R3PSH 
 
 BIB 
 
 WKm 
 
 "■■■"■:■/ : ■■'■ • 
 - . ■'■■:■ , : - . HI 
 
 ill^HIH 
 
 M M WalBH aBMMffl 
 
 
 ■1 
 
HISTORIC ODDITIES 
 
 STRANGE EVENTS 
 
B$ tbe same Hutbor- 
 
 ARMINELL: A SOCIAL ROMANCE, 3 Vols. Cr. 8vo. 
 (On Nov. i). 
 
 OLD COUNTRY LIFE.— With Numerous Illustrations, Initial 
 Letters, &c. Cr. 8vo. {In October). 
 
 YORKSHIRE ODDITIES.- New and Cheaper Edition (In 
 Preparation). 
 
 STRANGE SURVIVALS,— (In Preparation). 
 
 HISTORIC ODDITIES.— Second Series (7>z Preparation). 
 
 METHUEN & CO. 
 
Historic Oddities 
 
 STRANGE EVENTS 
 
 j 
 
 BY 
 
 S; BARING 'GOULD, M.A. 
 
 AUTHOR 01' "MEHALAH," " JOHN HERRING," ETC. 
 
 FIRST SERIES 
 
 LONDON 
 
 METHUEN & CO. 
 18 BURY STREET, W.C 
 
 1889 
 
3 ^ 
 
' 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 £-? 
 
 Preface, 
 
 The Disappearance of Bathurst, 
 The Duchess of Kingston, 
 
 General Mallet, 
 
 Schweinichen's Memoirs,... 
 The Locksmith Gamain, ... 
 Abram the Usurer, 
 
 N , Sophie Apitzsch, 
 
 Peter Nielsen, 
 
 The Wonder-working Prince Hohenlohe, 
 The Snail Telegraph, 
 The Countess Goerlitz, ... 
 
 -fc TTwax and Honey-Moon, 
 
 The Electress' Plot, 
 
 Suess Oppenheim, 
 
 Ignatius Fessler, 
 
 PACE 
 
 vii 
 
 I 
 
 26 
 
 51 
 67 
 
 83 
 103 
 121 
 136 
 164 
 
 185 
 
 199 
 
 234 
 257 
 271 
 294 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 A reader of history in its various epochs in 
 different countries, comes upon eccentric in- 
 dividuals and extraordinary events, lightly passed 
 over, may be, as not materially affecting the 
 continuity of history, as not producing any 
 seriously disturbing effect on its course. Such 
 persons, such events have always awakened 
 interest in myself, and when I have come on 
 them, it has been my pleasure to obtain such 
 details concerning them as were available, and 
 which would be out of place in a general history 
 as encumbering it with matter that is unimport- 
 ant, or of insufficient importance to occupy 
 much space. Two of the narratives contained 
 in this work have appeared already in the 
 " Cornhill Magazine," but I have considerably 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 enlarged them by the addition of fresh material; 
 some of the others came out in the " Gentleman's 
 Magazine," and one in " Belgravia." With only 
 two of them — "Peter Nielsen" and "A Wax 
 and Honey- Moon " — are the authorities some- 
 what gone beyond and the facts slightly dressed 
 to assume the shape of stories. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. 
 
 Lew Trenchard, N. Devon, 
 July, 1889. 
 
HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Zhe Disappearance of :Batburst 
 
 The mystery of the disappearance of Benjamin 
 Bathurst on November 25, 1809, is one which can 
 never with certainty be cleared up. At the time 
 public opinion in England was convinced that he had 
 been secretly murdered by order of Napoleon, and 
 the "Times" in a leader on January 23, 1810, so 
 decisively asserted this, that the " Moniteur " of 
 January 29 ensuing, in sharp and indignant terms 
 repudiated the charge, Nevertheless, not in England 
 only, but in Germany, was the impression so strong 
 that Napoleon had ordered the murder, if murder had 
 been committed, that the Emperor saw fit, in the 
 spring of the same year, solemnly to assure the wife 
 of the vanished man, on his word of honour, that he 
 knew nothing about the disappearance of her hus- 
 band. Thirty years later Varnhagen von Ense, a 
 well-known German author, reproduced the story and 
 reiterated the accusation against Napoleon, or at all 
 events against the French. Later still, the " Spec- 
 tator," in an article in 1862, gave a brief sketch of the 
 
2 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 disappearance of Bathurst, and again repeated the 
 charge against French police agents or soldiers of 
 having made away with the Englishman. At that 
 time a skeleton was said to have been discovered in 
 the citadel of Magdeburg with the hands bound, in 
 an upright position, and the writer of the article 
 sought to identify the skeleton with the lost man. 1 
 
 We shall see whether other discoveries do not. 
 upset this identification, and afford us another solu- 
 tion of the problem — What became of Benjamin 
 Bathurst ? 
 
 Benjamin Bathurst was the third son of Dr. Henry 
 Bathurst, Bishop of Norwich, Canon of Christchurch, 
 and the Prebendary of Durham, by Grace, daughter 
 of Charles Coote, Dean of Kilfenora, and sister of 
 Lord Castlecoote. His eldest brother, Herry, was 
 Archdeacon of Norwich ; his next, Sir James, K.C.B., 
 was in the army and was aide-de-camp to Lord 
 Wellington in the Peninsula. 
 
 Benjamin, the third son of the bishop, was born 
 March 14, 1784, 2 and had been secretary of the 
 Legation at Leghorn. In May, 1805, he married 
 Phillida, daughter of Sir John Call, Bart, of White- 
 ford, in Cornwall, and sister of Sir William Pratt Call, 
 the second baronet. Benjamin is a Christian name 
 that occurs repeatedly in the Bathurst family after 
 
 1 The discovery of a skeleton as described was denied after- 
 wards by the Magdeburg papers. It was a newspaper sensa- 
 tional paragraph, and unfounded. 
 
 2 Register of Baptisms, Christchurch, Oxford, 1784, March 
 14, Benjamin, s. of Henry Bathurst, Canon, and Grace his wife, 
 born, and bap. April 19. 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 3 
 
 the founder of it, Sir Benjamin, Governor of the East 
 India Company and of the Royal African Company. 
 He died in 1703. The grandfather of the subject of 
 our memoir was a Benjamin, brother of Allen, who 
 was created Baron in 171 1, and Earl in 1772. 
 
 Benjamin had three children : a son who died, 
 some years after his father's disappearance, in conse- 
 quence of a fall from a horse at a race in Rome ; 
 a daughter, who was drowned in the Tiber ; and 
 another who married the Earl of Castlestuart in 1830, 
 and after his death married Signor Pistocchi. 
 
 In 1809, early in the year, Benjamin was sent to 
 Vienna by his kinsman, Earl Bathurst, who was in 
 the ministry of Lord Castlereagh, and, in October, 
 Secretary of State for the Foreign Department. He 
 was sent on a secret embassy from the English 
 Government to the Court of the Emperor Francis. 
 The time was one of great and critical importance to 
 Austria. Since the Peace of Pressburg she had been 
 quiet ; the Cabinet of Vienna had adhered with 
 cautious prudence to a system of neutrality, but she 
 only waited her time, and in 1808 the government 
 issued a decree by which a militia, raised by a con- 
 scription, under the name of the " Landwehr," was 
 instituted, and this speedily reached the number of 
 300,000 men. Napoleon, who was harassed by the 
 insurrection in the Peninsula, demanded angrily an 
 explanation, which was evaded. To overawe Austria, 
 he met the Emperor Alexander of Russia at Erfurth, 
 and the latter when sounded by Austria refused to 
 have any part in the confederation against Napoleon. 
 England, in the meantime, was urging Austria to 
 
4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 cast down the gauntlet. In pledge of amity, the 
 port of Trieste was thrown open to the English and 
 Spanish flags. In December, a declaration of the 
 King of England openly alluded to the hostile pre- 
 parations of Austria, but the Cabinet at Vienna were 
 as yet undecided as to the course they would finally 
 adopt. The extreme peril which the monarchy had 
 undergone already in the wars with Napoleon made 
 them hesitate. England was about to send fifty 
 thousand men to the Peninsula, and desired the diver- 
 sion of a war in the heart of Germany. Prussia 
 resolved to remain neutral. Napoleon rapidly re- 
 turned from Spain, and orders were despatched to 
 Davoust to concentrate his immense corps at Bam- 
 berg ; Massena was to repair to Strasburg, and press 
 on to Ulm ; Oudenot to move on Augsburg, and 
 Bernadotte, at the head of the Saxons, was to menace 
 Bohemia. It was at this juncture that Benjamin 
 Bathurst hurried as Ambassador Extraordinary to 
 Vienna, to assure the Cabinet there of the intentions 
 of England to send a powerful contingent into Spain, 
 and to do all in his power to urge Austria to declare 
 war. Encouraged by England, the Cabinet of Vienna 
 took the initiative, and on April 8 the Austrian troops 
 crossed the frontier at once on the Inn, in Bohemia, 
 in Tyrol, and in Italy. 
 
 The irritation and exasperation of Napoleon were 
 great ; and Bathurst, who remained with the Court, 
 laboured under the impression that the Emperor of 
 the French bore him especial enmity, on account of 
 his exertions to provoke the Austrian Ministry to 
 declaration of war. Whether this opinion of his were 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 5 
 
 well founded, or whether he had been warned that 
 Napoleon would take the opportunity, if given him, 
 of revenging himself, we do not know; but what is 
 certain is, that Bathurst was prepossessed with the con- 
 viction that Napoleon regarded him with implacable 
 hostility and would leave no stone unturned to com- 
 pass his destruction. 
 
 On July 6 came the battle of Wagram, then the 
 humiliating armistice of Znaim, which was agreed to 
 by the Emperor Francis at Komorn in spite of the 
 urgency of Metternich and Lord Walpole, who sought 
 to persuade him to reject' the proposals. This armi- 
 stice was the preliminary to a peace which was con- 
 cluded at Schonbrun in October. With this, Bathurst's 
 office at Vienna came to an end, and he set out on 
 his way home. Now it was that he repeatedly spoke 
 of the danger that menaced him, and of his fears lest 
 Napoleon should arrest him on his journey to England. 
 He hesitated for some time which road to take, and 
 concluding that if he went by Trieste and Malta he 
 might run the worst risks, he resolved to make his 
 way to London by Berlin and the north of Germany. 
 He took with him his private secretary and a valet ; 
 and, to evade observation, assumed the name of 
 Koch, and pretended that he was a travelling mer- 
 chant. His secretary was instructed to act as courier, 
 and he passed under the name of Fisher. Benjamin 
 Bathurst carried pistols about his person, and there 
 were firearms in the back of the carriage. 
 
 On November 25, 1809, about midday, he arrived 
 at Perleberg, with post-horses, on the route from 
 Berlin to Hamburg, halted at the post-house for 
 
6 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 refreshments, and ordered fresh horses to be harnessed 
 to the carnage for the journey to Lenzen, which was 
 the next station. 
 
 Bathurst had come along the highway from Berlin 
 to Schwerin, in Brandenburg, as far as the little town 
 of Perleberg, which lies on the Stepnitz, that flows 
 after a few miles into the Elbe at Wittenberge. He 
 might have gone on to Ludwigslust, and thence to 
 Hamburg, but this was a considerable detour, and he 
 was anxious to be home. He had now before him a 
 road that led along the Elbe close to the frontier of 
 Saxony. The Elbe was about four miles distant. 
 At Magdeburg were French troops. If he were in 
 danger anywhere, it would be during the next few 
 hours — that is, till he reached Domitz. About a 
 hundred paces from the post-house was an inn, the 
 White Swan, the host of which was named Leger. 
 By the side of the inn was the Parchimer gate of the 
 town, furnished with a tower, and the road to Ham- 
 burg led through this gate, outside of which was a 
 sort of suburb consisting of poor cottagers' and arti- 
 sans' houses. 
 
 Benjamin Bathurst went to the Swan and ordered 
 an early dinner ; the horses were not to be put in till 
 he had dined. He wore a pair of grey trousers, a 
 grey frogged short coat, and over it a handsome sable 
 greatcoat lined with violet velvet. On his head was 
 a fur cap to match. In his scarf was a diamond pin 
 of some value. 
 
 As soon as he had finished his meal, Bathurst in- 
 quired who was in command of the soldiers quartered 
 in the town, and where he lodged. He was told that 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 7 
 
 a squadron of the Brandenburg cuirassiers was there 
 under Captain Klitzing, who was residing in a house 
 behind the Town Hall. Mr. Bathurst then crossed 
 the market place and called on the officer, who was 
 at the time indisposed with a swollen neck. To Cap- 
 tain Klitzing he said that he was a traveller on his 
 way to Hamburg, that he had strong and well- 
 grounded suspicions that his person was endangered, 
 and he requested that he might be given a guard in 
 the inn, where he was staying. A lady who was pre- 
 sent noticed that he seemed profoundly agitated, that 
 he trembled as though ague-stricken, and was unable 
 to raise a cup of tea that was offered him to his lips 
 without spilling it. 
 
 The captain laughed at his fears, but consented to 
 let him have a couple of soldiers, and gave the requisite 
 orders for their despatch ; then Mr. Bathurst rose, re- 
 sumed his sable overcoat, and, to account for his ner- 
 vous difficulty in getting into his furs again, explained 
 that he was much shaken by something that had 
 alarmed him. 
 
 Not long after the arrival of Mr. Bathurst at the 
 Swan, two Jewish merchants arrived from Lenzen 
 with post-horses, and left before nightfall. 
 
 On Mr. Bathurst's return to the inn, he counter- 
 manded the horses ; he said he would not start till 
 night. He considered that it would be safer for him 
 to spin along the dangerous portion of the route by 
 night when Napoleon's spies would be less likely to 
 be on the alert. He remained in the inn writing and 
 burning papers. At seven o'clock he dismissed the 
 soldiers on guard, and ordered the horses to be ready 
 
8 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 by nine. He stood outside the inn watching his port- 
 manteau, which had been taken within, being replaced 
 on the carriage, stepped round to the heads of the 
 horses — and was never seen again. 
 
 It must be remembered that this was at the end of 
 November. Darkness had closed in before 5 P.M., as 
 the sun set at four. An oil lantern hung across the 
 street, emitting a feeble light ; the ostler had a horn 
 lantern, wherewith he and the postillion adjusted the 
 harness of the horses. The landlord was in the door- 
 way talking to the secretary, who, as courier, was 
 paying the account. No one particularly observed 
 the movements of Mr. Bathurst at the moment. He 
 had gone to the horses' heads, where the ostler's 
 lantern had fallen on him. The horses were in, the- 
 postillion ready, the valet stood by the carriage door, 
 the landlord had his cap in hand ready to wish 
 the gentleman a "lucky journey;" the secretary was 
 impatient, as the wind was cold. They waited ; they 
 sent up to the room which Mr. Bathurst had engaged ; 
 they called. All in vain. Suddenly, inexplicably, 
 without a word, a cry, an alarm of any sort, he was 
 gone — spirited away, and what really became of him 
 will never be known with certainty. 
 
 Whilst the whole house was in amazement and 
 perplexity the Jewish merchants ordered their carriage 
 to be got ready, and departed. 
 
 Some little time elapsed before it was realised that 
 the case was serious. Then it occurred to the secre- 
 tary that Mr. Bathurst might have gone again to the 
 captain in command to solicit guards to attend his 
 carriage. He at once sent to the captain, but Mr. 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 9 
 
 Bathurst was not with him. The moment, however, that 
 Klitzing heard that the traveller had disappeared, he 
 remembered the alarm expressed by the gentleman, 
 and acted with great promptitude. He sent soldiers 
 to seize the carriage and all the effects of the missing 
 man. He went, in spite of his swollen neck, immedi- 
 ately to the Swan, ordered a chaise, and required the 
 secretary to enter it ; he placed a cuirassier and the 
 valet on the box, and, stepping into the carriage, 
 ordered it to be driven to the Golden Crown, an inn 
 at the further end of the town, where he installed the 
 companions of Bathurst, and placed a soldier in guard 
 over them. A guard was also placed over the Swan, 
 and next morning every possible search was made 
 for the lost man. The river was dragged, outhouses, 
 woods, marshes, ditches were examined, but not a 
 trace of him could be found. That day was Sunday. 
 Klitzing remained at Perleberg only till noon, to wait 
 some discovery, and then, without delay, hurried 
 to Kyritz, where was his commandant, Colonel Bis- 
 mark, to lay the case before him, and solicit leave to 
 hasten direct to Berlin, there to receive further in- 
 structions what was to be done. 
 
 He was back on Monday with full authority to in- 
 vestigate the matter. 
 
 Before he left he had gone over the effects of Mr. 
 Bathurst, and had learned that the fur coat belong- 
 ing to him was missing ; he communicated this fact 
 to the civil magistrate of the district, and whilst he 
 was away search was instituted for this. It was the 
 sable coat lined with violet velvet already mentioned, 
 and this, along with another belonging to the secre- 
 
io HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 tary, Fisher was under the impression had been left 
 in the post-house. 
 
 The amazing part of the matter is that the city 
 authorities — and, indeed, on his return, Captain Klit- 
 z ing — for awhile confined themselves to a searchfor the 
 fur coat, and valuable time was lost by this means. 
 Moreover, thecityauthorities, the police,and themilitary 
 were all independent, and all jealous of each other. 
 The militarycommander,Klitzing,and the burgomaster 
 were in open quarrel, and sent up to headquarters 
 charges against each other for interference in the 
 matter beyond their rights. The head of the police 
 was inert, a man afterwards dismissed for allowing 
 defalcation in the monies entrusted to him. There 
 was no system in the investigation, and the proper 
 clues were not followed. 
 
 On December 16th, two poor women went out of 
 Perleberg to a little fir wood in the direction of Quit- 
 zow, to pick up broken sticks for fuel. There theyfound, 
 a few paces from a path leading through the wood, 
 spread out on the grass, a pair of trousers turned inside 
 out. On turning them back they observed that they 
 were stained on the outside, as if the man who had 
 worn them had lain on the earth. In the pocket was a 
 paper with writing on it ; this, as well as the trousers, 
 was sodden with water. Two bullet holes were in 
 the trousers, but no traces of blood about them, 
 which could hardly have been the case had the bullets 
 struck a man wearing the trousers. The women took 
 what they had found to the burgomaster. The 
 trousers were certainly those of the missing man. 
 The paper in the pocket was a half-finished letter 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. n 
 
 from Mr. Bathurst to his wife, scratched in pencil, 
 stating that he was afraid he would never reach 
 England, and that his ruin would be the work of 
 Count d'Entraigues, and he requested her not to 
 marry again in the event of his not returning. 
 
