obnoxious\npassages folded under that he should not see them, or that they had been\nadded after his signature had been affixed.\n\nHe became irritable, not knowing how to keep his promise with the\nEmperor, and disgusted to find himself a ruler without real authority.\n\nNow, as it was inconvenient to call the Assembly together on every\noccasion when something was wanted, a permanent committee sat in\nStuttgart, consisting of two parts. This committee acted for the Estates\nand were responsible to it.\n\nWanting advice and help, unwilling to seek that of the reliable\nMinisters--and there were some honest and patriotic--the Duke asked\nJoseph Suess to assist him, and Suess was only too delighted to show him\na way out of his difficulties. The redress of grievances was thrust\naside, abuses were left uncorrected, and the Duke's attention was turned\ntowards two main objects--the establishment of a standing army, and the\nupsetting of the old constitution.\n\nW\u00fcrtemberg was then a state whose limits were not very extensive, nor\ndid they lie within a ring fence. The imperial cities of Reutlingen,\nUlm, Heilsbronn, Weil, and Gm\u00fcnd were free. It might not be convenient\nfor the Emperor to pay with hard cash for the troops the Duke had\npromised to furnish, but he might allow of the incorporation of these\nindependent and wealthy cities in the duchy. Moreover, it was a feature\nof the times for the princes to seek to conquer fresh districts and\nincorporate them. France had recently snatched away Mompelgard from\nW\u00fcrtemberg, and Charles Alexander recovered it. The duchy had suffered\nso severely from having been overrun by French troops that the Estates\nacquiesced, though reluctantly, in the Duke's proposal that a standing\narmy should be maintained. Having obtained this concession, Suess\ninstructed him how to make it a means of acquiring money, by calling men\nto arms who would be thankful to purchase their discharge. The army soon\nnumbered 18,000 soldiers. His general-in-chief was Remchingen, a man who\nhad served with him in the Imperial army and was devoted to his\ninterests. The Duke placed his army under officers who were none of them\nW\u00fcrtembergers. At the head of an army officered by his own creatures,\nthe Duke hoped to carry his next purpose--the abrogation of the\ncapitulation, and the conversion of the State from a constitutional to a\ndespotic monarchy. Suess now became the Duke's most confidential\nadviser, and, guided by him, Charles Alexander got rid of all his\nMinisters and courtiers who would not become the assistants in this\npolicy, and filled their places with creatures of his own, chief of whom\nwas a fellow named Hallwachs. In order to paralyse the Assembly the Duke\ndid not summon it to meet, and managed to pack the committee with men in\nhis interest; for, curiously enough, the committee was not elected by\nthe delegates, but itself elected into the vacancies created in it. By\nmeans of the committee the Duke imposed on the country in 1736 a double\ntax, and the grant of a thirtieth of all the fruits; and this was to\nlast \"as long as the necessities of the case required it.\"\n\nSuess himself was careful to keep in the background. He accepted no\noffice about court, became Minister of no branch of the State; but every\nMinister and officer was nominated by him and devoted to him. Towards\nthese creatures of his own he behaved with rudeness and arrogance, so\nthat they feared him almost more than the Duke. If the least opposition\nwas manifested, Suess threatened the gallows or the block, forfeiture of\ngoods, and banishment; and as the Duke subscribed every order Suess\nbrought him, it was well known that his threats were not idle.\n\nSuess employed Weissensee, a pastor, the prelate of Hirsau, as his court\nspy. This worthless man brought to the favourite every whisper that\npassed within his hearing among the courtiers of the Duke, everything\nthat was said in the committee, and advised whether the adhesion of this\nor that man was doubtful.\n\nSuess so completely enveloped the Duke in the threads of the web he spun\nabout him, that Charles Alexander followed his advice blindly, and did\nnothing without consulting him.\n\nIn 1734 Suess farmed the coinage of W\u00fcrtemberg, with great profit to\nhimself, and, having got it into his own hands, kept it there to the\nend. But there is this to be said for his coinage, that it was far\nbetter than that of all the other states of Germany; so that the\nW\u00fcrtemberg silver was sought throughout Germany. There was nothing\nfraudulent in this transaction, and though at his trial the matter was\nclosely investigated, no evidence of his having exceeded what was just\ncould be produced against him.\n\nIt was quite another matter with the \"Land Commission,\" a\nwell-intentioned institution with which the Duke began his reign.\nCharles Alexander was overwhelmed with the evidence sent in to him of\nbribery under the late Duke, and, unable to investigate the cases\nhimself, he appointed commissioners to do so, and of course these\ncommissioners were nominated by Suess. The commission not only examined\ninto evidence of bribery in the purchase of offices, but also into\npeculation and neglect of duty in the discharge of offices. Those\nagainst whom evidence was strong were sentenced to pay a heavy fine, but\nwere not necessarily deprived. Those, on the other hand, who had\nacquired their offices honourably and had discharged their functions\nconscientiously were harassed by repeated trials, terrified with\nthreats, and were forced to purchase their discharge at a sum fixed\naccording to an arbitrary tariff. Those who proved stubborn, or did not\nsee at what the commissioners aimed, were subjected to false witnesses,\nfound guilty, and fined. These fines amounted in some instances to\n\u00a32,000.\n\nAfter the commission had exhausted the bureaucracy, and money was still\nneeded, private individuals became the prey of their inquisitorial and\nextortive action.\n\nAny citizen who was reported to be rich was summoned before the tribunal\nto give an account of the manner in which he had obtained his wealth;\nhis private affairs were investigated, his books examined, and his trial\nprotracted till he was glad to purchase his dismissal for a sum\ncalculated according to his income as revealed to the prying eyes of the\ninquisitors.\n\nBut as this did not suffice to fill the empty treasury, recurrence was\nhad to the old abuse which the Land Commission had been instituted to\ninquire into and correct. Every office was sold, and to increase the\nrevenue from this source fresh offices were created, fresh titles\ninvented, and all were sold for ready money. Every office in Church as\nwell as State was bought; indeed, a sort of auction was held at every\nvacancy, and the office was knocked down to the highest bidder.\n\nThis sort of commerce had been bad enough under the late Duke, but it\nbecame fourfold as bad now under the redresser of abuses, for what had\nbefore been inchoate was now organised by Suess into a system.\n\nNot only were the offices sold, but after they had been entered upon,\nthe tenant was expected to pay a second sum, entitled the gratuity,\nwhich was to go, it was announced, towards a sustentation fund for\nwidows and orphans and the aged. It is needless to say that none of this\nmoney ever reached widows, orphans, or aged.\n\nA special bureau of gratuities was organised by decree of the Duke, and\nfilled with men appointed by Suess, who paid into his hands the sums\nreceived; and he, after having sifted them, and retained what he thought\nfit, shook the rest into the ducal treasury. This bureau was founded by\nducal rescript in 1736.\n\nSide by side with the Office of Gratuities came the Fiscal Office into\nbeing, whose function it was to revise the magisterial and judicial\nproceedings of the courts of justice. This also was filled by Suess with\nhis creatures. The ground given to the world for its establishment was\nthe correction of judicial errors and injustices committed by the courts\nof law. It was the final court of revision, before which every decision\nwent before it was carried into effect. Legal proceedings, moreover,\nwere long and costly, and the Fiscal Court undertook to interfere when\nany suit threatened to be unduly protracted to the prejudice of justice.\nBut the practical working of the Fiscal Court was something very\ndifferent. It interfered with the course of justice, reversing\njudgments, not according to equity, but according to the bribes paid\ninto the hands of the board. In a very short time the sources of justice\nwere completely poisoned by it, and no crime, however great and however\nclearly established, led to chastisement if sufficient money were paid\ninto the hands of the court of revision. The whole country was overrun\nwith spies, who denounced as guilty of imaginary crimes those who were\nrich, and such never escaped without leaving some of their gold sticking\nto the hands of the fiscal counsellors.