 The English Government offered £1,000 reward, 
 and his family another £1,000 ; Prince Frederick of 
 Prussia, who took a lively interest in the matter, offered 
 in addition 100 Friedrichs d'or for the discovery of 
 the body, or for information which might lead to the 
 solution of the mystery, but no information to be de- 
 pended upon ever transpired. Various rumours cir- 
 culated ; and Mrs. Thistlethwaite, the sister of Benja- 
 min Bathurst, in her Memoirs of Dr. Henry Bathurst, 
 Bishop of Norwich, published by Bentley in 1853, 
 gives them. He was said to have been lost at sea. 
 Another report was that he was murdered by his 
 valet, who took an open boat on the Elbe, and escaped. 
 Another report again was that he had been lost in a 
 vessel which was crossing to Sweden and which foun- 
 dered about this time. These reports are all totally 
 void of truth. Mrs. Thistlethwaite declares that 
 Count d'Entraigues, who was afterwards so cruelly 
 murdered along with his wife by their Italian servant, 
 was heard to say that he could prove that Mr. Bathurst 
 was murdered in the fortress of Magdeburg. In a 
 letter to his wife, dated October 14, 1809, Benjamin 
 Bathurst said that he trusted to reach home by way 
 of Colberg and Sweden. D'Entraigues had been a 
 French spy in London ; and Mrs. Thistlethwaite says 
 that he himself told Mrs. Bathurst that her husband 
 had been carried off by douaniers-montcs from Perle- 
 
12 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 berg to Magdeburg, and murdered there. This it is 
 hard to believe. 
 
 Thomas Richard Underwood, in a letter from Paris, 
 November 24, 1816, says he was a prisoner of war in 
 Paris in 1809, and that both the English and French 
 there believed that the crime of his abduction and 
 murder had been committed by the French Govern- 
 ment. 
 
 The "European Magazine" for January, 18 10, says 
 that he was apparently carried off by a party of 
 French troops stationed at Lenzen, but this was not 
 the case. No French troops were on that side of the 
 Elbe. It further says, " The French Executive, with 
 a view to ascertain by his papers the nature of the 
 relations subsisting between this country and the 
 Austrian Government, has added to the catalogue of 
 its crimes by the seizure, or probably the murder, of 
 this gentleman." 
 
 If there had been French troops seen we should have 
 known of it ; but none were. Every effort was made 
 by the civil and military authorities to trace Bathurst. 
 Bloodhounds were employed to track the lost man, 
 in vain. Every well was explored, the bed of 
 the Stepnitz thoroughly searched. Every suspicious 
 house in Perleberg was examined from attic to cellar, 
 the gardens were turned up, the swamps sounded, 
 but every effort to trace and discover him was in 
 vain. 
 
 On January 23, 18 10, in a Hamburg paper, ap- 
 peared a paragraph, which for the first time informed 
 the people of Perleberg who the merchant Koch 
 really was who had so mysteriously vanished. The 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 13 
 
 paragraph was in the form of a letter, dated from 
 London, January 6, 18 10 — that is, six weeks after the 
 disappearance. It ran thus : " Sir Bathurst, Am- 
 bassador Extraordinary of England to the Court of 
 Austria, concerning whom a German newspaper, 
 under date of December 10, stated that he had com- 
 mitted suicide in a fit of insanity, is well in mind and 
 body. His friends have received a letter from him 
 dated December 13, which, therefore, must have been 
 written after the date of his supposed death." 
 
 Who inserted this, and for what purpose ? It was 
 absolutely untrue. Was it designed to cause the 
 authorities to relax their efforts to probe the mystery, 
 and perhaps to abandon them altogether ? 
 
 The Jewish merchants were examined, but were at 
 once discharged ; they were persons well-to-do, and 
 generally respected. 
 
 Was it possible that Mr. Bathurst had committed 
 suicide ? This was the view taken of his disappear- 
 ance in France, where, in the " Moniteur " of December 
 12, 1809, a letter from the correspondent in Berlin 
 stated : " Sir Bathurst on his way fr&m Berlin showed 
 signs of insanity, and destroyed himself in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Perleberg." On January 23, 18 10, as 
 already said, the " Times " took the matter up, and 
 not obscurely charged the Emperor Napoleon with 
 having made away with Mr. Bathurst, who was 
 peculiarly obnoxious to him. 
 
 In the mean time, the fur coat had been found, 
 hidden in the cellar of a family named Schmidt, be- 
 hind some firewood. Frau Schmidt declared that it 
 had been left at the post house, where she had found 
 
i 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 it ; and had conveyed it away, and given it to her son 
 Augustus, a fellow of notoriously bad character. 
 Now, it is remarkable that one witness declared that 
 she had seen the stranger who had disappeared go 
 out of the square down the narrow lane in which the 
 Schmidts lived, and where eventually the fur coat was 
 found. When questioned, Augustus Schmidt said 
 that " his mother had told him the stranger had two 
 pistols, and had sent her to buy him some powder. 
 He supposed therefore that the gentleman had shot 
 himself." Unfortunately the conflict of authorities 
 acted prejudicially at this point, and the questions 
 how the Schmidts came to know anything about 
 the pistols, whether Frau Schmidt really was sent for 
 powder, and whether Bathurst was really seen enter- 
 ing the alley in which they lived, and at what hour, 
 were never properly entered into. Whatever infor- 
 mation Klitzing obtained, was forwarded to Berlin, 
 and there his reports remain in the archives. They 
 have not been examined. 
 
 Fresh quarrels broke out between Klitzing and the 
 Burgomaster, and Klitzing instead of pursuing the 
 main investigations, set to work to investigate the 
 proceedings of the Burgomaster. So more time was 
 lost. 
 
 On Thursday, November 30th, that is to say, five 
 days after the disappearance of Bathurst, Captain 
 Klitzing ordered the town magistrates; 1. To have 
 all ditches and canals round the place examined ; 2. 
 To have the neighbourhood of the town explored by 
 foresters with hounds ; 3. To let off the river Stepnitz 
 and examine the bed. Then he added, " as I have 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 15 
 
 . ascertained that Augustus Schmidt, who is now under 
 arrest for the theft of the fur coat, was not at home at 
 the time that the stranger disappeared, I require that 
 this fact be taken into consideration, and investigated " 
 — and this, as far as we can ascertain, was not done ; 
 it was just one of those valuable clues which were left 
 untraced. 
 
 The whole neighbourhood was searched, ditches,, 
 ponds, the river bed, drains, every cellar, and garden, 
 and nothing found. The search went on to December 
 6, and proved wholly resultless. It was not till 
 December 16 that the trousers were found. It is. 
 almost certain that they were laid in the Quitzow 
 wood after the search had been given over, on 
 December 6th. 
 
 As nothing could be proved against the Schmidt 
 family, except that they had taken the fur coat, Frau 
 Schmidt and her son were sentenced to eight weeks'' 
 imprisonment. 
 
 The matter of the pistols was not properly cleared 
 up. That, again, was a point, and an important point 
 that remained uninvestigated. 
 
 The military authorities who examined the goods 
 of Mr. Bathurst declared that nothing was missing 
 except the fur cloak, which was afterwards recovered, 
 and we suppose these pistols were included. If not, 
 one may be sure that some notice would have been 
 taken of the fact that he had gone off with his pistols, 
 and had not returned. This would have lent colour 
 to the opinion that he destroyed himself. Besides no 
 shot was heard. A little way outside the gateway of 
 the town beyond the Swan inn is a bridge over the 
 
1 6 HISTORIC ODDITIES, 
 
 small and sluggish stream of the Stepnitz. It was 
 possible he might have shot himself there, and fallen 
 into the water ; but this theory will not bear looking 
 closely into. A shot fired there would certainly have 
 been heard at night in the cottages beside the road ; 
 the river was searched shortly after without a trace of 
 him having been found, and his trousers with bullet 
 holes made in them after they had been taken off him 
 had been discovered in another direction. 
 
 The " Moniteur " of January 29 said : " Among the 
 civilised races, England is the only one that sets an 
 example of having bandits 1 in pay, and inciting to 
 crime. From information we have received from 
 Berlin, we believe that Mr. Bathurst had gone off his 
 head. It is the manner of the British Cabinet to 
 commit diplomatic commissions to persons whom the 
 whole nation knows are half fools. It is only the 
 English diplomatic service which contains crazy 
 people." 
 
 This violent language was at the time attributed to 
 Napoleon's dictation, stung with the charge made by 
 the " Times," a charge ranking him with " vulgar 
 murderers," and which attributed to him two other 
 and somewhat similar cases, that of Wagstaff, and 
 that of Sir George Rumbold. It is very certain that 
 the " Moniteur " would not have ventured on such 
 insulting language without his permission. 
 
 In April Mrs. Bathurst, along with some relatives, 
 
 1 When, in 181 5, Napoleon was at St. Helena, on his first 
 introduction to Sir Hudson Lowe, he addressed the governor 
 with the insulting words, " Monsieur, vous avez command^ des 
 brigands." He alluded to the Corsican rangers in the British 
 service, which Lowe had commanded. 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 17 
 
 arrived in Perleberg. The poor lady was in great 
 distress and anxiety to have the intolerable suspense 
 alleviated by a discovery of some sort, and the most 
 liberal offers were made and published to induce a 
 disclosure of the secret. At this time a woman 
 named Hacker, the wife of a peasant who lived in 
 the shoe-market, was lying in the town gaol — the 
 tower already mentioned, adjoining the White Swan. 
 She was imprisoned for various fraudulent acts. She 
 now offered to make a confession, and this was her 
 statement : 
 
 " A few weeks before Christmas I was on my way 
 to Perleberg from a place in Holstein, where my 
 husband had found work. In the little town of 
 Seeberg, twelve miles from Hamburg, I met the 
 shoemaker's assistant Goldberger, of Perleberg, whom 
 I knew from having danced with him. He was well- 
 dressed, and had from his fob hanging a hair-chain 
 with gold seals. His knitted silk purse was stuffed 
 with louis d'ors. When I asked him how he came 
 by so much money, he said, ' Oh, I got 500 dollars 
 and the watch as hush-money when the Englishman 
 was murdered.' He told me no more particulars, 
 except that one of the seals was engraved with a 
 name, and he had had that altered in Hamburg." 
 
 No credit was given to this story, and no inquiry 
 was instituted into the whereabouts of Goldberger. 
 It was suspected that the woman had concocted it in 
 the hopes of getting Mrs. Bathurst to interest herself 
 in obtaining her release, and of getting some of the 
 money offered to informers. 
 
 Mrs. Bathurst did not return immediately to 
 
18 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 England ; she appealed to Napoleon to grant her 
 information, and he assured her through Cambacieres, 
 and on his word of honour, that he knew nothing of 
 the matter beyond what he had seen in the papers. 
 
 So the matter rested, an unsolved mystery. 
 
 In Prussia, among the great bulk of the educated, 
 in the higher and official classes, the prevailing con- 
 viction was that Napoleon had caused the disappear- 
 ance of Bathurst, not out of personal feeling, but in 
 political interests, for the purpose of getting hold of 
 the dispatches which he was believed to be conveying 
 to England from the Austrian Government. The 
 murder was held to be an accident, or an unavoidable 
 consequence. And in Perleberg itself this was the 
 view taken of the matter as soon as it was known who 
 the stranger was. But then, another opinion pre- 
 vailed there, that Klitzing had secretly conveyed him 
 over the frontier, so as to save him from the spies, 
 and the pursuit which, as he and Bathurst knew, 
 endangered the safety of the returning envoy. 
 
 In Perleberg two opinions were formed, by such as 
 conceived that he had been murdered, as to the 
 manner in which he had been made away with. 
 
 Not far from the post-house was at the time a low 
 tavern kept by Hacker, who has been mentioned 
 above ; the man combined shoemaking with the sale 
 of brandy. Augustus Schmidt spent a good deal of 
 his time in this house. Now shortly after this affair, 
 Hacker left Perleberg, and set up at Altona, where he 
 showed himself possessed of a great deal of money. 
 He was also said to have disposed of a gold repeater 
 watch to a jeweller in Hamburg. This was never 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 19 
 
 gone into ; and how far it was true, or idle rumour, 
 cannot be said. One view was that Bathurst had been 
 robbed and murdered by Hacker and Schmidt. 
 
 The other opinion was this. Opposite the post- 
 house was a house occupied at the time by a fellow 
 who was a paid French spy ; a man who was tried 
 for holding secret communication with the enemy of 
 his Fatherland. He was a petty lawyer, who stirred 
 up quarrels among the peasants, and lived by the 
 result. He was a man of the worst possible char- 
 acter, capable of anything. The opinion of one 
 section of the people of Perleberg was, that Bathurst, 
 before entering the carriage, had gone across the 
 square, and had entered into conversation with this 
 man, who had persuaded him to enter his door, where 
 he had strangled him, and buried him in his cellar. 
 The widow of this man on her death-bed appeared 
 anxious to confess something, but died before she 
 could speak. 
 
 In 1852 a discovery was made at Perleberg which 
 may or may not give the requisite solution. 
 
 We may state before mentioning this that Captain 
 Klitzing never believed that Bathurst had been 
 spirited away by French agents. He maintained 
 that he had been murdered for his money. 
 
 On April 15, 1852, a house on the Hamburg road 
 that belonged to the mason Kiesewetter was being 
 pulled down, when a human skeleton was discovered 
 under the stone threshold of the stable. The skeleton 
 lay stretched out, face upwards, on the black peat 
 earth, covered with mortar and stone chips, the head 
 embedded in walling-stones and mortar. In the back 
 
20 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 of the skull was a fracture, as if a blow of a heavy 
 instrument had fallen on it. All the upper teeth were 
 perfect, but one of the molars in the lower jaw was 
 absent, and there were indications of its having been 
 removed by a dentist. The house where these human 
 remains were found had been purchased in 1834 by 
 the mason Kiesewetter from Christian Mertens, who 
 had inherited it from his father, which latter had 
 bought it in 1803 of a shoemaker. Mertens, the 
 father, had been a serving man in the White Szvan at 
 the time of the disappearance of Mr. Bathnrst. 
 
 Inquiry was made into what was known of old 
 Mertens. Everyone spoke highly of him as a saving, 
 steady man, God-fearing ; who had scraped together 
 during his service in the Swan sufficient money to 
 dower his two daughters with respectively £i$0 and 
 £120. After a long illness he had died, generally re- 
 spected. 
 
 Information of the discovery was forwarded to the 
 Bathurst family, and on August 23,Mrs.Thistlethwaite,. 
 sister of Benjamin, came to Perleberg, bringing with 
 her a portrait of her brother, but she was quite unable 
 to say that the skull that was shown her belonged to 
 the missing man, whom she had not seen for forty- 
 three years. And — no wonder ! When Goethe was- 
 shown the skull of his intimate friend Schiller he 
 could hardly trace any likeness to the head he re- 
 membered so well. Mrs. Thistlethwaite left, believing 
 that the discovery had no connection with the mystery 
 of her brother's disappearance, so ineradicably fixed 
 in the convictions of the family was the belief that he 
 had been carried away by French agents. 
 
THE DISA PRE A RANCE OF BA THURST. 2 1 
 
 However, let us consider this discovery a little 
 closer, and perhaps we shall be led to another con- 
 clusion. 
 
 In the first place, the skeleton was that of a man 
 who had been murdered by a blow on the back of his 
 head, which had fractured the skull. It had been 
 stripped before being buried, for not a trace of cloth- 
 ing could be found. 
 
 Secondly, the house of the Mertens family lay on 
 the Hamburg road, on the way to Lenzen, outside 
 the Parchimer Gate, only three hundred paces from 
 the White Swan. In fact, it was separated from the 
 White Swan only by the old town-gate and prison 
 tower, and a small patch of garden ground. 
 
 At the time of the disappearance of Mr. Bathurst 
 it was inhabited by Christian Mertens, who was ser- 
 vant at the White Swan. No examination was made 
 at the time of the loss of Bathurst into the where- 
 abouts of Mertens, nor was his cottage searched. It 
 was assumed that he was at the inn waiting for his 
 "vale," like the ostler and the Kellner. It is quite 
 possible that he may have been standing near the 
 horses' heads, and that he may have gone on with 
 Mr. Bathurst a few steps to show him the direction 
 he was to go ; or, with the pretence that he had im- 
 portant information to give him, he may have allured 
 him into his cottage, and there murdered him, or, again, 
 he may have drawn him on to where by pre-arrange- 
 ment Goldberger was lying in wait with a hammer or 
 hatchet to strike him down from behind. Consider- 
 ing how uneasy Mr. Bathurst was about the road, and 
 how preoccupied with the idea that French spies and 
 
22 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 secret agents were on the look-out for him, he might 
 easily have been induced by a servant of the inn 
 where he was staying to go a few steps through the 
 gate, beyond earshot of the post-boy and landlord 
 and ostler, to hear something which the boots pre- 
 tended was of importance to him. Goldberger or 
 another may have lain in wait in the blackness of the 
 shadow of the gateway but a short distance from the 
 lights about the carriage, and by one stroke have 
 silenced him. It is possible that Augustus Schmidt 
 may have been mixed up in the matter, and that the 
 sable coat was taken off Mr. Bathurst when dead. 
 
 Again, Mertens was able on the marriage of his 
 two daughters to give one 150/. and the other 120/. 
 This would mean that Mertens had saved as boots of 
 the Swan at the least 300/., for he would not give 
 every penny to his children. Surely this was a con- 
 siderable sum for a boots in a little inn to amass from 
 his wage and from " vales." 
 
 Mrs. Thistlethwaite asserts in her Memoirs of Bishop 
 Bathurst that shortly after the disappearance of her 
 brother the ostler — can she mean Mertens ? — also 
 disappeared, ran awa)'. But we do not know of any 
 corroborating evidence. 
 
 Lastly, the discovery of the trousers in the wood 
 near Ouitzow points to the traveller having been 
 murdered in Perleberg ; the murderers, whoever they 
 were, finding that an investigation of houses, barns, 
 gardens and stables was being made, took the gar- 
 ments of the unfortunate man, discharged a couple of 
 shots through them to make believe he had been 
 fired at by several persons lying in wait for him, and 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BA THURST. 23 
 
 then exposed them in a place away from the road 
 along which Mr. Bathurst was going. The man who 
 carried these garments was afraid of being observed, 
 and he probably did not go through the town with 
 them, but made a circuit to the wood, and for the 
 same reason did not take them very far. The road 
 to Lenzen ran S.W. and that to Quitzow N.W. He 
 placed the trousers near the latter, but did not ven- 
 ture to cross the highway. He could get to the wood 
 over the fields unperceived. 
 