\n\nAs usual with Joseph Suess, he endeavoured to keep officially clear of\nthis court, as he had of the Office of Gratuities, and of all others.\nBut the Duke nominated him assistant counsellor. Suess protested, and\nendeavoured to shirk the honour; but as the Duke refused to release him,\nhe took care never once to attend the court, and when the proceedings\nand judgments were sent him for his signature he always sent them back\nunsigned; and he never was easy till relieved of the unacceptable title.\nFor Suess was a clever rogue. In every transaction that was public, and\nof which documentary evidence was producible that he had been mixed up\nwith it, he acted with integrity; but whenever he engaged on a\nproceeding which might render him liable to be tried in the event of\nhis falling into disfavour, he kept himself in the background and acted\nthrough his agents; so that when, eventually, he was tried for his\ntreasonable and fraudulent conduct, documentary evidence incriminating\nhim was wholly wanting.\n\nAfter the death of the Duke, it was estimated from the records of the\ntwo courts that they had in the year 1736-7 squeezed sixty-five thousand\npounds out of the small and poor duchy.\n\nSuess had constituted himself jeweller to the Duke, who had a fancy for\nprecious stones, but knew nothing of their relative values. When Suess\noffered him a jewel he was unable to resist the temptation of buying it,\nand very little of the money of the Bureau of Gratuities ever reached\nhim; he took the value out in stones at Suess' estimation. When some of\nhis intimates ventured to suggest that the Jew was deceiving him as to\nthe worth of the stones, Duke Charles Alexander shrugged his shoulders\nand said with a laugh, \"It may be so, but I can't do without that\ncoujon\" (_cochon_).[19] . At the beginning of 1736 a new edict for wards\nwas issued by the Duke, probably on Suess' suggestion, whereby he\nconstituted a chancery which should act as guardian to all orphans under\nage, managing their property for them, and was accountable to none but\nthe Duke for the way in which it dealt with the trust. Then a commission\nwas instituted to take charge of all charitable bequests in the duchy;\nand by this means Suess got the fingering of property to the amount of\ntwo hundred thousand pounds, for which the State paid to the Charities\nat the rate of three per cent.\n\nThen came the imposition of duties and taxes. Salt was taxed,\nplaying-cards, groceries, leather, tobacco, carriages, even the sweeping\nof chimneys. A gazette was issued containing decrees of the Duke and\nofficial appointments, and every officer and holder of any place,\nhowever insignificant, under Government was compelled to subscribe to\nthis weekly paper, the profits of which came to the Duke and his\nadviser. Then came a property and income tax; then in quick succession\none tormenting edict after another, irritating and disturbing the\npeople, and all meaning one thing--money.\n\nLotteries were established by order of the Duke. Suess paid the Duke\n\u00a3300 for one, and pocketed the profits, which were considerable. At the\ncourt balls and masquerades Suess had his roulette tables in an\nadjoining room, and what fell to the _croupier_ went into his\npocket.[20]\n\nAt last his sun declined. The Duke became more and more engrossed in his\nideas of upsetting the constitution by means of his army, and listened\nmore to his general, Remchingen, than to Suess. He entered into a\ncompact with the elector of Bavaria and with the Bishops of W\u00fcrzburg and\nBamberg to send him troops to assist him in his great project, and, as a\nprice for this assistance, promised to introduce the Roman Catholic\nreligion into W\u00fcrtemberg.\n\nThe enemies of Suess, finding that he was losing hold of the Duke, took\nadvantage of a precious stone which the Jew had sold him for a thousand\npounds, and which proved to be worth only four hundred, to open the eyes\nof Charles Alexander to the character of the man who had exercised such\nunbounded influence over him. Suess, finding his power slipping from\nhim, resolved to quit the country. The Duke stopped him. Suess offered\nfive thousand pounds for permission to depart; it was refused. Charles\nAlexander was aware that Suess knew too many court secrets to be allowed\nto quit the country. Moreover, the necessities of the Duke made him feel\nthat he might still need the ingenuity of Suess to help him to raise\nmoney. As a means of retaining him he granted him a so-called\n\"absolutorium\"--a rescript which made him responsible to no one for any\nof his actions in the past or in the future. Furnished with this\ndocument, the Jew consented to remain, and then the Duke required of him\na loan of four thousand pounds for the expenses of a journey he\nmeditated to Danzig to consult a physician about a foot from which he\nsuffered. The \"absolutorium\" was signed in February 1737.\n\nOn March 12 following, Charles Alexander started on his journey from\nStuttgart, but went no farther than his palace at Ludwigsburg.\n\nAlthough the utmost secrecy had been maintained, it had nevertheless\ntranspired that the constitution was to be upset as soon as the Duke had\nleft the country. He had given sealed orders to his general, Remchingen,\nto this effect. The Bavarian and W\u00fcrtemberg troops, to the number of\n19,000 men, were already on the march. The W\u00fcrtemberg army was entirely\nofficered by the Duke's own men. Orders had been issued to forbid the\nStuttgart Civil Guard from exercising and assembling, and ordering that\na general disarmament of the Civil Guard and of the peasants and\ncitizens should be enforced immediately the Duke had crossed the\nfrontier. All the fortresses in the duchy had been provided with\nabundance of ammunition and ordnance.\n\nAt Ludwigsburg the Duke halted to consult an astrologer as to the\nprospect of his undertaking. Suess laughed contemptuously at the\npretences of this man, and, pointing to a cannon, said to Charles\nAlexander, \"This is your best telescope.\"\n\nThe sealed orders were to be opened on the 13th, and on that day the\nstroke was to be dealt. Already Ludwigsburg was full of W\u00fcrzburg\nsoldiers. A courier of the Duke with a letter had, in a drunken\nsquabble, been deprived of the dispatch; this was opened and shown to\nthe Assembly, which assembled in all haste and alarm. It revealed the\nplot. At once some of the notables hastened to Ludwigsburg to have an\ninterview with their prince. He received them roughly, and dismissed\nthem without disavowing his intentions. The consternation became\ngeneral. The day was stormy; clouds were whirled across the sky, then\ncame a drift of hail, then a gleam of sun. At Ludwigsburg, the wind blew\nin whole ranges of windows, shivering the glass. The alarm-bells rang in\nthe church towers, for fire had broken out in the village of Eglosheim.\n\nThe Assembly sent another deputation to Ludwigsburg, consisting of\ntheir oldest and most respected members. They did not arrive till late,\nand unable to obtain access through the front gates, crept round by the\nkitchen entrance, and presented themselves unexpectedly before the Duke\nat ten o'clock at night, as he was retiring to rest from a ball that had\nbeen given. Dancing was still going on in one of the wings, and the\nstrains of music entered the chamber when the old notables of\nW\u00fcrtemberg, men of venerable age and high character, forced their way\ninto the Duke's presence.\n\nCharles Alexander had but just come away from the ball-room, seated\nhimself in an arm-chair, and drunk a powerful medicine presented him by\nhis chamberlain, Neuffer, in a silver bowl. Neuffer belonged to a family\nwhich had long been influential in W\u00fcrtemberg, honourable and patriotic.\nScarce had the Duke swallowed this draught when the deputation appeared.\nHe became livid with fury, and though the interview took place with\nclosed doors the servants without heard a violent altercation, and the\nDuke's voice raised as if he were vehemently excited. Presently the\ndoors opened and the deputation came forth, greatly agitated, one of the\nold men in his hurry forgetting to take his cap away with him. Scarcely\nwere they gone when Neuffer dismissed the servants, and himself went to\na further wing of the palace.\n\nThe Duke, still excited, suddenly felt himself unwell, ran into the\nantechamber, found no one there, staggered into a third, then a fourth\nroom, tore open a window, and shouted into the great court for help;\nbut his voice was drowned by the band in the illumined ball-room,\nplaying a valse. Then giddiness came over the Duke, and he fell to the\nground. The first to arrive was Neuffer, and he found him insensible. He\ndrew his knife and lanced him. Blood flowed. The Duke opened his eyes\nand gasped, \"What is the matter with me? I am dying!\" He was placed in\nan armchair, and died instantly.\n\nThat night not a window in Stuttgart had shown light. The town was as a\ncity of the dead. Everyone was in alarm as to what would ensue on the\nmorrow, but in secret arms were being distributed among the citizens and\nguilds. They would fight for their constitution. Suddenly, at midnight,\nthe news spread that the Duke was dead. At once the streets were full of\npeople, laughing, shouting, throwing themselves into each other's arms,\nand before another hour the windows were illuminated with countless\ncandles.[21]\n\nNot a moment was lost. Duke Charles Rudolf of W\u00fcrtemberg-Neuenstadt was\ninvested with the regency, and on March 19, General Remchingen was\narrested and deprived of his office.\n\nFor once Suess' cleverness failed him. Relying on his \"absolutorium,\" he\ndid not fly the country the moment he heard of the death of the Duke. He\nwaited till he could place his valuables in safety. He waited just too\nlong, for he was arrested and confined to his house. Then he did manage\nto escape, and got the start of his enemies by an hour, but was\nrecognised and stopped by a W\u00fcrtemberg officer, and reconducted to\nStuttgart, where he was almost torn to pieces by the infuriated\npopulace, and with difficulty rescued from their hands. On March 19, he\nwas sent to the fortress of Hohenneuffen; but thence he almost succeeded\nin effecting his escape by bribing the guards with the diamonds he had\nsecreted about his person.\n\nAt first Suess bore his imprisonment with dignity. He was confident, in\nthe first place, that the \"absolutorium\" would not be impeached, and in\nthe second, that there was no documentary evidence discoverable which\ncould incriminate him. But as his imprisonment was protracted, and as he\nsaw that the country demanded a victim for the wrongs it had suffered,\nhis confidence and self-respect left him. Nevertheless, it was not till\nthe last that he was convinced that his life as well as his ill-gotten\ngains would be taken from him, and then he became a despicable figure,\nentreating mercy, and eagerly seeking to incriminate others in the hopes\nof saving his own wretched life thereby.\n\nThere were plenty of others as guilty as Suess--nay, more so, for they\nwere natives of W\u00fcrtemberg, and he an alien in blood and religion. But\nthese others had relations and friends to intercede for them, and all\nfelt that Suess was the man to be made a scape-goat of, because he was\nfriendless.\n\nThe mode of his execution was barbarous. His trial had been protracted\nfor eleven months; at length, on February 4, 1738, he was led forth to\nexecution--to be hung in an iron cage. This cage had been made in 1596,\nand stood eight feet high, and was four feet in diameter. It was\ncomposed of seventeen bars and fourteen cross-bars, and was circular.\nThe gallows was thirty-five feet high. The wretched man was first\nstrangled in the cage, hung up in it like a dead bird, and then the cage\nwith him in it was hoisted up to the full height of the gallows-tree.\nHis wealth was confiscated.\n\nHallwachs and the other rascals who had been confederated with him in\nplundering their country were banished, but were allowed to depart with\nall their plunder.\n\nRemchingen also escaped; when arrested, he managed to get rid of all\ncompromising papers, which were given by him to a chimney-sweep sent to\nhim down the chimney by some of the agents of the Bishop of W\u00fcrzburg.\n\nSuch is the tragic story of the life of Suess Oppenheim, a man of no\nordinary abilities, remarkable shrewdness, but without a spark of\nprinciple. But the chief tragedy is to be found in the deterioration of\nthe character of Duke Charles Alexander, who, as Austrian field-marshal\nand governor of Servia, had been the soul of honour, generous and\nbeloved; who entered on his duchy not only promising good government,\nbut heartily desiring to rule well for his people's good; and who in\nless than four years had forfeited the love and respect of his subjects,\nand died meditating an act which would have branded him as\nperjured--died without having executed one of his good purposes, and so\nhated by the people who had cheered him on his entry into the capital,\nthat, by general consent, the mode of his death was not too curiously\nand closely inquired into.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[18] There was some idea of a younger brother being elected.\n\n[19] In three years Suess gained a profit of 20,000 florins out of the\nsale of jewellery alone.\n\n[20] The Duke, at Suess's instigation, wrote to the Emperor to get the\nJew factotum ennobled, but was refused.\n\n[21] On the following night a confectioner set up a transparency\nexhibiting the Devil carrying off the Duke.\n\n\n\n\nIgnatius Fessler.\n\n\nOn December 15th, 1839, in his eighty-fourth year, died Ignatius\nFessler, Lutheran Bishop, at St. Petersburg, a man who had gone through\nseveral phases of religious belief and unbelief, a Hungarian by birth, a\nRoman Catholic by education, a Capuchin friar, then a deist, almost, if\nnot quite, an atheist, professor of Oriental languages in the university\nof Lemberg, finally Lutheran Bishop in Finland.\n\nHe was principally remarkable as having been largely instrumental in\nproducing one of the most salutary reforms of the Emperor Joseph II.\n\nHis autobiography published by him in 1824, when he was seventy years\nold, affords a curious picture of the way in which Joseph carried out\nthose reforms, and enables us to see how it was that they roused so much\nopposition, and in so many cases failed to effect the good that was\ndesigned.\n\nFessler, in his autobiography, paints himself in as bright colours as he\ncan lay on, but it is impossible not to see that he was a man of little\nprinciple, selfish and heartless.\n\nThe autobiography is so curious, and the experiences of Fessler so\nvaried, the times in which he lived so eventful, and the book itself so\nlittle known, that a short account of his career may perhaps interest,\nand must be new to the generality of readers.\n\nIgnatius Fessler was the son of parents in a humble walk of life\nresident in Hungary, but Germans by extraction. Ignatius was born in the\nyear 1754, and as the first child, was dedicated by his mother to God.\nIt was usual at that time for such children to be dressed in\necclesiastical habits. Ignatius as soon as he could walk was invested in\na black cassock. His earliest reading was in the lives of the saints and\nmartyrs, but at his first Communion his mother gave him a Bible. That\nbook and Thomas \u00e0 Kempis were her only literature. Long-continued\nprayer, daily reading of religious books, and no others, moulded the\nopening mind of her child. Exactly the same process goes on in countless\npeasant houses in Catholic Austria and Germany and Switzerland at the\npresent day. No such education, no such walling off of the mind from\nsecular influences is possible in England or France. The first\nenthusiasm of the child was to become a saint, his highest ambition to\nbe a hermit or a martyr. At the age of seven he was given to be\ninstructed by a Jesuit father, and was shortly after admitted to\ncommunion. At the age of nine Ignatius could read and speak Latin, and\nthen he read with avidity Cardinal Bona's _Manductio ad Coelum_. His\neducation was in the hands of the Carmelites at Raab. Dr. Fessler\nrecords his affectionate remembrance of his master, Father Raphael.\nIgnatius lounged, and was lazy. \"Boy!\" said the Father, \"have done with\nlounging or you will live to be no good, but the laughing stock of old\nwomen. Look at me aged seventy, full of life and vigour, that comes of\nnot being a lounger when a boy.\" From the Carmelite school Ignatius\npassed into that of the Jesuits. His advance was rapid; but his reading\nwas still in Mystical Theology and his aim the attainment of the\ncontemplative, ecstatic life of devotion. So he reached his seventeenth\nyear.\n\nThen his mother took him to Buda, to visit his uncle who was lecturer on\nPhilosophy in the Capuchin Convent. The boy declared his desire to\nbecome a Franciscan. His mother and uncle gave their ready consent, and\nhe entered on his noviciate, under the name of Francis Innocent. \"The\nname Innocent became me well--really, at that time, I did not know the\ndifference between the sexes.\"\n\nIn 1774, when aged twenty, he took the oaths constituting him a friar.\nAll the fathers in the convent approved, except one old man, Peregrinus,\nwho remonstrated gravely, declaring that he foresaw that Fessler would\nbring trouble on the fraternity. Father Peregrinus was right, Fessler\nwas one to whom the life and rules and aim of the Order could never be\ncongenial. He had an eager, hungry mind, an insatiable craving for\nknowledge, and a passion for books. The Capuchins were, and still are,\nrecruited from the lowest of the people, ignorant peasants with a\ntraditional contempt for learning, and their teachers embued with the\nshallowest smattering of knowledge. Fessler, being devoid of means,\ncould not enter one of the cultured Orders, the Benedictines or the\nJesuits. Moreover, the Franciscan is, by his vow, without property, he\nmust live by begging, a rule fatal to self-respect, and fostering\nidleness. S. Francis, the founder, was a scion of a mercantile class,\nand the beggary which he imposed on his Order, was due to his revolt\nagainst the money-greed of his class. But it has been a fruitful source\nof mischief. It deters men with any sense of personal dignity from\nentering the Order, and it invites into it the idle and the ignorant.