 Supposing that this is the solution of the mystery, 
 one thing remains to be accounted for — the paragraph 
 in the Hamburg paper dated from London, announc- 
 ing that Mr. Bathurst was alive and had been heard 
 of since the disappearance. 
 
 This, certainly, seems to have been inserted with a 
 design to divert or allay suspicion, and it was gener- 
 ally held to have been sent from London by a French 
 agent, on instruction from Paris. But it is possible 
 that the London correspondent may have heard a 
 coffee-house rumour that Bathurst was still alive, and 
 at once reported it to the paper. Its falsehood was 
 palpable, and would be demonstrated at once by the 
 family of the lost man to the authorities at Perleberg. 
 It could not answer the purpose of arresting inquiry 
 and staying investigation. 
 
 It remains only to inquire whether it was probable 
 that Napoleon had any hand in the matter. 
 
 What could induce him to lay hands on an envoy? 
 He could not expect to find on the person of Mr. 
 Bathurst any important dispatches, for the war was 
 over, peace with Austria was concluded. He was 
 
24 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 doubtless angry at Austria having declared war, and 
 angry at England having instigated her to do so, but 
 Mr. Bathurst was very small game indeed on which 
 to wreak his anger ; moreover, the peace that had 
 been concluded with Austria gave great advantages 
 to France. He can have had no personal dislike to 
 Bathurst, for he never saw him. When Napoleon 
 entered Vienna, Bathurst was with the Emperor 
 Francis in Hungary, at Komorn. 
 
 And yet, he may have suspected that Austria was 
 insincere, and was anxious to renew the conflict, if 
 she could obtain assurance of assistance from Eng- 
 land. He may have thought that by securing the 
 papers carried to England by Bathurst, he would get 
 at the real intentions of Austria, and so might be 
 prepared for consequences. We cannot say. The 
 discovery of the body in Mertens' house, under the 
 threshold — supposing it to be that of Bathurst, does 
 not by any means prove that the murder was a mere 
 murder for the purpose of robbery. 
 
 If Napoleon had given instructions for the capture 
 of Bathurst, and the taking from him of his papers, it 
 does not follow that he ordered his murder, on the 
 contrary, he would have given instructions that he 
 should be robbed — as if by highwaymen — and let go 
 with his life. The murder was against his wishes, if 
 he did give orders for him to be robbed. 
 
 The Bathurst family never doubted that Benjamin 
 had been murdered by the agents of Napoleon. It is 
 certain that he was well aware that his safety was 
 menaced, and menaced at Perleberg. That was why 
 he at once on reaching the place asked for the pro- 
 
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 25 
 
 tection of a guard. He had received warning from 
 some one, and such warning shows that an attempt 
 to rob him of his papers was in contemplation. 
 
 That caution to be on his guard must have been 
 given him, before he left Vienna. He probably re- 
 ceived another before he reached Perleberg, for he 
 appeared before the Commandant in a state of great 
 alarm and agitation. That this was mere spiritual 
 presage of evil is hardly credible. We cannot doubt 
 — and his letter to his wife leads to this conviction — 
 that he had been warned that spies in the pay of the 
 French Government were on the look-out for him. 
 Who the agents were that were employed to get hold 
 of his papers, supposing that the French Government 
 did attempt to waylay him, can never be determined, 
 whether Mertens or Augustus Schmidt. 
 
 In 18 1 5 Earl Bathurst was Secretary of State for 
 War and the Colonial Department. May we not 
 suspect that there was some mingling of personal 
 exultation along with political satisfaction, in being 
 able to send to St. Helena the man who had not 
 only been the scourge of Europe, and the terror of 
 kings, but who, as he supposed — quite erroneously 
 we believe — had inflicted on his own family an agony 
 of suspense and doubt that was never to be wholly 
 removed ? 
 
Zhe Smcbess of IRincjstoru 
 
 Elizabeth Chudleigh, Countess of Bristol and 
 Duchess of Kingston, who was tried for bigamy in 
 Westminster Hall by the Peers in 1776, was, it can 
 hardly be doubted, the original from whom Thackeray 
 drew his detailed portrait of Beatrix Esmond, both as 
 young Trix and as the old Baroness Bernstein ; nor 
 can one doubt that what he knew of his prototype 
 was taken from that scandalous little book, " An 
 Authentic Detail of Particulars relative to the late 
 Duchess of Kingston," published by G. Kearsley in 
 1788. Thackeray not only reproduced some of the 
 incidents of her life, but more especially caught the 
 features of her character. 
 
 Poor Trix ! Who does not remember her coming 
 down the great staircase at Walcote, candle in hand, 
 in her red stockings and with a new cherryribbon round 
 her neck, her eyes like blue stars, her brown hair 
 curling about her head, and not feel a lingering liking 
 for the little coquette, trying to catch my Lord 
 Mohun, and the Duke of Hamilton, and many 
 another, and missing all ? and for the naughty old 
 baroness, with her scandalous stories, her tainted past, 
 her love of cards, her complete unscrupulousness, and 
 yet with one soft corner in the withered heart for the 
 young Virginians ? 
 
 The famous, or infamous, Duchess has had hard 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 27 
 
 measure dealt out to her, which she in part deserved ; 
 but some of the stories told of her are certainly not 
 true, and one circumstance in her life, if true, goes far 
 to palliate her naughtiness. Unfortunately, almost 
 all we know of her is taken from unfriendly sources. 
 The only really impartial source of information is the 
 " Trial," published by order of the Peers, but that 
 covers only one portion of her life, and one set of 
 incidents. 
 
 Elizabeth Chudleigh was the daughter of Colonel 
 Thomas Chudleigh, of Chelsea, and his wife Henri- 
 etta, who was his first cousin, the fourth daughter 
 of Hugh Chudleigh, of Chalmington, in Dorset. 
 Thomas was the only brother of Sir George Chud- 
 leigh, fourth baronet of Asheton, in Devon. As Sir 
 George left only daughters, Thomas, the brother of 
 Elizabeth, whose baptism in 17 18 is recorded in the 
 Chelsea registers, succeeded as fifth baronet in 1738. 
 Unfortunately the Chelsea registers do not give the 
 baptism of Elizabeth, and we are not able to state her 
 precise age, about which there is some difference. 
 Her father had a post in Chelsea College, but 
 apparently she was not born there. There can, how- 
 ever, be little doubt that she saw the light for the first 
 time in 1726, and not in 1720, as is generally asserted. 
 
 Her family was one of great antiquity in the county 
 of Devon, and was connected by marriage with the 
 first families of the west of England. The old seat, 
 Asheton, lies in a pleasant coombe under the ridge of 
 Haldon ; some remains of the old mansion, and 
 venerable trees of the park, linger on ; and in the 
 picturesque parish church, perched on a rock in the 
 
28 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 valley, are many family monuments and heraldic 
 blazonings of the Chudleigh lions, gules on an 
 ermine field. Elizabeth lost her father very early, 
 and the widow was left on a poor pension to support 
 and advance the prospects of her two children. 
 Though narrowed in fortune, Mrs. Chudleigh had 
 good connections, and she availed herself of these to 
 push her way in the world. At the age of sixteen — 
 that is, in 1743 — Elizabeth was given the appoint- 
 ment of maid of honour to the Princess of Wales, 
 through the favour of Mr. Pulteney, afterwards Earl 
 of Bath, who had met her one day while out shooting. 
 The old beau was taken with the vivacity, intelligence 
 and beauty of the girl. She was then not only re- 
 markable for her beauty, delicacy of complexion, and 
 sparkling eyes, but also for the brilliancy of her wit 
 and the liveliness of her humour. Even her rival, the 
 Marquise de la Touchc, of whom more hereafter, 
 bears testimony to her charms. Pulteney, himself a 
 witty, pungent, and convivial man, was delighted with 
 the cleverness of the lovely girl, and amused himself 
 with drawing it out. In after years, when she was 
 asked the secret of her sparkling repartee, she re- 
 plied, "I always aim to be short, clear, and surprising." 
 The Princess of Wales, Augusta, daughter of 
 Frederick of Saxe-Gotha, who with the Prince, 
 Frederick Lewis, had their court at Leicester House, 
 became greatly attached to her young maid of honour. 
 The beautiful Miss Chudleigh was speedily sur- * 
 rounded by admirers, among whom was James, sixth 
 Duke of Hamilton, born in 1724, and therefore two 
 years her senior. 
 
THE DUCHESS OB KINGSTOY. 29 
 
 According to the "Authentic Detail," the Duke 
 obtained from her a solemn engagement that, on his 
 return from a tour on the Continent which he was 
 about to take, she would become his wife. Then he 
 departed, having arranged for a mutual correspond- 
 ence. 
 
 In the summer of 1744 she went on a visit to 
 Lainston, near Winchester, to her maternal aunt, 
 Anne Hanmer, who was then living at the house of 
 Mr. Merrill, the son of another aunt, Susanna, who 
 was dead. 
 
 To understand the relationship of the parties, a 
 look will suffice at the following pedigree. 1 
 
 Sir George Chudleigh = Elizabeth, da. of Hugh Fortescue 
 2nd Bart. 
 
 Hugh Chudleigh = Susanna da. Sir George Chudleigh = Mary da. 
 
 2nd surv. son, 
 d. 1716 
 
 Sir R.Stroud. s. & h., 3rd Bart., I R.Lee, 
 
 d. 1719. d. 1710. 
 
 I . .1 
 
 Susanna, Anne, Henrietta = Thomas Chudleigh, Sir George 
 
 2nd son, Chudleigh, 
 
 d. 1740, d. 1764, d. 1756. 
 
 m. John m. Wm. 
 Merrill. Hanmer. 
 
 d. before 1734. 4th Bart. 
 
 d. s. p. 
 1738. 
 
 I I 
 
 Elizabeth, Sir Thomas Chudleigh, 
 
 Duchess of Kingston, 5th Bart., d. s. p. 1741. 
 d. 1788. 
 
 Mrs. Hanmer, a widow, kept house for her nephew, 
 who was squire. At the Winchester races, to which 
 she went with a party, Elizabeth met Lieutenant 
 Hervey, second son of the late John, Lord Hervey, 
 and grandson of the Earl of Bristol. Lieutenant 
 
 1 In Col. Vivian's "Visitations of the County of Devon," the 
 pedigree is not so complete. He was unaware who the 
 wife of Thos. Chudleigh was, and he had not seen the will of 
 the duchess. 
 
3 o HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Hervey, who was in the "Cornwall," then lying at 
 Portsmouth, a vessel in Sir John Danver's squadron, 
 was born in 1724, and was therefore two years the 
 senior of Elizabeth ; indeed, at the time he was only 
 just twenty. He was fascinated by the beautiful girl, 
 and was invited by Mrs. Hanmer to Lainston. "To 
 this gentleman," says the " Authentic Detail," " Mrs. 
 Hanmer became so exceedingly partial that she 
 favoured his views on her niece, and engaged her 
 efforts to effect, if possible, a matrimonial connexion. 
 There were two difficulties which would have been 
 insurmountable if not opposed by the fertile genius 
 of a female: Miss Chudleigh disliked Captain Hervey, 
 and she was betrothed to the Duke of Hamilton. To 
 render this last nugatory, the letters of his Grace were 
 intercepted by Mrs. Hanmer, and his supposed silence 
 giving offence to her niece, she worked so successfully 
 on her pride as to induce her to abandon all thoughts 
 of the lover, whose passion she had cherished with 
 delight." 
 
 Is this story true ? It seems incredible that Mrs. 
 Hanmer should have urged her niece to throw over 
 such a splendid prospect of family advancement as 
 that offered by marriage with the Duke of Hamilton, for 
 the sake of an impecunious young sailor who was 
 without the means of supporting his wife, and who, , 
 at that time, had not the faintest expectation of suc- 
 ceeding to the Earldom of Bristol. 
 
 It is allowable to hope that the story of the engage- 
 ment to the Duke of Hamilton, broken through the 
 intrigues of the aunt, is true, as it forms some excuse 
 for the after conduct of Elizabeth Chudleisrh. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 31 
 
 It is more probable that the Duke of Hamilton had 
 not said anything to Elizabeth, and did not write to 
 her, at all events not till later. She may have enter- 
 tained a liking for him, but not receiving any token 
 that the liking was reciprocated, she allowed her aunt 
 to engage and marry her to young Hervey. That 
 the poor girl had no fancy for the young man is 
 abundantly clear. The Attorney General, in the trial, 
 said that Mrs. Hanmer urged on the match " as ad- 
 vantageous to her niece ; " but advantageous it 
 certainly was not, and gave no prospect of being. 
 
 In August, Augustus John Hervey got leave from 
 his ship and came to Lainston. The house, which 
 had belonged to the Dawleys, had passed into the 
 possession of the Merrills. In the grounds stands the 
 parish church, but as the only house in the parish is 
 the mansion, it came to be regarded very much as the 
 private chapel of the manor house. The living went 
 with Sparsholt There was no parsonage attached, 
 and though the Dawleys had their children baptized 
 in Lainston, they were registered in the book of Spars- 
 holt. The church is now an ivy-covered ruin, and the 
 mansion is much reduced in size from what it was in 
 the time when it belonged to the Merrills. 
 
 "Lainston is a small parish, the value of the living 
 being ^15 a year ; Mr. Merrill's the only house in it, 
 and the parish church at the end of his garden. On 
 the 4th August,- 1744, Mr. Amis, the then rector, was 
 appointed to be at the church, alone, late at night. 
 At eleven o'clock Mr. Hervey and Miss Chudleigh 
 went out, as if to walk in the garden, followed by Mrs. 
 Hanmer, her servant — Anne Craddock, Mr. Merrill, 
 
32 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 and Mr. Mountenay, which last carried a taper to read 
 the service by. They found Mr. Amis in the church, 
 according to his appointment, and there the service 
 was celebrated, Mr. Mountenay holding the taper in 
 his hat. The ceremony being performed, Mrs. Han- 
 mer's maid was despatched to see that the coast was 
 clear, and they returned into the house without being 
 observed by any of the servants." This is the ac- 
 count of the wedding given at the trial by the Attorney 
 General, from the evidence of Anne Craddock, then 
 the sole surviving witness. 
 
 There was no signing of registers, Mr. Amis was 
 left to make the proper entry in the Sparsholt book — 
 and he forgot to do this. The happiness of the newly- 
 married couple lasted but a few days — two, or at the 
 outside, three ; and then Lieutenant Hervey left to 
 rejoin his vessel, and in November sailed for the West 
 Indies. The " Authentic Detail " declares that a 
 violent quarrel broke out immediately on marriage 
 between the young people, and that Elizabeth declared 
 her aversion, and vowed never to associate with him 
 again. 
 
 So little was the marriage to her present advantage 
 that Elizabeth was unable to proclaim it, and thereby 
 forfeit her situation as maid of honour to the Princess, 
 with its pay and perquisites. Consequently, by her 
 aunt's advice, she kept it concealed. 
 
 " Miss Chudleigh, now Mrs. Hervey, — a maid in 
 appearance, a wife in disguise, — seemed from those 
 who judge from externals only, to be in an enviable 
 situation. Of the higher circles she was the attractive 
 centre, of gayer life the invigorating spirit. Her royal 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 33 
 
 mistress not only smiled on, but actually approved 
 her. A few friendships she cemented, and conquests 
 she made in such abundance that, like Csesar in a 
 triumph, she had a train of captives at her heels. 
 Her husband, quieted for a time, grew obstreperous 
 as she became more the object of admiration. He 
 felt his right, and was determined to assert it. She 
 endeavoured by letter to negotiate him into peace, but 
 her efforts succeeded not. He demanded a private 
 interview, and, enforcing his demands by threats of 
 exposure in case of refusal, she complied through 
 compulsion." 
 
 The Duke of Hamilton returned from the grand 
 tour, and he at once sought Elizabeth to know why 
 his letters had not been answered. Then the fraud 
 that had been practised on her was discovered, and 
 the Duke laid his coronet at her feet. She was 
 unable to accept the offer, and unable also to explain 
 the reasons of her refusal. Rage at having been 
 duped, disappointment at having lost the strawberry 
 leaves, embittered Elizabeth, and stifled the germs of 
 good principle in her. 
 
 This is the generally received story. It is that 
 given by the author, or authoress, of the " Authentic 
 Detail," usually^well informed. But, as we have seen, 
 it is hardly possible to suppose that Mrs. Hanmer 
 can have suppressed the Duke's letters. No doubt 
 she was a fool, (and a woman, when a fool, is of 
 abnormaljblly, yet she never loses sight of her own in- 
 terest; and it was not Mrs. Hanmer's interest to spoil 
 the chances of her niece with the Duke. 
 
 After the Duke of Hamilton had been refused, and 
 
34 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 his visits to her house in Conduit Street prohibited, 
 the Duke of Ancaster, Lord Howe, and other nobles 
 made offers, and experienced a fate similar to that of 
 his Grace of Hamilton. This astonished the fashion- 
 able world, and Mrs. Chudleigh, her mother, who was 
 a stranger to the private marriage of her daughter 
 reprehended her folly with warmth. 1 To be freed 
 from her embarrassments, Elizabeth resolved to travel. 
 She embarked for the Continent, and visited Dresden, 
 where she became an attached friend of the Electress 
 of Saxony. 
 
 On her return to England she was subjected to an- 
 noyance from her husband. She could not forgive him 
 the deception practised on her, though he was prob- 
 ably innocent of connivance in it. 
 
 " Captain Hervey, like a perturbed spirit, was 
 eternally crossing the path trodden by his wife. 
 Was she in the rooms at Bath ? he was sure to be 
 there. At a rout, ridotto, or ball, there was this fell 
 destroyer of peace, embittering every pleasure and 
 blighting the fruit of happiness by the pestilential 
 malignity of his presence. As a proof of his disposi- 
 tion to annoy, he menaced his wife with an intimation 
 that he would disclose the marriage to the Princess 
 of Wales. In this Miss Chudleigh anticipated him 
 by being the first relater of the circumstance. Her 
 royal mistress heard and pitied her. She continued 
 her patronage to the hour of her death." 
 
 In 1749, Elizabeth attended a masquerade ball in 
 the dress, or rather undress, of the character of 
 
 1 Mrs. Chudleigh died in 1756, and her will mentions her 
 daughter by her maiden name. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 35 
 
 Iphigenia. [In a letter of Mrs. Montague to her 
 sister, she says, " Miss Chudleigh's dress, or rather 
 undress, was remarkable, she was Iphigenia for the 
 sacrifice, but so naked, the high priest might easily 
 inspect the entrails of the victim. The Maids of 
 Honour (not of maids the strictest) were so offended 
 they would not speak to her." Horace Walpole says, 
 " Miss Chudleigh was Iphigenia, but so naked that 
 you would have taken her for Andromeda." It was 
 of her that the witty remark was then first made that 
 she resembled Eve in that she was " naked and not 
 ashamed." On May 17th Walpole writes: "I told 
 you we were to have another masquerade ; there 
 was one by the King's command for Miss Chudleigh, 
 the Maid of Honour, with whom our gracious monarch 
 has a mind to believe himself in love, so much in love, 
 that at one of the booths he gave her a fairing for 
 her watch, which cost him five-and-thirty' guineas, 
 actually disbursed out of his privy purse, and not 
 charged on the civil list. I hope some future Holin- 
 shed or Speed will acquaint posterity that five-and- 
 thirty guineas were an immense sum in those days." 
 
 In December 1750, George II. gave the situation 
 of Housekeeper at Windsor to Mrs. Chudleigh, 
 Elizabeth's mother. Walpole says, " Two days ago, 
 the gallant Orondates (the King) strode up to Miss 
 Chudleigh, and told her he was glad to have the 
 opportunity of obeying her commands, that he ap- 
 pointed her mother Housekeeper at Windsor, and 
 hoped she would not think a kiss too great a reward 
 — against all precedent he kissed her in the circle. 
 He has had a hankerinsr. these two years. Her life, 
 
56 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 which is now of thirty years' standing, has been a 
 little historic. Why should not experience and a 
 charming face on her side, and near seventy years on 
 his, produce a title ? " 
 
 In 1760 she gave a soiree on the Prince's birthday, 
 which Horace Walpole describes : " Poor thing," he 
 writes, " I fear she has thrown away above a quarter's 
 salary ! ' 
 
 The Duke of Kingston saw and was captivated by 
 Elizabeth. Evelyn Pierrepoint, Duke of Kingston, 
 Marquis of Dorchester, Earl of Kingston, and Vis- 
 count Newark, was born in 171 1. Horace Walpole 
 says of him that he was " a very weak man, of the 
 greatest beauty and finest person in England." 
 
 He had been to Paris along with Lord Scarborough, 
 taking with him an entire horse as a present to the 
 Duke of Bourbon, and was unable to do this without 
 a special Act of Parliament to authorise him. The 
 Duke of Bourbon, in return for the compliment, 
 placed his palace at Paris, and his chateau of Chan- 
 tilly at the disposal of the visitor. 
 
 The Duke was handsome, young, wealthy and un- 
 married. A strong set was made at him by the 
 young ladies of the French court ; but of all the 
 women he there met, none attracted his attentions 
 and engaged his heart but the Marquise de la Touche, 
 a lady who had been married for ten years and was 
 the mother of three children. He finally persuaded 
 her to elope with him to England, where, however, he 
 grew cold towards her, and when he fell under the 
 fascinations of Elizabeth Chudleigh he dismissed her. 
 The Marquise returned to France, and was reconciled 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 37 
 
 to her husband; there in 1786 she published her 
 version of the story, and gave a history of her rival, 
 whom naturally she paints in the blackest colours. 
 
 Now follows an incident which is stated in the 
 English accounts of the life of Elizabeth Chudleigh ; 
 but of which there is no mention in the trial, and 
 which is of more than doubtful truth. 
 
 She had become desperate, resolved at all hazard 
 to break the miserable tie that bound her to Captain 
 Hervey. She made a sudden descent on Lainston — 
 so runs the tale — visited the parsonage, and whilst Mr. 
 Amis was kept in conversation with one of her atten- 
 dants, she tore out the leaf of the register book that 
 contained the entry of her marriage. 
 
 This story cannot possibly be true. As already 
 said, Lainston has no parsonage, and never had. 
 Lainston goes with Sparsholt, half-a-mile off. But Mr. 
 Amis never held Sparsholt, but acted as curate there 
 for a while in 1756 and 1757. Lainston had no 
 original register. What Elizabeth did was probably 
 to convince herself that through inadvertence, her 
 marriage had not been registered in the parish book 
 of Sparsholt. 
 
 In 175 1 died John, Earl of Bristol, and was suc- 
 ceeded by his grandson, George William, who was 
 unmarried. He was in delicate health ; at one time 
 seriously ill, and it was thought he would die. In that 
 case Augustus John, Elizabeth's husband, would suc- 
 ceed to the Earldom of Bristol. She saw now that it 
 was to her interest to establish her marriage. She 
 accordingly took means to do so. 
 
 She went at once to Winchester and sent for the 
 
38 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 wife of Mr. Amis, who had married her. She told 
 Mrs. Amis that she wanted the register of her mar- 
 riage to be made out. Mr. Amis then lay on his 
 death-bed, but, nevertheless, she went to the rectory 
 to obtain of him what she desired. What ensued 
 shall be told in the words of Mrs. Amis at the 
 trial. 
 
 vl went up to Mr. Amis and told him her request. 
 Then Mr. Merrill and the lady consulted together 
 whom to send for, and they desired me to send for 
 Mr. Spearing, the attorney. I did send for him, and 
 during the time the messenger was gone the lady 
 concealed herself in a closet ; she said she did not 
 care that Mr. Spearing should know that she was 
 there. When Mr. Spearing came, Mr. Merrill pro- 
 duced a sheet of stamped paper that he brought to 
 make the register upon. Mr. Spearing said it would 
 not do ; it must be a book, and that the lady must 
 be at the making of it. Then I went to the closet 
 and told the lady. Then the lady came to Mr. 
 Spearing, and Mr. Spearing told the lady a sheet of 
 stamped paper would not do, it must be a book. 
 Then the lady desired Mr. Spearing to go and buy 
 one. Mr. Spearing went and bought one, and when 
 brought, the register was made. Then Mr. Amis 
 delivered it to the lady ; the lady thanked him, and 
 said it might be an hundred thousand pounds in her 
 way. Before Mr. Merrill and the lady left my house 
 the lady sealed up the register and gave it to me, and 
 desired I would take care of it until Mr. Amis's 
 death, and then deliver it to Mr. Merrill." 
 
 The entries made thus were those : 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 39 
 
 "2 August, Mrs. Susanna Merrill, relict of John Merrill, Esq. 
 buried. 
 
 4 August, 1744, married the Honourable Augustus Hervey, 
 Esq., in the parish Church of Lainston, to Miss Elizabeth Chud- 
 leigh, daughter of Col. Thomas Chudleigh, late of Chelsea 
 College, by me, Thos. Amis." 
 
 Unfortunately this register book was taken up to 
 Westminster at the trial of the Duchess and was 
 never returned. Application was made to Elbrow 
 Woodcock, solicitor in the trial, for the return of the 
 book, by the then rector and patron of the living, but 
 in vain ; and in December, 1777, a new register book 
 was purchased for the parish. 
 
 The Earl recovered, and did not die till some years 
 later, in 1775, when Augustus John did succeed to 
 the earldom. 
 
 In 175 1, the Prince of Wales died, and this ne- 
 cessitated a rearrangement of the household of the 
 Princess. Elizabeth was reappointed maid of honour 
 to her, still in her maiden name. Soon after — that is, 
 in 1752 — the Duke of Hamilton married the beautiful 
 Miss Gunning. 
 
 In 1760 the king was dead. " Charles Townshend, 
 receiving an account of the impression the king's 
 death had made," writes Walpole, "was told Miss 
 Chudleigh cried. ' What,' said he, ' oysters ? ' " 
 "(There is no keeping off age," he writes in 1767, "as 
 Miss Chudleigh does, by sticking roses and sweet 
 peas in one's hair." 
 
 Before this, in 1765, the Duke of Kingston's 
 affection for her seeming to wane, Elizabeth, who was 
 getting fat as well as old, started for Carlsbad to 
 drink the waters. " She has no more wanted the 
 
40 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Carlsbad waters than you did," wrote Lord Chester- 
 field. " Is it to show the Duke of Kingston he can 
 not live without her ? A dangerous experiment, 
 which may possibly convince him that he can. 
 There is a trick, no doubt, in it, but what, I neither 
 know nor care." " Is the fair, or, at least, the fat Miss 
 Chudleigh with you still ? It must be confessed she 
 knows the arts of courts to be so received at Dresden 
 and so connived at in Leicester Fields." 
 
 At last the bonds of a marriage in which he was 
 never allowed even to speak with his wife became 
 intolerable to Captain Hervey ; and some negotiations 
 were entered into between them, whereby it was 
 agreed that she should institute a suit in the Con- 
 sistory Court of the Bishop of London for the 
 jactitation of the marriage, and that he should not 
 produce evidence to establish it. The case came on 
 in the Michaelmas term, 1768, and was in form, pro- 
 ceedings to restrain the Hon. Augustus John Hervey 
 from asserting that Elizabeth Chudleigh was his wife, 
 " to the great danger of his soul's health, no small 
 prejudice to the said Hon. Elizabeth Chudleigh, and 
 pernicious example of others." 
 
 There was a counter-suit of Captain Hervey against 
 her, in which he asserted that in 1743 or 1744, being 
 then a minor of the age of seventeen or eighteen, he 
 had contracted himself in marriage to Elizabeth 
 Chudleigh, and she to him ; and that they had been 
 married in the house of Mr. Merrill, on August 9, 
 1744, at eleven o'clock at night, by the Rev. Thomas 
 Amis, since deceased, and in the presence of Mrs. 
 Hanmer and Mr. Mountenay, both also deceased. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 41 
 
 As will be seen, the counter-libel was incorrectly 
 drawn. The marriage had not taken place in the 
 house, but in the church ; Mr. Hervey was aged 
 twenty, not seventeen or eighteen ; and Anne Crad- 
 dock, the sole surviving witness of the ceremony, was 
 not mentioned. The register of the marriage was not 
 produced, 1 and no serious attempt was made to 
 establish it. Accordingly, on February 10, 1769, 
 sentence was given, declaring the marriage form gone 
 through in 1744 to have been null and void, and to 
 restrain Mr. Hervey from asserting his claim to be 
 husband to Miss Elizabeth Chudleigh, and condemn- 
 ing him in costs to the sum of one hundred pounds. 
 
 As the Attorney-General said at her subsequent 
 trial, " a grosser artifice, I believe, than this suit was 
 never fabricated." 
 
 On March 8, 1769, the Duke of Kingston married 
 Elizabeth Chudleigh by special licence from the Arch- 
 bishop, the minister who performed it being the Rev. 
 Samuel Harper, of the British Museum, and the 
 Church, St. Margaret's, Westminster. The Prince 
 and Princess of Wales wore favours on the occa- 
 sion. 
 
 No attempt was made during the lifetime of the 
 
 Duke to dispute the legality of the marriage. Neither 
 
 he nor Elizabeth had the least doubt that the former 
 
 marriage had been legally dissolved. It was, no doubt, 
 
 the case that Captain Hervey made no real attempt 
 
 1 Mr. John Merrill died February 1767, and his burial was 
 entered in it. Mr. Bathurst, who had married his daughter, 
 found the register book in the hall, and handed it over to the 
 rector, Mr. Kinchin. Nevertheless it was not produced at the 
 hearing of the case for jactitation in the Consistory Court. 
 
42 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 to prove his marriage, he was as impatient of the 
 bond as was she. It can hardly be doubted that the 
 sentence of the Ecclesiastical Court was just. Captain 
 Hervey was a minor at the time, and the poor girl 
 had been deluded into marrying him by her wretched 
 aunt. Advantage had been taken of her — a mere 
 girl — by the woman who was her natural guardian in 
 the absence of her mother. Such a marriage would 
 at once be annulled in the Court of the Church of 
 Rome ; it would be annulled in a modern English 
 divorce court. 
 
 The fortune of the Duke was not entailed ; his 
 Grace had, therefore, the option to bequeath it as 
 seemed best to his inclination. His nearest of kin 
 were his nephews, Evelyn and Charles Meadows, sons 
 of Lady Francis Pierrepont ; Charles was in 1806 
 created Earl Manners ; he had previously changed 
 his name to Pierrepont, and been created Baron 
 Pierrepont and Viscount Newark in 1796. 
 
 ;The Duke was and remained warmly attached to 
 the Duchess. She made him happy. She had 
 plenty of conversation, had her mind stored with 
 gossip, and though old, oldened gracefully and 
 pleasantly. Her bitter enemy — an old servant and 
 confidant, who furnished the materials for the " Au- 
 thentic Detail," says, " Contrarily gifted and disposed, 
 they were frequently on discordant terms, but she 
 had a strong hold on his mind." 
 
 On September 23, 1773, the Duke died. The 
 Duchess had anticipated his death. He had already 
 made his will, bequeathing to her the entire income 
 of his estates during her life, subject to the proviso 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 43 
 
 that she remained in a state of widowhood. This 
 did not at all please the Duchess, and directly she 
 saw that her husband was dying she sent for a soli- 
 citor, a Mr. Field, to draw up a new will, omitting 
 the obnoxious proviso ; she was only by two years 
 on the right side of fifty, and might marry again. 
 When Mr. Field was introduced to the Duke, he saw 
 that the dying man was not in a mental condition 
 capable of executing a will, and he refused to have 
 anything to do with an attempt to extort his signa- 
 ture from him. The Duchess was very angry ; but 
 the refusal of Mr. Field was most fortunate for her, 
 as, had the will proposed been executed, it would 
 most indubitably have been set aside. 
 
 I As soon as the Duke was dead the dowager Duchess 
 determined to enjoy life. She had a pleasure yacht 
 built, placed in command of it an officer who had 
 served in the navy, fitted it up with every luxury, 
 sailed for Italy, and visited Rome, where the Pope 
 and the cardinals received her with great courtesy. 
 Indeed, she was given up one of the palaces of the 
 cardinals for her residence. Whilst she was amusing 
 herself in Italy something happened in England that 
 was destined to materially spoil her happiness. Anne 
 Craddock was still alive, the sole witness of her 
 marriage that survived. She was in bad circum- 
 stances, and applied to Mr. Field for pecuniary relief. 
 He refused it, but the Duchess sent to offer her 
 twenty guineas per annum. This Anne Craddock 
 refused, and gave intimation to Mr. Evelyn Meadows 
 that she had information of importance which she 
 could divulge. 
 
44 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 When Mr. Meadows heard what Anne Craddock 
 had to say, he set the machinery of the law in motion 
 to obtain the prosecution of the Duchess, in the 
 hopes of convicting her of bigamy, and then of up- 
 setting the will of the late Duke in her favour. A 
 bill of indictment for bigamy was preferred against 
 her ; the bill was found, Mr. Field had notice of the 
 procedure, and the Duchess was advised to return 
 instantly to England and appear to the indictment, 
 to prevent an outlawry. 
 
 At this time — that is, in 1775 — the Earl of Bristol 
 died without issue, and Augustus John, her first 
 husband, succeeded to the title. 
 
 The anxieties of the Duchess were not confined to 
 the probable issue of the trial. Samuel Foote, the 
 comedian, took a despicable advantage of her situa- 
 tion to attempt to extort money from her. He wrote 
 a farce, entitled " A Trip to Calais," in which he in- 
 troduced her Grace under the sobriquet of Lady 
 Kitty Crocodile, and stuffed the piece with particulars, 
 relative to the private history of the Duchess, which 
 he had obtained from Miss Penrose, a young lady 
 who had been about her person for many years. 
 When the piece was finished, he contrived to have it 
 communicated to her Grace that the Haymarket 
 Theatre would open with the entertainment in which 
 she was held up to ridicule and scorn. She was 
 alarmed, and sent for Foote. He attended with the 
 piece in his pocket. She desired him to read a part 
 of it. He obeyed ; and had not read far before she 
 could no longer control herself, but, starting up in a 
 rage, exclaimed, " This is scandalous, Mr. Foote 1 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 45 
 
 Why, what a wretch you have made me ! " After a 
 few turns round the room, she composed herself to 
 inquire on what terms he would suppress the play. 
 Foote had the effrontery to demand two thousand 
 pounds. She offered him fourteen, then sixteen hun- 
 dred pounds ; but he, grasping at too much, lost all. 
 She consulted the Duke of Newcastle, and the Lord 
 Chamberlain was apprised of the circumstances, and 
 his interference solicited. He sent for the manuscript 
 copy of the " Trip to Calais," perused, and censured 
 it. In the event of its publication she threatened to 
 prosecute Foote for libel. Public opinion ranged itself 
 on the side of the Duchess, and Dr. Schomberg only ex- 
 pressed its opinion when he said that " Foote deserved 
 to be run through the body for such an attempt. It was 
 more ignoble than the conduct of a highwayman." 
 
 (On April 17, 1776, the trial of the Duchess came 
 on in Westminster Hall, and lasted five days. The 
 principal object argued was the admission, or not, of 
 a sentence of the Spiritual Court, in a suit for jactita- 
 tion of marriage, in an indictment for polygamy. As 
 the judges decided against the admission of such a 
 sentence in bar to evidence, the fact of the two mar- 
 riages was most clearly proved, and a conviction of 
 course followed. The Duchess was tried by the 
 Peers, a hundred and nineteen of whom sat and 
 passed judgment upon her, all declaring " Guilty, 
 upon mine honour," except the Duke of Newcastle, 
 who pronounced " Guilty, erroneously ; but not in- 
 tentionally, upon mine honour." 
 
 No sooner did the Duchess see that her cause was 
 lost than she determined to escape out of England. 
 
46 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 The penalty for bigamy was death, but she could 
 escape this sentence by claiming the benefits of the 
 statute 3 and 4 William and Mary, which left her in 
 a condition to be burnt in the hand, or imprisoned ; 
 but she claimed the benefit of the peerage, and the 
 Lord Chief Baron, having conferred with the rest of 
 the judges, delivered their unanimous opinion that 
 she ought "to be immediately discharged." How- 
 ever, her prosecutors prepared a writ " ne exeat 
 regno," to obtain her arrest and the deprivation of 
 her personal property. To escape this she fled to 
 Dover, where her yacht was in waiting, and crossed 
 to Calais, whilst amusing the public and her prosecu- 
 tors by issuing invitations to a dinner at Kingston 
 House, and causing her carriage to appear in the 
 most fashionable quarters of the town. Mr. Meadows 
 had carried his first point ; she could no longer call 
 herself Dowager Duchess of Kingston in England, 
 but she was reinstated in her position of wife to 
 Augustus John Hervey, and was therefore now 
 Countess of Bristol. Mr. Meadows next proceeded 
 to attack the will of the late Duke, but in this at- 
 tempt he utterly failed. The will was confirmed, 
 and Elizabeth, Countess of Bristol, was acknowledged 
 as lawfully possessed of life interest in the property 
 of the Duke so long as she remained unmarried. 
 Mr. Meadows was completely ruined, and his sole 
 gain was to keep the unhappy woman an exile from 
 England. 
 