\nThe Franciscan Order has been a fruitful nursery of heresies, schisms\nand scandals. Now old Father Peregrinus had sufficient insight into\nhuman nature to see and judge that a man of pride, intellectual power,\nand culture of mind, would be as a fish on dry land in the Capuchin\nfraternity. He was not listened to. Fessler was too young to know\nhimself, and the fathers too eager to secure a man of promise and\nability.\n\n\"The guardian, Coelestine, an amiable man, took a liking to me. He\ntaught me to play chess, and he played more readily with me than with\nany of the rest, which, not a little, puffed up my self-esteem. The\nlibrarian, Leonidas, was an old, learned, obliging man, dearly loving\nhis flowers. I fetched the water for him to his flower-beds, and he\nshowed me his gratitude by letting me have the run of the library.\"\n\nThe library was not extensive, the books nearly all theological, and the\nvolume which Fessler was most attracted by was Barbanson's \"Ways of\nDivine Love.\"\n\nIn 1775, Fessler made the acquaintance of a Calvinist Baron, who lent\nhim Fleury's \"Ecclesiastical History.\" This opened the young man's eyes\nto the fact that the Church was not perfect, that the world outside the\nChurch was not utterly graceless. He read his New Testament over seven\ntimes in that year. Then his Calvinist friend lent him Muratori's\n\"Treatise on the Mystical Devotions of the Monks.\" His confidence was\nshaken. He no longer saw in the Church the ideal of purity and perfect\ninfallibility; he saw that Mystical Theology was a geography of cloud\ncastles. What profit was there in it? To what end did the friars live?\nTo grow cabbages, make snuff-boxes, cardboard cases, which they\npainted--these were their practical labours; the rest of their time was\nspent in prayer and meditation.\n\nThen the young friar got hold of Hofmann-Waldau's poems, and the\nsensuousness of their pictures inflamed his imagination at the very time\nwhen religious ecstasy ceased to attract him.\n\nWhat the result might have been, Fessler says, he trembles to think, had\nhe not been fortified by Seneca. It is curious to note, and\ncharacteristic of the man, that he was saved from demoralisation, not by\nthe New Testament, which did not touch his heart, but by Seneca's moral\naxioms, which convinced his reason. The Franciscans are allowed great\nliberty. They run over the country collecting alms, they visit whom they\nwill, and to a man without principle, such liberty offers dangerous\noccasions.\n\nFessler now resolved to leave an Order which was odious to him.\n\"Somewhat tranquillized by Seneca, I now determined to shake myself\nloose from the trammels of the cloister, without causing scandal. The\nmost easy way to do this was for me to take Orders, and get a cure of\nsouls or a chaplaincy to a nobleman.\" He had no vocation for the\nministry; he looked to it merely as a means of escape from uncongenial\nsurroundings. On signifying his desire to become a priest, he was\ntransferred to Gross Wardein, there to pass the requisite course of\nstudies. At Wardein he gained the favour of the bishop and some of the\ncanons, who lent him books on the ecclesiastical and political history\nof his native land. He also made acquaintance with some families in the\ntown, a lady with two daughters, with the elder of whom he fell in love.\nHe had, however, sufficient decency not to declare his passion. It was\notherwise with a young Calvinist tailor's widow, Sophie; she replied to\nhis declaration very sensibly by a letter, which, he declares, produced\na lasting effect upon him.\n\nIn 1776 he was removed to Schw\u00e4chat to go through a course of Moral\nTheology. His disgust at his enforced studies, which he regarded as the\nthrashing of empty husks, increased. He was angry at his removal from\nthe friends he had made at Wardein. Vexation, irritation, doubt, threw\nhim into a fever, and he was transferred to the convent in the suburbs\nof Vienna, where he could be under better medical care. The physician\nwho attended him soon saw that his patient's malady was mental. Fessler\nopened his heart to him, and begged for the loan of books more feeding\nto the brain than the mystical rubbish in the convent library. The\ndoctor advised him to visit him, when discharged as cured from the\nconvent infirmary, instead of at once returning to Schw\u00e4chat. This he\ndid, and the doctor introduced him to two men of eminence and influence,\nVon Eybel and the prelate Rautenstrauch, a Benedictine abbot, the\ndirector of the Theological Faculties in the Austrian Monarchy. This\nlatter promised Fessler to assist him in his studies, and urged him to\nstudy Greek and Hebrew, also to widen the circle of his reading, to make\nacquaintance with law, history, with natural science and geography, and\nundertook to provide him with the requisite books.\n\nOn his return to Schw\u00e4chat, Fessler appealed to the Provincial against\nhis Master of Studies whom he pronounced to be an incompetent pedant. At\nhis request he was moved to Wiener-Neustadt. There he found the lecturer\non Ecclesiastical Studies as superficial as the man from whom he had\nescaped. This man did not object to Fessler pursuing his Greek and\nHebrew studies, nor to his taking from the library what books he liked.\n\nThe young candidate now borrowed and devoured deistical works, Hobbes,\nTindal, Edelmann, and the Wolfenb\u00fcttel Fragments. He had to be careful\nnot to let these books be seen, accordingly he hid them under the floor\nin the choir. After midnight, when matins had been sung, instead of\nreturning to bed with the rest, he remained, on the plea of devotion, in\nthe church, seated on the altar steps, reading deistical works by the\nlight of the sanctuary lamp, which he pulled down to a proper level. He\nnow completely lost his faith, not in Christianity only, but in natural\nreligion as well. Nevertheless, he did not desist from his purpose of\nseeking orders. He was ordained deacon in 1778, and priest in 1779. \"On\nthe Sunday after Corpus Christi, I celebrated without faith, without\nunction, my first mass, in the presence of my mother, her brother, and\nthe rest of my family. They all received the communion from my hand,\nbathed in tears of emotion. I, who administered to them, was frozen in\nunbelief.\"\n\nThe cure of souls he desired was not given him, no chaplaincy was\noffered him. His prospect of escape seemed no better than before. He\nbecame very impatient, and made himself troublesome in his convent. As\nmight have been suspected, he became restive under the priestly\nobligations, as he had been under the monastic rule. It is curious that,\nlate in life, when Fessler wrote his memoirs, he showed himself blind to\nthe unworthiness of his conduct in taking on him the most sacred\nresponsibilities to God and the Church, when he disbelieved in both. He\nis, however, careful to assure us that though without faith in his\nfunctions, he executed them punctually, hearing confessions, preaching\nand saying mass. But his conduct is so odious, his after callousness so\nconspicuous, that it is difficult to feel the smallest conviction of his\nconscientiousness at any time of his life.\n\nAs he made himself disagreeable to his superiors at Neustadt, he was\ntransferred to M\u00f6dling. There he made acquaintance with a Herr Von\nMolinari and was much at his house, where he met a young Countess\nLouise. \"I cannot describe her stately form, her arching brows, the\nexpression of her large blue eyes, the delicacy of her mouth, the music\nof her tones, the exquisite harmony that exists in all her movements,\nand what affects me more than all--she speaks Latin easily, and only\nreads serious books.\" So wrote Fessler in a letter at the time. He read\nOvid's Metamorphoses with her in the morning, and walked with her in the\nevening. When, at the end of October, the family went to Vienna, \"the\nabsence of that noble soul,\" he wrote, \"filled me with the most poignant\ngrief.\" The Molinari family were bitten with Jansenism, and hoped to\nbring the young Capuchin to their views. Next year, in the spring of\n1781, they returned to M\u00f6dling.\n\n\"This year passed like the former; in the convent I was a model of\nobedience, in the school a master of scholastic theology: in Molinari's\nfamily a humble disciple of Jansen, in the morning a worshipper of the\nmuse of Louise, in the evening an agreeable social companion,\"--in\nheart--an unbeliever in Christianity.