 Abroad the Countess was still received as Duchess 
 of Kingston. She lived in considerable state, and 
 visited Italy, Russia, and France. Her visit to St. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 47 
 
 Petersburg was splendid, and to ensure a favourable 
 reception by the Empress Catharine she sent her a 
 present of some of the valuable paintings by old 
 masters from Kingston House. When in Russia she 
 purchased an estate near the capital, to which she 
 gave the name of Chudleigh, and which cost her 
 25,ooo£. 1 The Empress also gave her a property on 
 the Neva. She had a corvette built of mahogany 
 which was to be a present to the Empress, but the ves- 
 sel stranded on the coast of Ingermanland. Eight of 
 the cannons out of her are now at Chudleigh, almost 
 the only things there that recall the Duchess. She 
 gave magnificent entertainments ; at one of these, to 
 which the Empress was invited, a hundred and forty 
 of her own servants attended in the Kingston livery 
 of black turned up with red and silver. 
 \ On her return from Russia she bought an estate at 
 Montmartre, which cost her 9,000/., and another that 
 belonged to one of the French royal princes at Saint 
 Assise, which cost her 55,000/. The chateau was so 
 large that three hundred beds could be made up in it. 
 *She was getting on in years, but did not lose her 
 energy, her vivacity, and her selfishness. Once in 
 Rome, the story goes, she had been invited to visit 
 some tombs that were famous. She replied with a 
 touch of real feeling : " Ce n'est pas la peine de 
 chercher des tombeaux, on en porte assez dans son 
 cceur." 
 
 1 This place still bears the name. It is on the main road 
 through Livland and Esthonia to St. Petersburg ; about twenty 
 miles from Narwa. It also goes by the name of Fockenhof. 
 The present mansion is more modern, and belongs to the family 
 of Von Wilcken. 
 
4 8 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 The account of her death shall be given in the 
 words of the author of " Authentic Detail." 
 
 "She was at dinner, when her servants received in- 
 telligence of a sentence respecting the house near 
 Paris having been awarded against her. She flew 
 into a violent passion, and, in the agitation of 
 her mind and body, burst an internal blood-vessel. 
 Even this she appeared to have surmounted, until a 
 few days afterwards, on the morning of the 26th 
 August (1788), when about to rise from her bed, a 
 servant who had long been with her endeavoured at 
 dissuasion. The Duchess addressed her thus: 'I am 
 not very well, but I will rise. At your peril disobey 
 me ; I will get up and walk about the room. Ring 
 for the secretary to assist me.' She was obeyed, 
 dressed, and the secretary entered the chamber. The 
 Duchess then walked about, complained of thirst, 
 and said, ' I could drink a glass of my fine Madeira 
 and eat a slice of toasted bread ; I shall be quite well 
 afterwards ; but let it be a large glass of wine.' The 
 attendant reluctantly brought and the Duchess drank 
 the wine. She then said, ' I knew the Madeira would 
 do me good. My heart feels oddly ; I will have 
 another glass.' She then walked a little about the 
 room, and afterwards said, 'I will lie on the couch.' 
 She sat on the couch, a female having hold of each 
 hand. In this situation she soon appeared to have 
 fallen into a profound sleep, until the women found 
 her hands colder than ordinary ; other domestics 
 were rung for, and the Duchess was found to have 
 expired, as the wearied labourer sinks into the arms 
 of rest." 
 
THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 49 
 
 Was it a touch of final malice or of real regret that 
 caused the old lady, by codicil to her will dated May 
 10, 1787, to leave pearl earrings and necklace to the 
 Marquise de la Touche ? Was it a token that she 
 forgave her the cruel book, " Les aventures trop 
 amoureuses ; ou, Elizabeth Chudleigh," which she 
 wrote, or caused to be written, for the blackening of 
 her rival, and the whitewashing of herself? Let us 
 hope it was so. The proviso in the Duke's will saved 
 her from herself; but for that she would have married 
 an adventurer who called himself the Chevalier de 
 Wortha, a man who obtained great influence over 
 her, and finally died by his own hand. 
 
 Elizabeth Chudleigh's character and career have 
 never been sketched by friends ; her enemies, those 
 jealous of her fascinations, angry at her success, dis- 
 contented with not having been sufficiently considered 
 in her will, have given us their impressions of hen 
 have poured out all the evil they knew and imagined 
 of her. She has been hardly used. The only per- 
 fectly reliable authority for her history is the report 
 of her trial, and that covers only one portion of her 
 story. The "Authentic Detail" published by G. 
 Kearsley, London, in 1788, is anonymous. It is 
 fairly reliable, but tinctured by animosity. The book 
 " Les Aventures trop Amoureuses, ou, Elizabeth 
 Chudleigh, ex-duchesse douairiere de Kingston, 
 aujourd'hui Comtesse de Bristol, et la Marquise de la 
 Touche. Londres, aux depens des Interessez, 1776," 
 was composed for the justification of Madame de la 
 Touche, and with all the venom of a discomfited and 
 supplanted rival. 
 
50 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 An utterly worthless book, " Histoire de la vie et 
 des Aventures de la Duchesse de Kingston, a 
 Londres, et se trouve a Paris, Chez Quillot, 1789," is 
 fiction. It pretends to be based on family papers. 
 At the commencement it gives a portion of the diary 
 of Col. Thomas Chudleigh, in which, among other 
 impossibilities, he records his having reduced the 
 rents of his tenants on his estates twenty per cent, 
 because the year was bad. As it happened, Col. 
 Thomas Chudleigh neither possessed an acre of land, 
 nor a tenant. 
 
 In 181 3 appeared "La Duchesse de Kingston, 
 memoires redige's par M. de Favolle," in two volumes ; 
 this is based solely on the preceding with rich addi- 
 tions from the imagination of the author. Not a 
 statement in it can be trusted. 
 
 Some little reliable information may be found in 
 the " Memoires de la Baronne d'Oberkirch," Paris 
 1853- 
 
(Seneral flDallet 
 
 On the return of Napoleon to Paris from Moscow, he 
 was depressed with news that troubled him more than 
 the loss of his legions. The news that had reached 
 him related to perhaps the most extraordinary con- 
 spiracy that was ever devised, and which was within 
 an ace of complete success. It was the news of this 
 conspiracy that induced him to desert the army in 
 the snows of Russia and hasten to Paris. The 
 thoughts of this conspiracy frustrated by an accident, 
 as Alison says, " incessantly occupied his mind during 
 his long and solitary journey." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Napoleon, when the report of 
 the conspiracy was read over to him, " we must no 
 longer disbelieve in miracles." 
 
 Claude Francois Mallet belonged to a noble family 
 in the Franche Comte. He was born on June 28th, 
 1754, at Dole, and passed his early life in the army, 
 where he commanded one of the first battalions of 
 the Jura at the commencement of the Revolution. 
 In May 1793, he was elevated to the rank of adjutant- 
 General, and in August 1799, made General of 
 Brigade, and commanded a division under Cham- 
 pionnet. He was a man of enthusiastically Re- 
 publican views, and viewed the progress of Napoleon 
 with dissatisfaction mingled with envy. There can 
 be no question as to what his opinions were at first; 
 
52 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 whether he changed them afterwards is not so certain. 
 He was a reserved, hard, and bitter man, ambitious 
 and restless. Envy of Napoleon, jealousy of his. 
 success seems to have been the ruling motive in his. 
 heart that made of him a conspirator, and not 
 genuine disgust at Csesarism. 
 
 Bonaparte knew his political opinions ; and though 
 he did not fear the man, he did not trust him. He- 
 became implicated in some illegal exactions at Civita 
 Vecchia, in the Roman States, and was in conse- 
 quence deprived of his command, and sent before a 
 commission of enquiry at Paris, in July 1807 ; and, in 
 virtue of their sentence, he was confined for a short 
 while, and then again set at liberty and reinstated. 
 In 1808, when the war in the Peninsula broke out, 
 Mallet entered at Dijon into a plot, along with some 
 old anarchists, for the overthrow of the Emperor,, 
 among them the ex-General Guillaume, who betrayed 
 the plot, and Mallet was arrested and imprisoned in 
 La Force. Napoleon did not care that conspiracies, 
 against himself and his throne should be made public, 
 and consequently he contented himself with the de- 
 tention of Mallet alone. 
 
 In prison, the General did not abandon his schemes, 
 and he had the lack of prudence to commit them to 
 paper. This fell into the hands of the Government. 
 The minister regarded the scheme as chimerical and 
 unimportant. The papers were shown to Napoleon,, 
 who apparently regarded the scheme or the man as. 
 really dangerous, and ordered him to perpetual 
 detention in prison. 
 
 Time passed, and Mallet and his schemes were for- 
 
GENERAL MALLET. 53 
 
 gotten. Who could suppose that a solitary prisoner, 
 without means, without the opportunity of making 
 confederates, could menace the safety of the Empire ? 
 
 Then came the Russian campaign, in 18 12. 
 Mallet saw what Napoleon did not ; the inevitable 
 failure that must attend it ; and he immediately 
 renewed his attempts to form a plot against the 
 Emperor. 
 
 But the prison of La Force was bad headquarters 
 from which to work. He pretended to be ill, and he 
 was removed to a hospital, that of the Doctor 
 Belhomme near the Barriere du Trone. In this 
 house were the two brothers Polignac, a M. de 
 Puyvert, and the Abbe Lafon, who in 18 14 wrote 
 and published an account of this conspiracy of Mallet. 
 These men were Royalists, and Mallet was a Re- 
 publican. It did not matter so long as Napoleon 
 could be overthrown, how divergent their views might 
 be as to what form of Government was to take the 
 place of the Empire. 
 
 They came to discussion, and the Royalists sup- 
 posed that they had succeeded in convincing Mallet. 
 He, on his side, was content to dissemble his real 
 views, and to make use of these men as his agents. 
 
 The Polignac brothers were uneasy, they were 
 afraid of the consequences, and they mistrusted the 
 man who tried to draw them into his plot. Perhaps, 
 also, they considered his scheme too daring to succeed. 
 Accordingly they withdrew from the hospital, to be 
 out of his reach. It was not so with the others. The 
 Polignacs had been mixed up in the enterprise of 
 Georges, and had no wish to be again involved. 
 
54 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Whether there were many others in the plot we do 
 not know, Lafon names only four, and it does not 
 seem that M. de Puyvert took a very active part in it. 
 
 Mallet's new scheme was identical with the old one 
 that had been taken from him and shown to Napoleon. 
 Napoleon had recognized its daring and ability, and 
 had not despised it. That no further fear of Mallet 
 was entertained is clear, or he would never have been 
 transferred from the prison to a private hospital, 
 where he would be under very little supervision. 
 
 In his hospital, Mallet drew up the following 
 report of a Session of the Senate, imagined by him- 
 self: 
 
 " Senat Conservateur 
 
 "Session of 22 October, 181 2. 
 
 "The Session was opened at 8 P.M., under the presidency of 
 Senator Sieyes. 
 
 " The occasion of this extraordinary Session was the receipt 
 of the news of the death of the Emperor Napoleon, under the 
 walls of Moscow, on the 8th of the month. 
 
 " The Senate, after mature consideration of the condition of 
 affairs caused by this event, named a Commission to con- 
 sider the danger of the situation, and to arrange for the main- 
 tenance of Government and order. After having received the 
 report of this Commission, the following orders were passed by 
 the Senate. 
 
 " That as the Imperial Government has failed to satisfy the 
 aspirations of the French people, and secure peace, it be decreed 
 annulled forthwith. 
 
 " That all such officers military and civil as shall use their 
 authority prejudicially to the re-establishment of the Republic, 
 shall be declared outlawed. 
 
 " That a Provisional Government be established, to consist 
 of 13 members : — Moreau, President ; Carnot, Vice-President ; 
 General Augereau, Bigonet, Destutt-Tracy, Florent Guyot, 
 Frochot ; Mathieu Montmorency, General Mallet, Noailles, 
 Truguet ; Volney, Garat. 
 
GENERAL MALLET. 55 
 
 " That this Provisional Government be required to watch 
 over the internal and external safety of the State, and to enter into 
 negociations with the military powers for the re-establishment 
 of peace. 
 
 " That a constitution shall be drawn up and submitted to the 
 General Assembly of the French realm. 
 
 " That the National Guard be reconstituted as formerly. 
 
 "That a general Amnesty be proclaimed for all political 
 offences.; that all emigrants, exiles, be permitted to return. 
 
 " That the freedom of the Press be restored. 
 
 "That the command of the army of the Centre, and which 
 consists of 50,000 men, and is stationed near Paris, be given to 
 General Lecombe. 
 
 "That General Mallet replaces General Hulin as com- 
 mandant of Paris, and in the first division. He will have the 
 right to nominate the officers in the general staff that will 
 surround him." 
 
 There were many other orders, 19 in all, but these 
 
 will suffice to indicate the tendency of the document. 
 
 It was signed by the President and his Secretaries. 
 
 President, SlEYES. 
 Secretaries, LANJUINAIS, et GREGOIRE. 
 
 "Approved, and compared with a similar paper in my own 
 hands, 
 
 Signed, Mallet, 
 General of Division, Commandant of the main army of 
 Paris, and of the forces of the First Division." 
 
 This document, which was designed to be shown to 
 the troops, to the officers and officials, was drawn up 
 in a form so close to the genuine form, and the signa- 
 tures and seals were so accurately imitated, that the 
 document was not likely at the first glance to excite 
 mistrust. 
 
 Moreover, Mallet had drawn up an order for the 
 day, and a proclamation, which was printed in many 
 thousand copies. 
 
56 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 On the 22nd October, 18 12, at 10 o'clock at night, 
 after he had been playing cards with great composure 
 in the hospital, Mallet made his escape, along with 
 four others, one was the Abbe Lafon, another a cor- 
 poral named Rateau, whom he had named as his 
 aide-de-camp. Mallet had just twelve francs in his 
 pocket, and so furnished he embarked on his under- 
 taking to upset the throne of the Emperor. He at 
 once went to a Spanish monk, whose acquaintance 
 he had made in prison ; and in his rooms found his 
 general's uniform which had been brought there by 
 a woman the evening before. Uniforms and swords 
 for his confederates were also ready. But it rained 
 that night — it rained in torrents, and the streets of 
 Paris ran with water. It has been remarked that rain 
 in Paris has a very sobering effect on political agita- 
 tions, and acts even better than bayonets in prevent- 
 ing a disturbance of the public peace. 
 
 Mallet and his confederates could not leave their 
 shelter till after midnight, and some of them did not 
 appear at the place of rendezvous till 6 o'clock in the 
 morning. Indisputably this had much to do with the 
 defeat of the plot. 
 
 The success of the undertaking depended on dark- 
 ness, on the sudden bewilderment of minds, and the 
 paralysis of the government through the assassin- 
 ation of some of the ministers. About 2 A.M. Mallet 
 appeared in his general's uniform, attended by some 
 of his confederates also in uniform, at the Popincour 
 barracks, and demanded to see the Commandant 
 Soulier at once, giving his name as Lamothe. Soulier 
 was in bed asleep. He was also unwell. He was 
 
GENERAL MALLET. 57 
 
 roused from his slumbers, hastily dressed himself, and 
 received a sealed letter, which he broke open, and 
 read : 
 
 ■"To the General of Division, Commandant-in-Chief of the troops 
 under arms in Paris, and the troops of the First Division, 
 Soulier, Commandant of the 10th Cohort." 
 
 " General Headquarters, 
 " Place Vendome. 
 " 2377/ Oct., 1812, 10 o'clock a.m. 
 
 •" M. LE Commandant, — I have given orders to the General 
 Lamothe with a police commissioner to attend at your barracks, 
 and to read before you and your Cohort the decree of the 
 senate consequent on the receipt of the news of the death of the 
 Emperor, and the cessation of the Imperial Government. The 
 said general will communicate to you the Order for the Day, 
 which you will be pleased to further to the General of Brigade. 
 You are required to get the troops under arms with all possible 
 despatch and quietness. By daybreak, the officers who are in 
 barracks will be sent to the Place de Greve, there to await 
 their companies, which will there assemble, after the instructions 
 which General Lamothe will furnish have been carried out." 
 
 Then ensued a series of dispositions for the troops, 
 and the whole was signed by Mallet. 
 
 When Soulier had read this letter, Mallet, who pre- 
 tended to be General Lamothe, handed him the 
 document already given, relating to the assembly of 
 the Senate, and its decisions. Then he gave him the 
 Order for the Day, for the 23rd and 24th October. 
 
 Colonel Soulier, raised from sleep, out of health, 
 bewildered, did not for a moment mistrust the 
 messenger, or the documents handed to him. He 
 hastened at once to put in execution the orders he 
 had received. 
 
 The same proceedings were gone through in the 
 
58 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 barracks of Les Minimes, and of Picpus ; the decree 
 of the Senate, the Order of the Day, and a Proclama- 
 tion, were read by torchlight. 
 
 Everywhere the same success. The officers had 
 not the smallest doubt as to thp authenticity of the 
 papers presented to them. Everywhere also the Pro- 
 clamation announcing the death of the Emperor, the 
 cessation of the Empire, and the establishment of the 
 Provisional Government was being placarded about. 
 
 At 6 A.M., at the head of a troop, Mallet, still act- 
 ing as General Lamothe, marched before the prison 
 of La Force, and the Governor was ordered to open 
 the gates. The Decree of the Senate and the Order 
 of 'the Day were read to him, and he was required at 
 once to discharge three state prisoners he held, 
 General Guidal, Lahorie, and a Corsican, Bocchejampe,, 
 together with certain officers there confined. He did 
 as required, and Mallet separated his troops into four 
 detachments, keeping one under his own command, 
 and placing the others under the orders of Guidal, 
 Lahorie and Bocchejampe. 
 