\n\nA letter written to an uncle on March 12th, 1782, must be quoted\nverbatim, containing as it does a startling discovery, which gave him\nthe opportunity so long desired, of breaking with the Order:--\n\n\"Since the 23rd February, I sing without intermission after David, in my\ninmost heart, 'Praise and Glory be to God, who has delivered my enemies\ninto my hand!' Listen to the wonderful way in which this has happened.\nOn the night of the 23rd to 24th of February, after eleven o'clock, I\nwas roused from sleep by a lay-brother. 'Take your crucifix,' said he\n'and follow me.'\n\n\"'Whither?' I asked, panic struck.\n\n\"'Whither I am about to lead you.'\n\n\"'What am I to do?'\n\n\"'I will tell you, when you are on the spot.'\n\n\"'Without knowing whither I go, and for what purpose, go I will not.'\n\n\"'The Guardian has given the order; by virtue of holy obedience you are\nbound to follow whither I lead.'\n\n\"As soon as holy obedience is involved, no resistance can be offered.\nFull of terror, I took my crucifix and followed the lay-brother, who\nwent before with a dark lantern. Passing the cell of one of my fellow\nscholars, I slipped in, shook him out of sleep, and whispered in Latin\ntwice in his ear, 'I am carried off, God knows whither. If I do not\nappear to-morrow, communicate with Rautenstrauch.'\n\n\"Our way led through the kitchen, and beyond it through a couple of\nchambers; on opening the last, the brother said, 'Seven steps down.' My\nheart contracted, I thought I was doomed to see the last of day-light.\nWe entered a narrow passage, in which I saw, half way down it, on the\nright, a little altar, on the left some doors fastened with padlocks. My\nguide unlocked one of these, and said, 'Here is a dying man, Brother\nNicomede, a Hungarian, who knows little German, give him your spiritual\nassistance. I will wait here. When he is dead, call me.'\n\n\"Before me lay an old man on his pallet, in a worn-out habit, on a straw\npalliasse, under a blanket; his hood covered his grey head, a snow-white\nbeard reached to his girdle. Beside the bedstead was an old\nstraw-covered chair, a dirty table, on which was a lamp burning. I spoke\na few words to the dying man, who had almost lost his speech; he gave me\na sign that he understood me. There was no possibility of a confession.\nI spoke to him about love to God, contrition for sin, and hope in the\nmercy of heaven; and when he squeezed my hand in token of inward\nemotion, I pronounced over him the General Absolution. The rest of the\nwhile I was with him, I uttered slowly, and at intervals, words of\ncomfort and hope of eternal blessedness. About three o'clock, after a\ndeath agony of a quarter-of-an-hour, he had passed out of the reach of\ntrouble.\n\n\"Before I called the lay-brother, I looked round the prison, and then\nswore over the corpse to inform the Emperor of these horrors. Then I\nsummoned the lay-brother, and said, coldly, 'Brother Nicomede is gone.'\n\n\"'A good thing for him, too,' answered my guide, in a tone equally\nindifferent.\n\n\"'How long has he been here?'\n\n\"'Two and fifty years.'\n\n\"'He has been severely punished for his fault.'\n\n\"'Yes, yes. He has never been ill before. He had a stroke yesterday,\nwhen I brought him his meal.'\n\n\"'What is the altar for in the passage?'\n\n\"'One of the fathers says mass there on all festivals for the lions, and\ncommunicates them. Do you see, there is a little window in each of the\ndoors, which is then opened, and through it the lions make their\nconfession, hear mass, and receive communion.'\n\n\"'Have you many lions here?'\n\n\"'Four, two priests and two lay-brothers to be attended on.'\n\n\"'How long have they been here?'\n\n\"'One for fifty, another for forty-two, the third for fifteen, and the\nlast for nine years.'\n\n\"'Why are they here?'\n\n\"'I don't know.'\n\n\"'Why are they called lions?'\n\n\"'Because I am called the lion-ward.'\n\n\"I deemed it expedient to ask no more questions. I got the lion-ward to\nlight me to my cell, and there in calmness considered what to do.\n\n\"Next day, or rather, that same day, Feb. 24th, I wrote in full all that\nhad occurred, in a letter addressed to the Emperor, with my signature\nattached. Shortly after my arrival in Vienna I had made the acquaintance\nof a Bohemian secular student named Bokorny, a trusty man. On the\nmorning of Feb. 25th, I made him swear to give my letter to the Emperor,\nand keep silence as to my proceeding.\n\n\"At 8 o'clock he was with my letter in the Couriers' lobby of the\npalace, where there is usually a crowd of persons with petitions\nawaiting the Emperor. Joseph took my paper from my messenger, glanced\nhastily at it, put it apart from the rest of the petitions, and let my\nmessenger go, after he had cautioned him most seriously to hold his\ntongue.\n\n\"The blow is fallen; what will be the result--whether anything will come\nof it, I do not yet know.\"\n\nFor many months no notice was taken of the letter. It was not possible\nfor the Emperor to take action at once, for a few days later Pius VI.\narrived in Vienna on a visit to Joseph.\n\nJoseph II. was an enthusiastic reformer; he had the liveliest regard for\nFrederick the Great, and tried to copy him, but, as Frederick said,\nJoseph always began where he ought to leave off. He had no sooner become\nEmperor (1780) than he began a multitude of reforms, with headlong\nimpetuosity. He supposed that every abuse was to be rooted up by an\nexercise of despotic power, and that his subjects would hail freedom and\nenlightenment with enthusiasm. Regardless of the power of hereditary\nassociation, he arbitrarily upset existing institutions, in the\nconviction that he was promoting the welfare of his subjects. He\nemancipated the Jews, and proclaimed liberty of worship to all religious\nbodies except the Deists, whom he condemned to receive five-and-twenty\nstrokes of the cane. He abolished the use of torture, and reorganised\nthe courts of justice.\n\nThe Pope, alarmed at the reforming spirit of Joseph, and the innovations\nhe was introducing into the management of the Church, crossed the Alps\nwith the hope that in a personal interview he might moderate the\nEmperor's zeal. He arrived only a few days after Joseph had received the\nletter of Ignatius Fessler, which was calculated to spur him to enact\nstill more sweeping reforms, and to steel his heart against the papal\nblandishments. Nothing could have come to his hands more opportunely.\n\nIn Vienna, in St. Stephen's, the Pope held a pontifical mass. The\nEmperor did not honour it by his presence. By order of Joseph, the back\ndoor of the papal lodging was walled up, that Pius might receive no\nvisitors unknown to the Emperor, and guards were placed at the entrance,\nto scrutinize those who sought the presence of the Pope. Joseph lost\ndignity by studied discourtesy; and Kaunitz, his minister, was allowed\nto be insulting. The latter received the Pope when he visited him, in\nhis dressing-gown, and instead of kissing his hand, shook it heartily.\nPius, after spending five weeks in Vienna without affecting anything,\nwas constrained to depart.\n\nFessler saw him thrice, once, when the Pope said mass in the Capuchin\nChurch, he stood only three paces from him. \"Never did faith and\nunbelief, Jansenism and Deism, struggle for the mastery in me more\nfuriously than then; tears flowed from my eyes, excited by my emotion,\nand at the end of the mass, I felt convinced that I had seen either a\nman as full of the burning love of God as a seraph, or the most\naccomplished actor in the world.\" Of the sincerity and piety of Pius VI.\nthere can be no question. He was a good man, but not an able man. \"At\nthe conclusion he turned to us young priests, asked of each his name,\nlength of time in the Order, and priesthood, about our studies, and\nexhorted us, in a fatherly tone, to be stout stones in the wall of the\nhouse of Israel, in times of trouble present and to come.\"\n\nBefore Pius departed, he gave his blessing to the people from the\nbalcony of the Jesuit Church. \"The Pope was seated on a throne under a\ngold-embroidered canopy. Fifty thousand persons must have been assembled\nbelow. Windows were full of heads, every roof crowded. The Pope wore his\ntriple-crowned tiara, and was attended by three cardinals and two\nbishops in full pontificals. He intoned the form of absolution, in\nfar-reaching voice, which was taken up by the court choir of four\nhundred voices. When this was done, Pius rose from his throne, the tiara\nwas removed from his head, he stepped forward, raised eyes and arms to\nheaven, and in a pure ecstasy of devotion poured forth a fervent prayer.\nOnly sighs and sobs broke occasionally the perfect silence which\nreigned among the vast throng of kneeling persons in the great square.