 Guidal and Lahorie, by his orders, now marched to 
 the Ministry of Police, where they arrested Savary, 
 Duke of Rovigo, Minister of Police. At the same 
 time Boutreux, another confederate, had gone to the 
 prefecture of the Paris police, had arrested the prefect, 
 Pasquier, and sent him to be confined in La Force; 
 
 Mallet, now at the head of 150 men, went to the 
 Etat-Major de-la-place, to go through the same farce 
 with the Commandant-de-place, and get him to sub- 
 scribe the Order for the Day. Count Hullin refused. 
 Mallet presented a pistol at his head, fired, and 
 
GENERAL MALLET. 59 
 
 Hullin fell covered with blood to the ground. Mallet 
 left him for dead, but fortunately only his jaw was 
 broken. By means of a forged order addressed to 
 the commandant of one of the regiments of the paid 
 guard of Paris, he occupied the National Bank, in 
 which, at the time, there was a considerable treasure 
 in specie. 
 
 The Etat-Major of Paris was a post of the highest 
 importance, as it was the headquarters of the whole 
 military authority in Paris. Before Mallet approached 
 it, he sent a packet to the Adjutant-General Doucet, 
 of a similar tenor to that given to Soulier and the 
 other colonels, and containing his nomination as 
 general of brigade, and a treasury order for a hundred 
 thousand francs. 
 
 Soulier, Colonel of the 10th Cohort, obeying the 
 orders he had received, the authenticity of which he 
 did not for a moment dispute, had in the meantime 
 made himself master of the H6tel-de-Ville, and had 
 stationed a strong force in the square before the 
 building. Frochot, Prefect of the Seine, was riding 
 into Paris from his country house at half-past eight 
 in the morning, when he was met by his servants, in 
 great excitement, with a note from Mallet, on the 
 outside of which were written the ominous words 
 " Fuit Imperator." Now it so happened that no tid- 
 ings of the Emperor had been received for twenty-five 
 days, and much uneasiness was felt concerning him. 
 When Frochot therefore received this notice, he be- 
 lieved it, and hurried to the H6tel-de-Ville. There 
 he received a despatch from Mallet, under the title of 
 Governor of Paris, ordering him to make ready the 
 
60 HISTORIC ODDITIES, 
 
 principal apartment in the building for the use of the 
 Provisional Government Not for a moment did 
 Frochot remember that — even if the Emperor were 
 dead, there was the young Napoleon, to whom his 
 allegiance was due ; he at once obeyed the orders he 
 had received, and began to make the Hotel ready for 
 the meeting of the Provisional Government. After- 
 wards when he was reminded that there was a son to 
 Napoleon, and that his duty was to support him, 
 Frochot answered, "Ah ! I forgot that. I was dis- 
 tracted with the news." 
 
 By means of the forged orders despatched every- 
 where, all the barriers of Paris had been seized and 
 were closed, and positive orders were issued that no 
 one was to be allowed to enter or leave Paris. 
 
 Mallet now drew up before the Etat-Major-Ge'ne'ral, 
 still accompanied and obeyed by the officer and de- 
 tachment. Nothing was wanting now but the com- 
 mand of the adjutant-general's office to give to Mallet 
 the entire direction of the military force of Paris, with 
 command of the^elegrapjij and with it of all France. 
 With that, and with the treasury already seized, he 
 would be master of the situation. In another ten 
 minutes Paris would be in his hand, and with Paris 
 the whole of France. 
 
 An accident — an accident only — at that moment 
 saved the throne of Napoleon. Doucet was a little 
 suspicious about the orders — or allowed it afterwards 
 to be supposed that he was. He read them, and 
 stood in perplexity. He would have put what doubts 
 presented themselves aside, had it not been for his 
 aide-de-camp, Laborde. It happened that Laborde 
 
 K 
 
GENERAL MALLET. 61 
 
 had had charge of Mallet in La Force, and had seen 
 him there quite recently. He came down to enter 
 the room where was Doucet, standing in doubt before 
 Mallet. Mallet's guard was before the door, and 
 would have prevented him from entering ; however, 
 he peremptorily called to them to suffer him to pass, 
 and the men, accustomed to obey his voice, allowed 
 him to enter. The moment he saw Mallet in his 
 general's uniform, he recognised him and said, " But 
 -Vhow the devil ! — That is my prisoner. How came 
 he to escape?'' Doucet still hesitated, and attempted 
 to explain, when Laborde cut his superior officer short 
 with, " There is something wrong here. Arrest the 
 fellow, and I will go at once to the minister of police." 
 _^ Mallet put his hand in his pocket to draw out the 
 pistol with which he had shot Hullin, when the 
 gesture was observed in a mirror opposite, and be- 
 fore he had time to draw and cock the pistol, Doucet 
 and Laborde were on him, and had disarmed him. 
 
 Laborde, with great promptitude, threw open the 
 
 door, and announced to the soldiers the deceit that 
 had been practised on them, and assured them that the 
 tidings of the death of the Emperor were false. 
 
 The arrest of Mallet disconcerted the whole con- 
 spiracy. Had Generals Lahorie and Guidal been 
 men of decision and resolution they might still have 
 saved it, but this they were not ; though at the head 
 of considerable bodies of men, the moment they saw 
 that their chief had met with a hitch in carrying 
 out his plan, they concluded that all was lost, and 
 made the best of their way from their posts to places 
 of concealment. 
 
62 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 It was not till 8 o'clock that Saulnier, General 
 Secretary of Police., heard of the arrest and imprison- 
 ment of his chief, Savary, Duke of Rovigo. He at 
 once hastened to Cambafjeres, the President of the 
 Ministry in the absence of the Emperor, and aston- 
 ished and alarmed him with the tidings. Then Saul- 
 nier hastened to Hullin, whom he found weltering in 
 his blood, and unable to speak. 
 
 Baron Pasquier, released from La Force, attempted 
 to return to his prefecture. The soldiers posted be- 
 fore it refused to admit him, and threatened to shoot 
 him, believing that he had escaped from prison, and 
 he was obliged to take refuge in an adjoining house. 
 Laborde, who about noon came there, was arrested 
 by the soldiers, and conducted by them as a prisoner 
 to the Etat-Major-General, to deliver him over to 
 General Mallet ; and it was with difficulty that they 
 could be persuaded that they had been deceived, and 
 that Mallet was himself, at that moment, in irons. 
 
 Savary, released from La Force, had Mallet and 
 the rest of the conspirators brought before him. 
 Soulier also, for having given too ready a credence 
 to the forged orders, was also placed under arrest, to 
 be tried along with the organisers and carriers 
 out of the plot. 
 / r W Mallet confessed with great composure that he had 
 planned the whole, but he peremptorily refused to 
 say whether he had aiders or sympathisers elsewhere. 
 
 Lahorie could not deny that he had taken an active 
 part, but declared that it was against his will, his 
 whole intention being to make a run for the United 
 States, there to spend the rest of his days in tranquillity. 
 
GENERAL MALLET. 6$ 
 
 He asserted that he had really believed that the 
 Emperor was dead. 
 
 Guidal tried to pass the whole off as a joke ; but 
 when he saw that he was being tried for his life, he 
 became greatly and abjectly alarmed. 
 
 /Next day the generals and those in the army who 
 were under charge were brought before a military 
 commission. Saulnier had an interesting interview 
 with Mallet that day. He passed through the hall 
 where Mallet was dining, when the prisoner com- 
 plained that he was not allowed the use of a knife. 
 Saulnier at once ordered that he might be permitted 
 one ; and this consideration seems to have touched 
 Mallet, for he spoke with more frankness to Saulnier 
 than he did before his judges. When the General 
 Secretary of Police asked him how he could dream of 
 success attending such a mad enterprise, Mallet re- 
 plied, "u had already three regiments of infantry on 
 my side. Very shortly I would have been surrounded 
 by the thousands who are weary of the Napoleonic 
 yoke, and are longing for a change of order. Now, I 
 was convinced that the moment the news of my 
 success in Paris reached him, Napoleon would leave 
 his army and fly home, I would have been prepared 
 for him at Mayence, and have had him shot there. 
 If it had not been for the cowardice of Guidal and 
 Lahorie, my plot would have succeeded. I had 
 resolved to collect 50,000 men at Chalons sur Marne 
 to cover Paris. The promise I would have made to 
 send all the conscripts to their homes, the moment 
 the crisis was over, would have rallied all the soldiers 
 to my side." 
 
64 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 ( On October 23, the prisoners to the number of 
 twenty-four were tried, and fourteen were condemned 
 to be shot, among these, Mallet, Guidal, Lahorie, and 
 the unfortunate Soulier. Mallet at the trial behaved 
 with great intrepidity. "Who are your accomplices?"' 
 asked the President. "The whole of France," answered 
 Mallet, " and if I had succeeded, you yourself at their 
 head. One who openly attacks a government by 
 force, if he fails, expects to die." When he was asked 
 to make his defence, " Monsieur," he said, " a man 
 who has constituted himself defender of the rights of 
 his Fatherland, needs no defence." 
 
 Soulier put in as an apology, that the news of the 
 death of the Emperor had produced such a sudorific 
 effect on him, that he had been obliged to change his 
 shirt four times in a quarter of an hour. This was 
 not considered sufficient to establish his attachment 
 to the Imperial government. 
 
 In the afternoon of the same day the fourteen were 
 conveyed to the plain of Grenelle to be shot, when 
 pardon was accorded by the Empress Regent to two 
 of the condemned, the Corporal Rateau, and Colonel 
 Rabbe. When the procession passed through the 
 Rue Grenelle, Mallet saw a group of students looking 
 on ; " Young men," he called to them, " remember the 
 23rd October." Arrived on the place of execution, 
 some of the condemned cried out, "Vive l'empereur ! " 
 only a few " Vive la Republique." 
 
 \ Mallet requested that his eyes might not be 
 bandaged, and maintained the utmost coolness. He 
 received permission, at his own desire, to give the 
 requisite orders to the soldiers drawn up to shoot him 
 
GENERAL MALLET. 65 
 
 and his party. " Peloton ! Present ! " The soldiers, 
 moved by the tragic catastrophe, obeyed, but not 
 promptly. " That is bad ! " called Mallet, " imagine 
 you are before the foe. Once again — Attention ! — 
 Present ! " This time it was better. " Not so bad 
 this time, but still not well," said the General ; " now 
 pay attention, and mind, when I say Fire, that all 
 your guns are discharged as one. It is a good lesson 
 for you to see how brave men die. Now then, again, 
 Attention ! " For a quarter of an hour he put the 
 men through their drill, till he observed that his 
 comrades were in the most deplorable condition. 
 Some had fainted, some were in convulsions. Then 
 he gave the command : Fire ! the guns rattled and 
 the ten fell to the ground, never to rise again. 
 Mallet alone reeled, for a moment or two maintaining 
 his feet, and then he also fell over, without a sound, 
 and was dead. 
 
 \But for the singular accident," says Savary, "which 
 caused the arrest of the Minister of War to fail, 
 Mallet, in a few moments, would have been master of 
 almost everything ; and in a country so much in- 
 fluenced by the contagion of example, there is no 
 saying where his success would have stopped. He 
 would have had possession of the treasury, then 
 extremely rich; the post office, the telegraph, and 
 the command of the hundred cohorts of the National 
 Guard. He would soon have learned the alarming 
 situation in Russia ; and nothing could have prevented 
 him from making prisoner of the Emperor himself if 
 he returned alone, or from marching to meet him, if 
 lie had come at the head of his shattered forces." 
 
 E 
 
66 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 As Alison says, "When the news reached Napoleon, 
 one only idea took possession of his imagination — 
 that in this crisis the succession of his son was, by 
 common consent, set aside ; one only truth was ever 
 present to his mind — that the Imperial Crown rested 
 on himself alone. The fatal truth was brought home 
 to him that the Revolution had destroyed the founda- 
 tions of hereditary succession ; and that the greatest 
 achievements by him who wore the diadem afforded 
 no security that it would descend to his progeny. 
 These reflections, which seem to have burst on 
 Napoleon all at once, when the news of this extra- 
 ordinary affair reached him in Russia, weighed him 
 down more than all the disasters of the Moscow 
 retreat." 
 
Scbweinicben's Memoirs. 
 
 /MEMOIRS, says Addison, in the Tatler, are so un- 
 trustworthy, so stuffed with lies, that, " I do hereby 
 give notice to all booksellers and translators whatso- 
 ever, that the word memoir is French for a novel ; 
 and to require of them, that they sell and translate it 
 accordingly^' 
 
 There are, however, some memoirs that are trust- 
 worthy and dull, and others, again, that are con- 
 spicuously trustworthy, and yet are as entertaining as 
 a novel, and to this latter category belong the 
 memoirs of Hans von Schweinichen, the Silesian 
 Knight, Marshal and Chamberlain to the Dukes of 
 Liegnitz and Brieg at the close of the 16th century. 
 Scherr, a well known writer on German Culture, and 
 a scrupulous observer and annotator of all that is 
 ugly and unseemly in the past, says of the diary of 
 Schweinichen : " It carries us into a noble family at 
 the end of the 16th century and reveals boorish 
 meanness, coarseness and lack of culture." That is, in 
 a measure, true, but, as is invariably the case with 
 Scherr, he leaves out of sight all the redeeming 
 elements, and there are many, that this transparently 
 sincere diarist discloses. 
 
 The MS. was first discovered and published in 
 1823, by Biisching ; it was republished in 1878 at 
 Breslau by Oesterley. The diary extends to the 
 
63 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 year 1602, and Schweinichen begins with an account 
 of his birth in 1552, and his childish years. But we 
 are wrong in saying that he begins with his birth — 
 characteristic of the protestant theological spirit of 
 his times, he begins with a confession of his faith. 
 
 As a picture of the manners and customs of the 
 highest classes in the age just after the Reformation 
 it is unrivalled for its minuteness, and for its interest. 
 The writer, who had not an idea that his diary 
 would be printed, wrote for his own amusement, and, 
 without intending it, drew a perfect portraiture of 
 himself, without exaggeration of his virtues and 
 observation of his faults ; indeed the virtues we 
 admire in him, he hardly recognised as virtues, and 
 scarcely considered as serious the faults we deplore. 
 In reading his truthful record we are angry with him, 
 and yet, he makes us love and respect him, and 
 acknowledge what sterling goodness, integrity, fidelity 
 and honour were in the man. 
 
 Hans was son of George, Knight of Schweinichen 
 and Mertschutz, and was born in the Castle of 
 Groditzberg belonging to the Dukes of Silesia, of 
 which his father was castellan, and warden of the 
 Ducal Estates thereabouts. The Schweinichens were 
 a very ancient noble Silesian family, and Hans could 
 prove his purity of blood through the sixteen de- 
 scents, eight paternal and eight maternal. 
 
 I n 1 559, Duke Frederick III. was summoned be- 
 fore the Emperor Ferdinand I. at Breslau, to answer 
 the accusations of extravagance and oppression 
 brought against him by the Silesian Estates, and 
 was deposed, imprisoned, and his son Henry XI. 
 
SCHWEINICHEN'S MEMOIRS. 69 
 
 given the Ducal crown instead. The deposition of 
 the Duke obliged the father of our hero to leave 
 Groditzberg and retire to his own estates, where 
 Hans was given the village notary as teacher in 
 reading and writing for a couple of years, and was then 
 sent, young noble though he was, to keep the geese 
 for the family. However, as he played tricks with 
 the geese, put spills into their beaks, pegging them 
 open, the flock was then withdrawn from his charge. 
 This reminds us of Grettir the Strong, the Icelandic 
 hero, who also as a boy was sent to drive the family 
 geese to pasture, and who maltreated his charge. 
 
 His father sent Hans to be page to the imprisoned 
 Duke Frederick at Liegnitz, where also he was to 
 study with the Duke's younger son, afterwards 
 Frederick IV. Hans tells us he did not get as many 
 whippings as his companion, because he slipped his 
 money-allowance into the tutor's palm, and so his 
 delinquencies were passed over. As page, he had to 
 serve the Duke at table. A certain measure of wine 
 was allowed the imprisoned Duke daily by his son, 
 the reigning Duke ; what he did not drink every day, 
 ;Hans was required to empty into a cask, and when 
 the cask was full, the Duke invited some good topers 
 to him, and they sat and drank the cask out, then 
 rolled over on the floor. All night Hans had to sit 
 or lie on the floor and watch the drunken Duke. 
 
 Duke Frederick took a dislike to the chaplain, and 
 scribbled a lampoon on him, which may be thus 
 rendered, without injustice to the original : — 
 
 " All the mischief ever done 
 
 Twixt the old Duke and his son, 
 
70 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Comes from that curs't snuffy one 
 Franconian Parson Cut-and-run." 
 
 The Duke ordered Hans to pin this to the pulpit 
 cushion, and he did so. When the pastor ascended 
 the pulpit he saw the paper, and instead of a text 
 read it out. The reigning Duke Henry was very 
 angry, and Hans was made the scape-goat, and sent 
 home in disgrace to his father. 
 
 In 1564, Hans attended his father, himself as page, 
 his father as Marshal, when Duke Henry and his 
 Duchess visited Stuttgard and Dresden. Pages were 
 not then allowed to sit astride a horse, they stood in a 
 sort of stirrup slung to the pommel, to which they 
 held. At Dresden old Schweinichen ran a tilt in a 
 tournament with the elector Augustus and unhorsed 
 him, but had sufficient courtesy to at once throw him- 
 self off his own horse, as though he also had been cast 
 by the elector. This so gratified the latter, that he 
 sent old Schweinichen a gold chain, and a double 
 florin worth about 4 shillings to the young one. 
 
 When Hans was fifteen, he went to the marriage of 
 Duke Wenceslas of Teschen with the daughter of 
 Duke Franz of Saxony, and received from his father 
 a present of a sword, which, he tells us, cost his father 
 a little under a pound. One of the interesting 
 features of this diary is that Hans enters the value of 
 everything. For instance, we are given the price of 
 wheat, barley, rye, oats, meat, &c, in 1562, and we 
 I learn from this that all kinds of grain cost one fifth or 
 '■. one sixth of what it costs now, and that meat — 
 mutton, was one eighteenth or one twentieth the 
 present cost. For a thaler, 3 shillings, in 1562 as 
 
SCHWEINICHEN'S MEMOIRS. 71 
 
 / much food could be purchased as would now cost 
 from 25 to 30 shillings. Hans tells us what pocket 
 money he received from his parents; he put a value 
 on every present he was given, and tells what every- 
 thing cost him which he give away. 
 