\nThe Pope seemed rather to be raised in ecstasy from his feet, than to\nstand. The prayer lasted long, and the bishops put their hands to stay\nup his arms; it was like Moses on the mountain top, with the rod of God\nin his hand, supported by Aaron and Hur, as he prayed for his people\nstriving below with Amalek. At last this second Moses let his arms fall,\nhe raised his right hand, and blessed the people in the name of the\nTriune God. At the Amen, the cannon of the Freiung boomed, and were\nanswered by all the artillery on the fortifications of the city.\"\n\nThe Pope was gone, and still no notice taken of the petition. Molinari\nspoke to Fessler, who was very hot about reform, and had drawn up a\nscheme for the readjustment of the Church in the Empire, which he sent\nto some of the ministers of the Emperor. \"My friend,\" said Molinari, \"to\npull down and to rebuild, to destroy and to re-create, are serious\nmatters, only to be taken in hand by one who has an earnest vocation,\nand not to be made a means for self-seeking.\"\n\nFessler admits that there was truth in the reproach, he was desirous of\npushing himself into notice, and he cared for the matter of \"the lions,\"\nonly because he thought they would serve his selfish purpose. Joseph now\nissued an order that no member of a monastic order was to be admitted to\na benefice who had not passed an examination before the teachers of the\nSeminaries. The superiors of the Capuchins forbade their candidates\ngoing into these examinations. Fessler stirred up revolt, and he and\nsome others, acting under his advice, demanded to be admitted to\nexamination. His superior then informed him that he was not intended by\nthe Order to take a cure of souls, he was about to be appointed lecturer\non Philosophy in one of the convents in Hungary. In order to prevent his\nremoval, and to force the Order to an open rupture with him, Fessler had\nrecourse to a most unseemly and ungenerous act. Whilst in Vienna, he had\nmade the acquaintance of an unmarried lady, the Baroness E. He had\nassisted her in her studies, giving her instructions usually by letter.\nHis acquaintance, Von Eybel, had written a book or tract, which had made\na great stir, entitled, \"Who is the Pope?\" Fessler wrote another,\nentitled, \"Who is the Emperor?\" He sent a copy to the publisher, but\nretained the original MS. Fessler now wrote under a feigned name, and in\na disguised hand, a letter to Father Maximus, guardian of the convent,\ncharging himself with carrying on a guilty correspondence with the\nBaroness E., and with the composition of an inflammatory and\nanti-religious pamphlet, \"Who is the Emperor?\" Maximus at once visited\nthe Baroness, and showed her the letter. The lady in great indignation\nproduced the entire correspondence, and handed the letters to him.\nMaximus put them in the hands of the Lector of the convent, who visited\nFessler, and asked him if he acknowledged the authorship of \"these\nscandalous letters.\"\n\n\"Scandalous, they are not,\" answered Fessler.\n\n\"_Impius, cum in profundum venerit, contemnit_,\" roared the friar. \"They\nare not only scandalous, but impious. Look at this letter on platonic\nlove. Is that a fit letter for such as you to write to a lady?\"\n\nIn consequence of these letters, and the MS. of the pamphlet being found\nupon him, Fessler was denounced to the Consistorial Court of the\nArchbishop. He was summoned before it at the beginning of August, when\nhe was forced to admit he had been wont to kiss the lady to whom he\nwrote on platonic love, and the Consistory suspended him from the\nexercise of his priestly functions for a month.\n\n\"I and the Lector returned to the convent silent, as if strangers. When\nwe arrived, the friars were at table. I do not know how I got to my\nplace; but after I had drunk my goblet of wine, all was clearer about\nme. I seemed to hear the voice of Horace calling to me from heaven,\n_Perfer et obdura!_ and in a moment my self-respect revived, and I\nlooked with scorn on the seventy friars hungrily eating their dinner.\"\n\nOf his own despicable conduct, that he had richly deserved his\npunishment, Fessler never seems to have arrived at the perception. He\nwas, indeed, a very pitiful creature, arousing disgust and contempt in a\nwell-ordered mind; and his Memoirs only deserve notice because of the\ncurious insight they afford into the inner life of convents, and because\nhe was the means of bringing great scandals to light, and in assisting\nJoseph II. in his work of reform.\n\nAt the beginning of September, 1782, Fessler was the means of bringing a\nfresh scandal before the eyes of the Emperor. During the preceding year,\na saddler in Schw\u00e4chat had lost his wife, and was left, not only a\nwidower, but childless. His niece now kept house for him, and was much\nafraid lest her uncle should marry again, and that thus she should not\nbecome his heir. She consulted a Capuchin, Father Brictius. Fessler had\nbeen in the Schw\u00e4chat convent, and knew the man. Soon after, the niece\nassured her uncle that the ghost of her aunt had appeared to her, and\ntold her she was suffering in Purgatory. For her release, she must have\nten masses said, and some wax candles burnt. The saddler was content to\nhave his old woman \"laid\" at this price. But, after the tenth mass, the\nniece declared she had seen her aunt again, and that the spirit had\nappeared to her in the presence of Father Brictius, and told her, that\nwhat troubled her most of all was the suspicion she was under, that her\nhusband purposed marrying again; and she assured him, that were he so to\ndo, he would lose his soul, in token whereof, she laid her hand on the\ncover of the niece's prayer-book, and left the impression burnt into it.\n\nFather Brictius carried the scorched book all round the neighbourhood,\nthe marks of thumb and five fingers were clearly to be seen, burnt into\nthe wooden cover. Great was the excitement, and on all sides masses for\nsouls were in demand. Some foolish pastors even preached on the marvel.\n\nIt happened that a Viennese boy was apprenticed to a tinker at\nSchw\u00e4chat; and the boy came home every Saturday evening, to spend the\nday with his parents, at Vienna. He generally brought Fessler some\nlittle presents or messages from his friends at Schw\u00e4chat. One day, the\nboy complained to Fessler that he had been severely beaten by his\nmaster. On being asked the reason, he replied, that he had been engaged\nwith the tinker making an iron hand, and that he had spoiled it. Shortly\nafter this, the rumour of the miraculous hand laid on the prayer-book,\nreached the convent. Fessler put the circumstances together, and\nsuspected he was on the track of a fraud. He went at once to one of the\nministers of the Emperor, and told him what he knew.\n\nAn imperial commission was issued, the tinker, the saddler's niece, and\nFather Brictius, were arrested, cross-questioned, and finally, confessed\nthe trick. The tinker was sent to prison for some months, the woman, for\nsome weeks, and the Franciscan was first imprisoned, and then banished\nthe country. An account of the fraud was issued, by Government\nauthority, and every parish priest was ordered to read it to his\nparishioners from the pulpit.\n\nThe Capuchins at Vienna, after this, were more impatient than before to\nsend Fessler to Hungary, and he was forced to appeal to the Emperor to\nprevent his removal.\n\nSuddenly, quite unexpectedly, in the beginning of October--seven months\nafter Fessler had sent the Emperor an account of the prison in the\nconvent, and when he despaired of notice being taken of it--some\nimperial commissioners visited the convent, and demanded in the name of\nthe Emperor to be shown all over it. At the head of the Commission was\nH\u00e4gelin, to whom Fessler had told his suspicions about the iron hand.\n\nThe commissioners visited all the cells, and the infirmary, then asked\nthe Guardian thrice on his honour, and in the name of the Emperor,\nwhether there was a prison in the convent. Thrice the Guardian replied\nthat there was not. \"Let us now visit the kitchen,\" said H\u00e4gelin, and in\nspite of the protests and excuses of the Guardian, he insisted on being\ntaken there. Beyond the kitchen was the wash-house. The commissioners\nwent further, and found a small locked door. They insisted on its being\nopened. Then the Guardian turned pale and nearly fainted. The door was\nthrown open, the cells were unlocked, and the lay brothers ordered to\nbring the prisoners into the refectory. There the commissioners remained\nalone with the unfortunates to take down their depositions. It was found\nthat three, Fathers Florentine, and Paternus, and the lay brother,\nNemesian, were out of their minds. The \"lion-ward\" was summoned to\nanswer for them. From his account, it transpired that Nemesian had gone\nout of his mind through religious enthusiasm; he was aged seventy-one,\nand had been fifty years in the dungeon. Father Florentine was aged\nseventy-three, he had been in confinement for forty-two years for boxing\nthe Guardian's ears in a fit of temper. Father Paternus was locked up\nbecause he used to leave his convent without permission, and when\nrebuked would not give up his independent conduct. He had been fifteen\nyears in prison. His confinement had bereft him of his senses. As the\nremaining two were in full possession of their faculties, the\n\"lion-ward\" was now dismissed. The lay brother Barnabas said he had been\na shopkeeper's servant in Vienna, he had fallen in love with his\nmaster's daughter. As his master refused to have him as his son-in-law,\nout of despair he had gone into the Capuchin Order. During his\nnoviciate, the master died; the master of the novices stopped the letter\ninforming him of this, and he took the vows, to discover, when too late,\nthat the girl loved him, and was ready to take him. In his mad rage, he\nflung his rosary at the feet of the Guardian, declaring he would never\nconfess to, or receive the communion from the hands of a father of this\naccursed Order. He had been nine years in prison, and was thirty-eight\nyears old.