 ^In the early spring of 1569 Duke Henry XL went to 
 Lublin in Poland to a diet. King Sigismund was 
 old, and the Duke hoped to get elected to the king- 
 dom of Poland on his death. This was a costly ex- 
 pedition, as the Duke had to make many presents, 
 and to go in great state. Hans went with him, and 
 gives an infinitely droll account of their reception, the 
 miserable housing, his own dress, one leg black, the 
 other yellow, and how many ells of ribbon went to 
 make the bows on his jacket. His father and he, and 
 a nobleman called Zedlitz and his son were put in a 
 garret under the tiles in bitter frost — and " faith," says 
 Hans, " our pigs at home are warmer in their styes." 
 
 This expedition which led to no such result as the 
 Duke hoped, exhausted his treasury, and exasperated 
 the Silesian Estates. All the nobles had to stand 
 surety for their Duke, Schweinichen and the rest to 
 the amount of — in modern money ;£ 100,000. 
 
 \When Hans was aged eighteen he was drunk for 
 the first time in his life, so drunk that he lay like a 
 dead man for two days and two nights, and his life 
 was in danger. 
 
 Portia characterised the German as a drunkard, she 
 liked him " very vilely in the morning, when he is 
 sober ; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is 
 drunk.\ Set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the con- 
 trary casket : for, if the devil be within, and that 
 
72 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do 
 anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge?' 
 *\ How true this characterisation was of the old Ger- 
 man noble, Schweinichen's memoirs show ; it is a 
 record of drunken bouts at small intervals. There 
 was no escape, he who would live at court must drink 
 and get drunken. 
 
 At the age of nineteen old Schweinichen made his 
 son keep the accounts at home, and look after the 
 mill ; he had the charge of the fish-ponds, and at- 
 tended to the thrashing of the corn, and the feeding 
 of the horses and cattle. 
 
 Once Hans was invited to a wedding, and met at it 
 
 four sisters from Glogau, two were widows and two 
 
 unmarried. Their maiden name was Von Schaben. 
 
 Hans, aged twenty, danced with the youngest a good 
 
 deal, and before leaving invited the four sisters to 
 
 pay his father and him a visit. A friend of his called 
 
 Eicholz galloped ahead to forewarn old Schweinichen. 
 
 Some hours later up drove Hans in- a waggon with 
 
 the four sisters ; but he did not dare to bring them in 
 
 till he had seen his father, so he went into the house, 
 
 and was at once saluted with a burst of laughter, and 
 
 the shout, ' ; Here comes the bridegroom," and Eicholz 
 
 sang at the top of his voice an improvised verse : 
 
 " Rosie von Schaben 
 Hans er will haben." 
 
 " Where are the ladies ? " asked the old knieht. 
 " In the waggon outside," answered Hans. 
 "Send for the fiddlers, bring them in. We will 
 eat, drink, dance and be merry," said the old man. 
 But Hans was offended at being boisterously saluted 
 
SCHWEINICHElSrS MEMOIRS. 73 
 
 as bridegroom, and he now kept Rosie at a distance. 
 Somewhat later, the Duke tried to get him to marry 
 a charming young heiress called Hese von Promnitz, 
 and very amusing is Hans' account of how he kept 
 himself clear of engagement. When he first met 
 her at court she was aged fourteen, and was passion- 
 ately fond of sugar. Hans says he spent as much as 
 /&3 in our modern money on sweets for her, but he 
 would make no proposal, because, as he concluded, 
 she was too young to be able " to cook a bowl of 
 soup." Two years passed, and then an old fellow 
 called Geisler, " looking more like a Jew than a 
 gentleman," who offered Hese a box of sweets every 
 day, proposed for her. Hese would not answer till 
 she knew the intentions of Hans, and she frankly 
 asked him whether he meant to propose for her hand 
 or not. " My heart's best love, Hese," answered 
 Schweinichen, " at the right time, and when God wills 
 I shall marry, but I do not think I can do that for 
 three years. So follow your own desires, take the 
 old Jew, or wait, as you like." 
 
 I Hese said she would wait any number of years for 
 Hans. This made Hans the colder. The Duke 
 determined that the matter should be settled one way 
 or other at once, so he sent a crown of gold roses to 
 Hans, and said it was to be Hese's bridal wreath, if he 
 desired that she should wear it for him, he was to lay 
 hold of it ; Hans thereupon put his hands behind his 
 back. Then he went to his Schweinichen coat-of- 
 arms and painted under it the motto, " I bide my 
 time, when the old man dies, I'll get the prize." 
 This Geisler read, and — says Hans, didn't like. 
 
74 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Hans was now installed as gentleman-in-waiting 
 to the Duke, and was henceforth always about his 
 person. He got for his service free bed and board, a 
 gala coat that cost in our modern money about £36, 
 and an every day livery costing ^"18. His father 
 made him a small allowance, but pay in addition to 
 liveries and keep he got none. The Duke's great 
 amusement consisted in mumming. For a whole 
 year he rambled about every evening in masquerade, 
 dropping in on the burghers unexpectedly. Some 
 were, we are told, pleased to see and entertain him, 
 others objected to these impromptu visits. The 
 special costume in which the Duke delighted to run 
 about the town making these visits was that of a 
 Nun. Hans admits that this was very distasteful to 
 him, but he could not help himself, he was obliged to 
 accommodate himself to the whims of his master. 
 He made an effort to free himself from the service of 
 the Duke, so as to go out of the country to some 
 other court — he felt intuitively that this association 
 would be fatal to his best interests, but the Duke at 
 once took him by his better side, pleaded with him to 
 remain and be faithful to him, his proper master and 
 sovereign, andHans with misgivings at heart consented. 
 
 There was at Court an old lady, Frau von Kittlitz, 
 who acted as stewardess, and exercised great influ- 
 ence over the Duke, whom she had known from a 
 boy. The Duchess resented her managing ways, and 
 interference, and was jealous of her influence. One 
 day in 1575 she refused to come down from her room 
 and dine with the Duke unless the old Kittlitz were 
 sent to sit at the table below the dais. This led to 
 
SCHWEINlCHElSrS MEMOIRS. 75 
 
 words and hot blood on both sides. The Duchess 
 used a gross expression in reference to the steward- 
 ess, and the Duke who had already some wine under 
 his belt, struck the Duchess in the face, saying, " I'll 
 teach you not to call people names they do not de- 
 serve." Hans, who was present, threw himself be- 
 tween the angry couple ; the Duke stormed and struck 
 about. Hans entreated the Duchess to retire, and 
 then he stood in her door and prevented the Duke 
 following, though he shouted, " She is my wife, I can 
 serve her as I like. Who are you to poke yourself in 
 between married folk ? " 
 
 i As soon as the Duchess had locked herself in, 
 Hans escaped and fled ; but an hour after the Duke 
 sent for him, and stormed at him again for his 
 meddlesomeness. Hans entreated the Duke to be 
 quiet and get reconciled to the Duchess, but he would 
 not hear of it, and dismissed Schweinichen. A 
 quarter of an hour later another messenger came 
 from his master, and Hans returned to him, to find 
 him in a better mood. "Hans," said his Highness, 
 '9 try if you can't get my wife to come round and 
 come down to table — all fun is at an end with this." 
 
 | Hans went up and was admitted. The Duchess, in 
 a towering rage, had already written a letter to her 
 brother the Margrave of Anspach, telling him how 
 her husband had struck her in the face and given her 
 a black eye, and she had already dispatched a mes- 
 senger with the letter. After much arguing, Hans 
 wrung from her her consent to come down, on two 
 conditions, one that the Duke should visit her at 
 once and beg her pardon, the other that the old 
 
76 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Kittlitz should sit at the table with the pages. The 
 Duke was now in a yielding mood and ate his leek 
 humbly. The Duchess consented to tell the Court 
 that she had got her black eye from striking her face 
 against a lamp, and the Duke ordered ten trumpeters 
 and a kettledrum to make all the noise they could to 
 celebrate the reconciliation. 
 
 \ The Duchess in an aside to Schweinichen admitted 
 that she had been rash and unjust, and regretted 
 having sent off that letter. An unlucky letter — says 
 our author — for it cost the duchy untold gold and 
 years of trouble. 
 
 The Duke had made several visits to Poland, 
 chasing that Jack o' lantern — the Polish crown, and it 
 had cost him so much money that he had quarrelled 
 with his Estates, bullied and oppressed his subjects 
 to extort money, and at last the Estates appealed to 
 the Emperor against him, as they had against his 
 father ; and the Emperor summoned him to Prague. 
 The Duke had great difficulty in scraping together 
 money enough to convey him so far ; and on reaching 
 Prague, he begged permission of the Kaiser to be 
 allowed to visit the Electors and the Free Cities, and see 
 whether he could not obtain from them some relief 
 from his embarrassments, and money wherewith to 
 pacify the angry Estates of the Silesian Duchy. The 
 consent required was given, and then the Duke with 
 his faithful Schweinichen, and several other retainers, 
 started on a grand begging and borrowing round of 
 the Empire. Hans was constituted treasurer, and he 
 had in his purse about ^400. The Duke took with 
 him five squires, two pages, three serving men, a 
 
SCHWEINICHEN 'S MEMOIRS. 77 
 
 cook, and several kitchen boys, one carriage drawn 
 by six horses, another by four. And not only was 
 this train to make the round of the Empire, but also 
 to visit Italy — and all on .£400. 
 
 The first visit was paid, three days' journey from 
 Prague, at Theusing to a half-sister of the Duchess. 
 She received him coolly, and lectured him on his 
 conduct to his wife. When the Duke asked her to 
 lend him money, she answered that she would pay 
 his expenses home, if he chose to go back to Liegnitz, 
 but not one penny otherwise should he have. Not 
 content with this refusal, the Duke went on to 
 Nurnberg, where he sent Hans to the town council 
 to invite them to lend him money; he asked for 4,000 
 florins. The council declined the honour. The two 
 •daughters of the Duke were in the charge of the 
 Margrave of Anspach, their mother's brother. The 
 Duke sent Hans to Anspach to urge the Margrave to 
 send the little girls to him, or invite him to visit 
 Anspach to see them. He was shy of visiting - 
 his brother-in-law uninvited, because of the box in 
 the ear and the black eye. He confided to Hans that if 
 he got his children at Nurnberg, he would not return 
 them to their uncle, without a loan or a honorarium. 
 
 This shabby transaction was not to Schweinichen's 
 taste, but he was obliged to undertake it. It proved 
 unsuccessful, the Margrave refused to give up the 
 children till the Duke returned to his wife and duchy 
 and set a better example. 
 
 \ Whilst Hans was away, the Duke won a large sum 
 of money at play, enough to pay his own bill, but 
 instead of doing this with it, he had it melted up and 
 
78 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 made into silver cups. When he came to leave 
 Nurnberg he was unable to pay his inn bill, and obliged 
 to leave in pawn with the taverner a valuable jewel. 
 Then he and his suite went to Augsburg and settled 
 into an inn till the town council could agree to lend 
 him money. 
 
 One day, whilst there, Hans was invited to a 
 wedding. The Duke wanted to go also, but, as he 
 was not invited, he went as Hans' servant, but got so 
 drunk that Hans was obliged to carry him home to 
 the tavern, after which he returned to the wedding. 
 In the evening, when dancing began, the Duke re- 
 appeared, he had slept off his drunkenness and was 
 fresh for more entertainment. He was now recog- 
 nized, and according to etiquette, two town coun- 
 cillors, in robes of office and gold chains, danced 
 solemnly before his Highness. Hans tells us that it 
 was customary for all dances to be led by two 
 persons habited in scarlet with white sleeves, and 
 these called the dance and set the figures, no one 
 might execute any figure or do anything which had 
 not been done by the leaders. Now as Hans vows 
 he never saw so many pretty girls anywhere as on 
 that evening, he tipped the leaders with half a thaler 
 to kiss each other, whereupon the two solemn dancing 
 councillors had also to kiss each other, and the Duke, 
 nothing loth, his partner, and Hans, with zest, his. 
 That evening he gave plenty of kisses, and what with 
 the many lights, and the music and the dancing and 
 the pretty girls he thought himself in Paradise. 
 Shortly after this, the Duke was invited to dine with 
 Fugger, the merchant prince, who showed him his 
 
SCHWEINICHEN'S MEMOIRS. 79 
 
 treasury, gold to the worth of a million, and one 
 tower lined within from top half way down with 
 nothing but silver thalers. The Duke's mouth 
 watered, and he graciously invited Fugger to lend 
 him ^"5,000 ; this the merchant declined, but made 
 him a present of 200 crowns and a good horse. The 
 town council consented to lend the Duke .£1,200 on 
 his I.O.U. for a year ; and then to pay his host he 
 melted up his silver mugs again, pawned his plate 
 and gave him a promissory note for two months. 
 
 From Augsburg the Duke went about the abbeys, 
 trying to squeeze loans out of the abbots, but found 
 that they had always the excuse ready, that they 
 would not lend to Lutheran princes. Then he stuck 
 on in the abbeys, eating up all their provisions and 
 rioting in their guest-apartments, till the abbots were 
 fain to make him a present to be rid of him. 
 
 All at once an opening offered for the Duke to gain 
 both renown and money. Henry I. of Conde was at 
 the court of the Elector Palatine at Heidelsberg,. 
 soliciting assistance in behalf of the Huguenots 
 against the King of France. The Elector agreed to 
 send a force under his son John Casimir, and the 
 Duke of Liegnitz offered his services, which were 
 readily accepted. He was to lead the rearguard, and 
 to receive a liberal pay for his services. Whilst he- 
 was collecting this force and getting underway, John 
 Casimir and the Prince of Conde marched through 
 Lorraine to Metz, and Hans went with John Casimir. 
 He trusted he was now on his way to fortune. But it 
 was not so to be. The Duke, his master, insisted that 
 he should return to him, and Hans, on doing so, found. 
 
So historic oddities. 
 
 him rioting and gambling away, at Frankfort and 
 Nassau, the money paid him in advance for his useless 
 services. Almost the first duty imposed on Hans, on 
 his return, was to negociate a loan for ^5,000 with the 
 magistrates of Frankfort, which was peremptorily re- 
 fused; whereupon the Duke went to Cologne and 
 stayed there seven months, endeavouring to cajole 
 the town council there into advancing him money. 
 
 But we can not follow any further the miserable 
 story of the degradation of the Silesian Duke, till at 
 the beginning of the new year, 1577, the Duke ran away 
 from the town of Emmerich, leaving his servants to pay 
 his debts as best they could. Hans sold the horses 
 and whatever was left, and then, not sorry to be quit of 
 such a master, returned on foot to his Silesian home. 
 
 It is, perhaps, worth while quoting Duke Henry's 
 letter, which Hans found in the morning announcing 
 his master's evasion. 
 
 " Dear Hans, — Here is a chain, do what you can with it. 
 Weigh it and sell it, also the horses for ready money ; I will not 
 pillow my head in feathers till, by God's help, I have got some 
 money, to enable me to clear out of this vile land, and away 
 from these people. Good morning, best-loved Hans. 
 
 "With mine own hand, Henry, Duke." 
 
 ; As he neared home, sad news reached Hans. The 
 Ducal creditors had come down on his father, who had 
 made himself responsible, and had seized the family 
 estates ; whereat the old man's heart broke, and 
 he had died in January. When Hans heard this, he 
 sat for two hours on a stone beside the road, utterly 
 unmanned, before he could recover himself sufficiently 
 to pursue his journey. 
 
SCHWEINICHEN'S MEMOIRS. 81 
 
 In the meantime an Imperial commission had sat 
 on the Duke, deposed him, and appointed his brother 
 Frederick duke in his room. Schweinichen's fidelity 
 to Duke Henry ensured his disfavour with Duke 
 Frederick, and he was not summoned to court, but was 
 left quietly at Mertschlitz to do his best along with his 
 brother to bring the family affairs into some sort of 
 order. His old master did not, however, allow him 
 much rest. By the Imperial decision, he was to be 
 provided with a daily allowance of money, food 
 and wine. This drew Duke Henry home, and no 
 sooner was he back in Silesia than he insisted on Hans 
 returning to his service, and for some years more he 
 led the faithful soul a troubled life, and involved him 
 in miserable pecuniary perplexities. This was the 
 more trying to Hans as he had now fallen in love with 
 Margaret von Schellendorff, whom he married eventu- 
 ally. The tenderness and goodness of Schweinichen's 
 heart break out whenever he speaks of his dear Mar- 
 garetta, and of the children which came and were 
 taken from him. His sorrows as he lingered over the 
 sick-beds of his little ones, and the closeness with 
 which he was drawn by domestic bereavements and 
 pecuniary distresses, to his Margaretta, come out 
 clearly in his narrative. The whole story is far too 
 long to tell in its entirety. Hans was a voluminous 
 diarist. His memoirs cease at the year 1602, when 
 he was suffering from gout, but he lived on some years 
 longer. 
 
 In the church of S. John at Liegnitz was at one 
 time his monument, with life-sized figure of Hans von 
 Schweinichen,and aboveit his bannerand aninscription 
 
S2 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 stating that he died on the 23rd Aug., 1616. Alas I 
 the hand of the destroyer has been there. The church 
 and monument are destroyed, and we can no longer 
 see what manner of face Hans wore ; but of the inner 
 man, of a good, faithful, God fearing, and loving soul,, 
 strong and true, he has himself left us the most 
 accurate portrait in his precious memoirs. 
 
Zhc Xocfcsmttb (Samain, 
 
 AMONG the many episodes of the French Revolution 
 there is one which deserves to be somewhat closely 
 examined, because of the gravity of the accusation 
 which it involves against the King and Queen, and 
 because a good deal of controversy has raged round 
 it. The episode is that of the locksmith Gamain,. 
 whom the King and Queen are charged with having - 
 attempted to poison. 
 
 That the accusation was believed during " the 
 Terror " goes without saying ; the heated heads and 
 angry hearts at that time were in no condition to sift 
 evidence with impartiality. Afterwards, the charge 
 was regarded as preposterous, till the late M. Paul 
 Lacroix — better known as le Bibliophile Jacob — a 
 student of history, very careful and diligent as a col- 
 lector, gave it a new spell of life in 1836, when he 
 reformulated the accusation in a fetiilleton of the 
 Siecle. Not content to let it sleep or die in the 
 ephemeral pages of a newspaper, he republished the 
 whole story in 1838, in his "Dissertations sur quelques 
 points curieux de l'histoire de France." This he 
 again reproduced in his " Curiosites de l'histoire de 
 France," in 1858. M. Louis -Blanc, convinced that 
 the case was made out, has reasserted the charge in 
 his work on the French Revolution, and it has since 
 been accepted by popular writers — as Ddcembre- 
 
S 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Alonnier — who seek to justify the execution of the 
 King and Queen, and to glorify the Revolution. 
 