\n\nFather Thuribius had been caught reading Wieland, Gellert, Rabener, &c.;\nthey had been taken from him. He got hold of other copies, they were\ntaken away a second time. A third time he procured them, and when\ndiscovered, fought with his fists for their retention. He had been\nrepeatedly given the cat o' nine tails, and had been locked up five\nmonths and ten days. His age was twenty-eight.\n\nThe commissioners at once suspended the Provincial and the Guardian till\nfurther notice, and the five unfortunates were handed over to the care\nof the Brothers of Charity.\n\nThat same day, throughout the entire monarchy, every monastery and\nnunnery was visited by imperial commissioners.\n\nAt the same time, the Emperor Joseph issued an order that Fessler was on\nno account to be allowed to leave Vienna, and that he took him under his\nimperial protection against all the devices of his monastic enemies.\n\n\"Now came the sentence on the Guardian and the Provincial from the\nEmperor. They were more severely punished than perhaps they really\ndeserved. I felt for their sufferings more keenly, because I was well\naware that I had been moved to report against them by any other motive\nrather than humanity; and even the consequences of my revelation, the\nsetting at liberty of a not inconsiderable number of unfortunate monks\nand nuns throughout the Austrian Empire, could not set my conscience at\nrest. Only the orders made by the Emperor rendering it impossible to\nrepeat such abuses, brought me any satisfaction. The monastic prisons\nwere everywhere destroyed. Transgression of rules was henceforth to be\npunished only by short periods of seclusion, and cases of insanity were\nto be sent to the Brothers of Charity, who managed the asylums.\"\n\nIf Joseph II. had but possessed commonsense as well as enthusiasm, he\nwould have left his mark deeper on his country than he did.\n\nFessler laid before him the schedule of studies in the Franciscan\nConvents. Joseph then issued an order (6th April, 1782), absolutely\nprohibiting the course of studies in the cloisters. When Fessler saw\nthat the Guardian of his convent was transgressing the decree, he\nappealed against him to the Emperor, and had him dismissed. Next year\nJoseph required all the students of the Capuchin Order to enter the\nseminaries, and pass thence through the Universities. But,\nunfortunately, Joseph had taken a step to alienate from him the bishops\nand secular clergy, as well as the monks and friars. He arbitrarily\nclosed all the diocesan seminaries, and created seminaries of his own\nfor the candidates for Orders, to which he appointed the professors,\nthus entirely removing the education of the clergy from the hands of the\nChurch. When the Bishop of Goritz expressed his dissatisfaction, Joseph\nsuppressed his see and banished him. The professors he appointed to the\nuniversities, to the chairs which were attended by candidates for\nOrders, were in many cases free-thinkers and rationalists. The professor\nof Biblical Exegesis at Vienna was an ex-Jesuit, Monsperger, \"His\nreligious system,\" says Fessler, who attended his course, \"was simply\nthis,--a wise enjoyment of life, submission to the inevitable, and\nprudence of conduct. That was all. He had no other idea of Church than a\nreciprocal bond of rights and duties. In his lectures he whittled all\nthe supernatural out of the Old Testament, and taught his pupils to\nregard the book as a collection of myths, romance, and contradictions.\nHis lectures brought me back from my trifling with Jansenism to the\npoint I had been at four years before under the teaching of Hobbes,\nTindal, and the Wolfenb\u00fcttel Fragments. I resolved to doubt everything\nsupernatural and divine, without actually denying such thing.--Strange!\nI resolved to disbelieve, when I never had believed.\"\n\nOn Feb. 6th, 1784, he received the Emperor's appointment to the\nprofessorships of Biblical Exegesis and Oriental languages in the\nUniversity of Lemberg. On the 20th Feb., on the eve of starting for\nLemberg, for ever to cast off the hated habit of S. Francis, and to\nshake off, as much as he dare, the trammels of the priesthood, Fessler\nwas in his cell at midnight, counting the money he had received for his\njourney. \"To the right of me, on the table was a dagger, given me as a\nparting present by the court secretary, Grossinger. I was thinking of\nretiring to rest, when my cell door was burst open, and in rushed Father\nSergius, a great meat-knife in his hand, shouting, _Moriere\nhoeretice!_ he struck at my breast. In an instant I seized my dagger,\nparried the blow, and wounded my assailant in the hand. He let the knife\nfall and ran away. I roused the Guardian, told him what had occurred,\nand advised what was to be done. Sergius, armed with two similar knives,\nhad locked himself into his cell. At the command of the Guardian six\nlay-brothers burst open the door, and beat the knives from his hands\nwith sticks, then dragged him off to the punishment-cell, where they\nplaced him under watch. Next morning I went with the Guardian, as I had\nadvised, to the president of the Spiritual Commission, the Baron von\nKresel, to inform him that Father Sergius had gone raving mad, and to\nask that he might be committed to the custody of the Brothers of Mercy.\nThis was at once granted; and I left the Guardian to instruct the\nfanatic how to comport himself in the hospital as a lunatic, so as not\nto bring his superiors into further difficulties.\"\n\nThe first acquaintance Fessler made in Lemberg, was a renegade\nFranciscan friar, who had been appointed Professor of Physic, \"He was a\nman of unbounded ambition and avarice, a political fanatic, and a\ncomplete atheist.\" Joseph afterwards appointed this man to be mitred\nabbot of Zazv\u00e1r. He died on the scaffold in 1795, executed for high\ntreason.\n\nThe seminarists of the Catholic and of the Uniat Churches as well as the\npupils from the religious Orders were obliged to attend Fessler's\nlectures. These were on the lines of these of Monsperger. Some of the\nclergy in charge of the Seminarists were so uneasy at Fessler's teaching\nthat they stood up at his lectures and disputed his assertions; but\nFessler boasts that after a couple of months he got the young men round\nto his views, and they groaned, hooted and stamped down the\nremonstrants. He published at this time two works, _Institutiones\nlinguarum orientalium_, and a Hebrew anthology for the use of the\nstudents. In the latter he laid down certain canons for the\ninterpretation of the Old Testament, by means of which everything\nmiraculous might be explained away.\n\nIt was really intolerable that the candidates for orders should be\nforcibly taught to disbelieve everything their Church required them to\nhold. In his inspection of the monasteries, in the suppression of many,\nJoseph acted with justice, and the conscience of the people approved,\nbut in this matter of the education of the clergy he violated the\nprinciples of common justice, and the consequence was such wide-spread\nirritation, that Joseph for a moment seemed inclined to give way. That\nJoseph knew the rationalism of Fessler is certain. The latter gives a\nconversation he had with the Emperor, in which they discussed the\n\"Ruah,\" the Spirit of God, which moved on the face of the waters, as\nsaid in the first chapter of Genesis. Fessler told him that he\nconsidered \"the expression to be a Hebrew superlative, and to mean no\nmore than that a violent gale was blowing. Possibly,\" he added, \"Moses\nmay have thought of the Schiva in the Hindoo Trimurti; for he was reared\nin all the wisdom of the Egyptians, who were an Ethiopic race, which was\nin turn an Indian colony.\" Dr. Fessler's Ethnology was faulty, whatever\nmay be thought of his Theology.\n\nAfter having given this explanation to the Emperor, Fessler boldly asked\nhim for a bishopric--he who loathed his priesthood and disbelieved in\nrevealed religion!\n\nJoseph did not give him a mitre, but made him Professor of Doctrinal\nTheology and Catholic Polemics as well as of Biblical Exegesis. This did\nnot satisfy the ambitious soul of Fessler, he was bent on a mitre. He\nwaited with growing impatience. He sent his books to Joseph. He did his\nutmost to force himself into his notice. But the desired mitre did not\ncome.\n\nFessler complains that scandalous stories circulated about him whilst at\nLemberg, and these possibly may have reached the imperial ears. He\nasserts, and no doubt with perfect truth, that these were unfounded. He\nhad made himself bitter enemies, and they would not scruple to defame\nhim. He boasts that at Lemberg he contracted no Platonic alliances; he\nhad no _attachements de coeur_ there at all.\n\nThe Emperor seemed to have forgotten him, to have cast aside his useful\ntool. Filled with the bitterness of defeated ambition, in 1788 he wrote\na drama, entitled James II., a covert attack on his protector, Joseph\nII., whom he represented as falling away in his enthusiasm for reform,\nand succumbing to the gathering hostility of Obscurantists and Jesuits.\n\nThis was not the case, but Joseph was in trouble with his refractory\nsubjects in the Low Countries, who would not have his seminaries and\nprofessors, who subscribed for the support of the ousted teachers, and\nrioted at the introduction of the new professors to the University of\nLouvain.\n\nThe play was put into rehearsal, but the police interfered, and it was\nforbidden. Fessler either feared or was warned that he was about to be\narrested, and he escaped over the frontier into Prussian Silesia. Joseph\nII. died in 1790, broken in spirit by his failures.\n\nFessler, after his escape from Austria, became a salaried reader and\nsecretary to the Count of Carolath, whose wife was a princess of\nSaxe-Meiningen.\n\nAfter a while he married a young woman of the middle class; he seems to\nhave doubted whether they would be happy together, after he had\nproposed, accordingly he wrote her a long epistle, in the most pedantic\nand dictorial style, informing her of what his requirements were, and\nwarning her to withdraw from the contemplated union, if she were not\nsure she would come up to the level of the perfect wife. The poor\ncreature no doubt wondered at the marvellous love letter, but had no\nhesitation in saying she would do her duty up to her lights. The result\nwas not happy. They led together a cat-and-dog life for ten years. She\nwas a homely person without intellectual parts, and he was essentially a\nbook-worm. He admits that he did not shine in society, and leaves it to\nbe understood that the loss was on the side of inappreciative society,\nbut we can not help suspecting that he was opinionated, sour, and\nuncouth. All these qualities were intensified in the narrow circle of\nhome. After ten years of misery he divorced his wife on the ground of\nmutual incompatibility. For a livelihood he took up Freemasonry, and\nwent about founding lodges. There were three rogues at that period who\nworked Freemasonry for their own ends, the Darmstadt Court Chaplain,\nStarck, a Baron von Hundt, and a certain Becker, who called himself\nJohnson, and pretended to be a delegate from the mysterious, unknown\nhead of the Society in Aberdeen. They called themselves Masons of the\nStrict Observance, but were mere swindlers.\n\nAfter a while, Freemasonry lost its attractions for Fessler, probably it\nceased to pay, and then he left Breslau, and wandered into Prussia. He\nwrote a novel called \"Marcus Aurelius,\" glorifying that emperor, for\nwhom he entertained great veneration, and did other literary work, which\nbrought him in a little money. Then he married again, a young, beautiful\nand gifted woman, with a small property. He was very happy in his\nchoice, but less happy in the speculation in which he invested her money\nand that of her sisters. It failed, and they were reduced to extreme\npoverty. What became of the sisters we do not know. Fessler with his\nwife and children went into Russia, and sponged for some time on the\nMoravian Brothers, who treated him with great kindness, and lent him\nmoney, \"Which,\" he says, in his autobiography, \"I have not yet been able\nto pay back altogether.\"\n\nHe lost some of his children. Distress, pecuniary embarrassments, and\nsickness, softened his heart, and perhaps with that was combined a\nperception that if he could get a pastorate he would be provided\nfor;[22] this led to a conversion, which looks very much as if it were\ncopied from the famous conversion of St. Augustine. It possibly was, to\nsome extent, sincere; he recovered faith in God, and joined the Lutheran\ncommunity. Then he had his case and attainments brought under the notice\nof the Czar, who was, at the time, as Fessler probably knew, engaged in\na scheme for organising the Lutheran bodies in Finland into a Church\nunder Episcopal government. He chose Fessler to be bishop of Saratow,\nand had him consecrated by the Swedish bishops, \"Who,\" says Fessler,\n\"like the Anglican bishops, have preserved the Apostolic succession.\" He\nmakes much of this point, a curious instance of the revival in his mind\nof old ideas imbibed in his time of Catholicity. . According to his own\naccount, he was a bishop quite on the Apostolic model, and worked very\nhard to bring his diocese into order. His ordination was in 1820. In\n1833, the Saratow consistory was dissolved, and he retired to St.\nPetersburg, where he was appointed general superintendent of the\nLutheran community in the capital. He married a third time, but says\nvery little of the last wife. He concludes with this estimate of his own\ncharacter, which is hardly that at which a reader of his autobiography\nwould arrive. \"Earnestness and cheerfulness, rapid decision, and\nunbending determination, manly firmness and childlike\ntrueheartedness--these are the ever recurring fundamental\ncharacteristics of my nature. Add to these a gentle mysticism, to\nsurround the others with colour and unite them in harmony. Sometimes it\nmay be that dissonances occur, it may be true that occasionally I\nthunder with powerful lungs in my house, as if I were about to wreck and\nshatter everything, but that is called forth only by what is wrong. In\nmy inmost being calm, peace, and untroubled cheerfulness reign supreme.\nDiscontent, wrath, venom and gall, have not embittered one moment of my\nlife.\"[23]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[22] He had, however, just received a pension from the Czar, so that he\nwas relieved from abject poverty.\n\n[23] \"Of myself,\" he says, \"I must confess that I have heard great and\nfamous preachers, true Bourdaloues, Massillons, Zollikofers, &c, in\nVienna, Carolath, Breslau, Berlin, Dresden, Leipzig, Hanover, and have\nbeen pleased with the contents, arrangement, and delivery of their\nsermons; but never once have I felt my heart stirred with religious\nemotion. On the contrary, on the 25th March, 1782, when Pius VI. said\nmass in the Capuchin Church, and on the 31st March, when he blessed the\npeople, I trembled on the edge of conviction and religious faith, and\nwas only held back by my inability to distinguish between religion and\nthe Church system. Still more now does the Sermon on the Mount move me,\nand for the last 23 years the divine liturgical prayer in John xvii.,\ndoes not fail to stir my very soul.\"\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n_S. Cowan & Co., Printers, Perth._\n\n\n\n\nADVERTISEMENTS\n\n\nMESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST OF NEW AND FORTHCOMING WORKS.\n\n\n_By the Author of_ \"DONOVAN,\" \"WE TWO,\" _&c._\n\n\n     Derrick Vaughan, Novelist. By EDNA LYALL. Post 8vo, 2s. 6d.\n     _Twenty-fourth Thousand._\n\n\n     Our English Villages: their Story and their Antiquities. By P. H.\n     DITCHFIELD, M.A., F.R.H.S., Rector of Barkham, Berks. Post 8vo, 2s.\n     6d. _Illustrated._\n\n\n_By the Author of_ \"MEHALAH,\" \"JOHN HERRING,\" _&c._\n\n\n     Historic Oddities and Strange Events. By S. BARING GOULD, M.A.\n     First Series. Demy 8vo, 10s. 6d.\n\n\n_By the same Author._\n\n\n     Old Country Life. With numerous Illustrations, Initial Letters, &c.\n     Cr. 8vo.\n\n\n_By the same Author._\n\n\n     Yorkshire Oddities. New and Cheaper Edition. (_In the Press._)\n\n\n_By the same Author._\n\n\n     Strange Survivals and Popular Superstitions. (_In Preparation._)\n\n\n_By the same Author._\n\n\n     Arminell: A Social Romance. In 3 vols. Cr. 8vo. (_On November 1._)\n\n\n_Novel by a New Writer._\n\nAlderdene. By Major NORRIS PAUL. Cr. 8vo.\n\n\n_Edited by_ REV. F. LANGBRIDGE.\n\n\n     Ballads of the Brave: Poems of Chivalry, Enterprise, Courage, and\n     Constancy--from the Earliest Times to the Present Day. Edited by F.\n     LANGBRIDGE. Cr. 8vo.\n\n\n_By_ T. RALEIGH, M.A.\n\n\n     Irish Politics: An Elementary Sketch. By T. RALEIGH, M.A., Fellow\n     of All Souls Coll., Oxford. Fcp. 8vo. This book will form the first\n     vol. of a popular series on Elementary Politics edited by Mr.\n     RALEIGH.","title":"Historic Oddities and Strange Events","tradition":"ritual-magic","translated_text":null,"word_count":86786}