 M. Thiers rejected the accusation ; M. Eckard 
 pointed out the improbabilities in the story in the 
 " Biographie Universelle," and M. Mortimer-Ternaux 
 has also shown its falsity in his " Histoire de la Ter- 
 reur ;" and finally, M. Le Roy, librarian of Versailles, 
 in 1867, devoted his special attention to it, and com- 
 pletely disproved the poisoning of Gamain. But in 
 spite of disproval the slanderous accusation does not 
 die, and no doubt is still largely believed in Paris. 
 
 So tenacious of life is a lie- — like the bacteria that 
 can be steeped in sulphuric acid without destroying 
 their vitality — that the story has been again recently 
 raked up, and given to the public, from Lacroix, in a 
 number of the Cornhill Magazine (December, 1887) ; 
 the writer of course knew only Lacroix' myth, and 
 had never seen how it had been disproved. It is well 
 now to review the whole story. 
 
 Francois Gamain was born at Versailles on August 
 29, 175 1. He belonged to an hereditary locksmith 
 family. His father Nicolas had been in the same 
 trade, and had charge of the locks in the royal palaces 
 in Versailles and elsewhere. 
 
 The love of Louis XVI. for mechanical works is 
 well known. He had a little workshop at Versailles, 
 where he amused himself making locks, assisted by 
 Francois Gamain, to whom he was much attached, 
 and with whom he spent many hours in projecting 
 and executing mechanical contrivances. The story 
 is told of the Intendant Thierry, that when one day 
 the King showed him a lock he had made, he replied, 
 
THE LOCKSMITH G AMAIN. 85 
 
 '\Sire, when kings occupy themselves with the works 
 of the common people, the common people will assume 
 the functions of kings," but the mot was probably 
 made after the fact. 
 
 After the terrible days of the 5th and 6th of Oc- 
 tober, 1789, the King was brought to Paris. Gamain 
 remained at Versailles, which was his home, and re- 
 tained the King's full confidence. 
 
 When, later, the King was surrounded by enemies, 
 and he felt the necessity for having some secret place 
 where he could conceal papers of importance which 
 might yet fall into the hands of the rabble if the 
 palace was again invaded, as it had been at Versailles, 
 he sent for Gamain to make for him an iron chest in 
 a place of concealment, that could only be opened by 
 one knowing the secret of the lock. 
 
 Unfortunately, the man was not as trustworthy as 
 Louis XVI. supposed. Surrounded by those who 
 had adopted the principles of the Revolution, and 
 being a man without strong mind, he followed the 
 current, and in 1792 he was nominated member of 
 the Council General of the Commune of Versailles, 
 and on September 24 he was one of the commissioners 
 appointed /to cause to disappear all such paintings, 
 sculptures, and inscriptions from the monuments of 
 the Commune as might serve to recall royalty and 
 despotism." 
 
 The records of the debates of the Communal 
 Council show that Gamain attended regularly and 
 took part in the discussions, which were often tumul- 
 tuous. 
 
 The Queen heard of Gamain's Jacobinism, and 
 
86 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 warned the King, who, however, could not believe 
 that Gamain would betray him. Marie Antoinette 
 insisted on the most important papers being removed 
 from the iron chest, and they were confided to Mme. 
 de Campan. 
 
 When the trial of the King was begun, on Novem- 
 ber 20, Gamain went to Roland, Minister of the In- 
 terior, and told him the secret of the iron chest. 
 Roland, alarmed at the consequences of such a dis- 
 covery, hastened to consult his \wife, who was in 
 reality more minister than himself. 
 
 From August 10, a commission had been appointed 
 to collect all the papers found in the Tuileries ; this 
 commission, therefore, ought to be made acquainted 
 with the discovery ; but here lay the danger. Mme. 
 Roland, as an instrument of the Girondins, feared 
 that among the papers in the chest might be dis- 
 covered some which would show in what close rela- 
 tions the Girondins stood to the Court. She decided 
 that her husband should go to the Tuileries, accom- 
 panied by Gamain, an architect, and a servant. The 
 chest was opened by the locksmith, Roland removed 
 all the papers, tied them up in a napkin, and took 
 them home. They were taken the same day to the 
 Convention ; and the commission charged the minister 
 with having abstracted such papers as would have 
 been inconvenient to him to deliver up. 
 
 When Roland surrendered the papers he declared, 
 without naming Gamain, that they had been dis- 
 covered in a hole in the wall closed by an iron door, 
 behind a wainscot panel, in so secret a place " that 
 they could not have been found had not the secret 
 
THE LOCKSMITH GAM A IN. 87 
 
 been disclosed by the workman who had himself 
 made the place of concealment." 
 
 On December 24 following, Gamairi was summoned 
 to Paris by the Convention to give his evidence to 
 prove that a key discovered in the desk of Thierry 
 •de Ville-d'Avray fitted the iron chest. 
 \ After the execution of the King, on January 21, 
 1793, the Convention sent deputies into all the de- 
 partments " to stimulate the authorities to act with 
 the energy requisite under the circumstances/' Cras- 
 sous was sent into the department of Seine-et-Oise ; 
 and not finding the municipality of Versailles, of 
 which Gamain was a member, " up to the requisite 
 pitch," he discharged them from office ; and by a law 
 of September 17, all such discharged functionaries 
 were declared to be " suspected persons," who were 
 liable to be brought before the revolutionary tribunal 
 on that charge alone. 
 
 Thus, in spite of all the proofs he had given of his 
 fidelity to the principles of the Revolution, Gamain 
 was at any moment liable to arrest, and to being 
 brought before that terrible tribunal from which the 
 only exit was to the guillotine. Moreover, Gamain 
 had lost his place and emoluments as Court lock- 
 smith ; he had fallen into great poverty, was without 
 work, and without health. 
 
 On April 27, 1794, he presented a petition to the 
 Convention which was supported by Musset, the de- 
 puty and constitutional cure. " It was not enough," 
 said Musset from the tribune, " that the last of our 
 tyrants should have delivered over thousands of 
 citizens to be slain by the sword of the enemy. You 
 
88 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 will see by the petition I am about to read that he 
 was familiarised with the most refined cruelty, and 
 that he himself administered poison to the father of a 
 family, in the hopes thereby of destroying evidence of 
 his perfidy. You will see that his ferocious mind had 
 adopted the maxim that to a king everything is per- 
 missible." 
 
 After this preamble Musset read the petition of 
 Gamain, which is as follows : " Francois Gamain, 
 locksmith to the cabinets and to the laboratory of the 
 late King, and for three years member of the 
 Council General of the Commune of Versailles, 
 declares that at the beginning of May 1792 he was 
 ordered to go to Paris. On reaching it, Capet re- 
 quired him to make a cupboard in the thickness of 
 one of the walls of his room, and to fasten it with an 
 iron door ; and he further states that he was thus 
 engaged up to the 22nd of the said month, and that 
 he worked in the King's presence. When the chest 
 was completed, Capet himself offered citizen Gamain 
 a large tumbler of wine, and asked him to drink it, as 
 he, the said Gamain, was very hot. 
 
 " A few hours later he was attacked by a violent 
 colic, which did not abate till he had taken two 
 spoonfuls of elixir, which made him vomit all he had 
 eaten and drunk that day. This was the prelude to a 
 terrible illness, which lasted fourteen months, during 
 which he lost the use of his limbs, and which has left 
 him at present without hope of recovering his full 
 health, and of working so as to provide for the 
 necessities of his family." 
 
 After reading the petition Musset added : " I hold 
 
THE LOCKSMITH G AMAIN. 89 
 
 in my hands the certificate of the doctors, that testifies 
 to the bad state of the health of the citizen peti- 
 tioner. 
 
 " Citizens ! If wickedness is common to kings, 
 generosity is the prerogative of the free people. I 
 demand that this petition be referred to the Com- 
 mittee of Public Assistance to be promptly dealt with. 
 I demand that after the request all the papers relating 
 to it be deposed in the national archives, as a monu- 
 ment of the atrocity of tyrants, and be inserted in the 
 bulletin, that all those who have supposed that Capet 
 did evil only at the instigation of others may know 
 that crime was rooted in his very heart." This pro- 
 position was decreed. On May 17, 1794, the repre- 
 sentative Peyssard mounted the tribune, and read the 
 report of the Committee, which we must condense. 
 
 " Citizens ! At the tribunal of liberty the crimes of 
 the oppressors of the human race stand to be judged. 
 To paint a king in all his hideousness I need name 
 only Louis XVI. This name sums in itself all crimes ; 
 it recalls a prodigy of iniquity and of perfidy. 
 Hardly escaped from infancy, the germs of the fero- 
 cious perversity which characterise a despot appeared 
 in him. His earliest sports were with blood, and his 
 brutality grew with his years, and he delighted in 
 wreaking his ferocity on all the animals he met. He 
 was known to be cruel, treacherous, and murderous. 
 The object of this report is to exhibit him to 
 France cold-bloodedly offering a cup of poison to 
 the unhappy artist whom he had just employed to 
 construct a cupboard in which to conceal the plots of 
 tyranny. It was no stranger he marked as his victim, 
 
93 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 but a workman whom he had employed for five-ar.d- 
 twenty years, and the father of a family, his own in- 
 structor in the locksmith's art. Monsters who thus 
 treat their chosen servants, how will they deal with 
 the rest of men ? " 
 
 The National Convention thereupon ordered that 
 " Francois Gamain, poisoned by Louis Capet on May 
 22, 1792, should enjoy an annual pension of the sum 
 of 1,200 livres, dating from the day on which he was 
 poisoned." 
 
 v It will be noticed by the most careless reader that 
 the evidence is nil. Gamain does not feel the colic 
 till some hours after he has drunk the wine ; he had 
 eaten or drunk other things besides during the day ; 
 and finally the testimony of the doctors is, not that he 
 was poisoned, but that, at the time of his presenting 
 the petition, he was in a bad state of health. Accord- 
 ingly, all reasonable historians, unblinded by party 
 passion, have scouted the idea of an attempt on 
 Gamain's life by the King. Thus the matter would 
 have remained had not M. Paul Lacroix taken it up 
 and propped the old slander on new legs. We will 
 take his account, which he pretends to have received 
 from several persons to whom Gamain related it re- 
 peatedly. This is his mise en scene. 
 
 V" The old inhabitants of Versailles will remember 
 with pity the man whom they often encountered alone, 
 bowed on his stick like one bent with years. Gamain 
 was aged only fifty-eight when he died, but he bore 
 all the marks of decrepitude." 
 
 Here is a blunder, to begin with ; he died, as the 
 Versailles registers testify, 01 May 8, 1795, and was 
 
THE LOCKSMITH GAM A IN. 
 
 9i 
 
 accordingly only forty-four years old, — that is, he 
 died one year after the grant of the annuity. M. Par- 
 rott, in his article on Gamain in the " Dictionnaire de 
 la Revolution Francaise," says that he died in 1799, 
 five years after having received his pension ; but the 
 Versailles registers- are explicit. 
 
 \ M. Lacroix goes on : " His hair had fallen off, and 
 the little that remained had turned white over a brow 
 furrowed deeply : the loss of his teeth made his 
 cheeks hollow ; his dull eyes only glared with sombre 
 fire when the name of Louis XVI. was pronounced. 
 Sometimes even tears then filled them. Gamain 
 lived very quietly with his family on his humble 
 pension, which, notwithstanding the many changes of 
 government, was always accorded him. It was not 
 suppressed, lest the reason of its being granted should 
 again be raked up before the public." 
 
 As we have seen, Gamain died under the Govern- 
 ment which granted the pension. M. Lacroix goes 
 ■on to say " that the old locksmith bore to his dying 
 day an implacable hatred of Louis XVI., whom he 
 accused of having been guilty of an abominable act 
 of treachery." 
 
 " This act of treachery was the fixed and sole idea 
 in Gamain's head, he recurred to it incessantly, and 
 poured forth a flood of bitter and savage recrimina- 
 tions against the King. It was Gamain who dis- 
 closed the secret of the iron chest in the Tuileries, 
 and the papers it contained, which furnished the, 
 •chief accusation against Louis XVI.; it was he, there- 
 fore, who had, so to speak, prepared the guillotine for 
 the royal head ; it was he, finally, who provoked the 
 
92 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 decree of the Convention which blackened the 
 memory of the King as that of a vulgar murderer. 
 But this did not suffice the hate of Gamain, who went 
 about everywhere pursuing the dead beyond the 
 tomb, with his charge of having attempted murder as 
 payment of life-long and devoted service. Gamain 
 ordinarily passed his evenings in a cafe at Versailles, 
 the name of which I have been told, but which I do 
 not divulge lest I should make a mistake. He was 
 generally in the society of two old notaries, who are 
 still alive (in 1836), and of the doctor Lameyran, who 
 attended him when he was poisoned. These three 
 persons were prepared to attest all the particulars of 
 the poisoning which had been proved at the flroees 
 ■verbal. Gamain, indeed, lacked witnesses to establish 
 the incidents of the 22nd May, 1792, at the Tuileries; 
 but his air of veracity and expression of pain, his 
 accent of conviction, his face full of suffering, his 
 burning eyes, his pathetic pantomime, were the guar- 
 antees of good faith." 
 
 These three men, the notaries and the doctor, which 
 latter M. Lacroix hints was living when he wrote, were 
 his authorities for what follows. The notaries he does 
 not name, nor the cafe where they met. His account 
 published in the Steele at once attracted attention, and 
 M. Lacroix was challenged to produce his witnesses. 
 As for M. Lameyran, the doctor, he had died in 181 1 ; 
 consequently his testimony was not to be had in 1836. 
 The other doctor who had attended Gamain was M. 
 Voisin, who died in 1823, but M. Le Roy asserts 
 positively that in 181 3 M. Voisin told him, "Never 
 was Gamain poisoned. Lameyran and I had long 
 
THE LOCKSMITH GAM A IN. 93 
 
 attended him for chronic malady of the stomach. 
 This is all we testified to in our certificate, when he 
 applied for a pension. In our certificate we stated 
 that he was in weak health — not a word was in it 
 about poisoning, which existed only in his fancy." 
 
 These certificates are no longer in existence. They 
 were not preserved in the archives of the Convention. 
 Even this fact is taken as evidence in favour of the 
 attempt. M. Emile Bonnet, in an article on Gamain 
 in the " Intermediate des Chercheurs," declares that 
 they have been substracted since the Restoration of 
 Charles ; x but there is no trace in the archives of them 
 ever having been there. Moreover, we have M. Le 
 Roy's word that M. Voisin assured him he had not 
 testified to poisoning, and, what is more important, 
 we have Musset's declaration before the Convention 
 that the certificate of the doctors "asserted the ill- 
 health of the claimant." If there had been a word 
 about poison in it, he would assuredly have said so. 
 
 M. Lacroix was asked to name his authorities — the 
 two advocates who, as M. Lameyran was dead, were 
 alive and would testify to the fact that they had heard 
 the story from the lips of Gamain. He remained 
 silent. He would not even name the cafe where they 
 met, and which might lead to the identification. M. 
 Eckard, who wrote the notice on Gamain in the 
 " Biographie Universelle," consulted the family of the 
 locksmith on the case, and was assured by them that 
 the bad health of Gamain was due to no other cause 
 than disappointment at the loss of his fortune, the 
 
 1 Le Bibliophile Jacob says the same : " Les — pieces — 16- 
 tournees maladroitement par la Restauration." 
 
94 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 privations he underwent, and, above all, his terror for 
 his life after his dismissal from the Communal Council. 
 
 We will now continue M. Lacroix's account, which 
 he proceeds, not a little disingenuously, to put into 
 the mouth of Gamain himself, so that the accusation 
 may not be charged on the author. 
 
 \" On May 21, 1792," says Gamain, according to the 
 " Bibliophile Jacob," " whilst I was working in my 
 shop, a horseman drew up at my door and called me 
 out. His disguise as a carter did not prevent me 
 from recognising Durey, the King's forge assistant. 
 I refused. I congratulated myself that evening at 
 having done so, as the rumour spread in Versailles 
 that the Tuileries had been attacked by the mob, but 
 this did not really take place till a month later. 
 Next morning Durey returned and showed me a note 
 in the King's own hand, entreating me to lend my 
 assistance in a difficult job past his unaided powers. 
 My pride was flattered. I embraced my wife and 
 children, without telling them whither I was going, 
 but I promised to return that night. It was not 
 without anxiety that they saw me depart with a 
 stranger for Paris." 
 
 We need merely point out that Durey was. no 
 stranger to the family : he had been for years associ- 
 ated daily with Gamain. 
 
 \ " Durey conducted me to the Tuileries, where the 
 King was guarded as in a prison. We went at once 
 to the royal workshop, where Durey left me, whilst he 
 went to announce my arrival. Whilst I was alone, I 
 observed an iron door, recently forged, a mortise lock, 
 well executed, and a little iron box with a secret 
 
THE LOCKSMITH G AMAIN. 95 
 
 spring which I did not at once discover. Then in 
 came Durey with the King. ' The times are bad,' 
 said Louis XVI., ' and I do not know how matters 
 will end.' Then he showed me the works I had 
 noticed, and said, ' What do you say to my skill ? It 
 took me ten days to execute these things. I am your 
 apprentice, Gamain.' I protested my entire devotion. 
 Then the King assured me that he always had confi- 
 dence in me, and that he did not scruple to trust the 
 fate of himself and his family in my hands. There- 
 upon he conducted me into the dark passage that led 
 from his room to the chamber of the Dauphin. 
 Durey lit a taper, and removed a panel in the passage, 
 behind which I perceived a round hole, about two 
 feet in diameter, bored in the wall. The King told 
 me he intended to secrete his money in it, and that 
 Durey, who had helped to make it, threw the dust 
 and chips into the river during the night. Then the 
 King told me that he was unable to fit the iron door 
 to the hole unassisted. I went to work immediately. 
 I went over all the parts of the lock, and got them 
 into working order ; then I fashioned a key to the lock, 
 then made hinges and fastened them into the wall as 
 firmly as I could, without letting the hammering be 
 heard. The King helped as well as he was able, 
 entreating me every moment to strike with less noise, 
 and to be quicker over my work. The key was put 
 in the little iron casket, and this casket was concealed 
 under a slab of pavement in the corridor." 
 
 It will be seen that this story does not agree with 
 the account in the petition made by Gamain to the 
 Convention. In that he said he was summoned to 
 
96 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Paris at the beginning of the month of May, and that 
 'Capet ordered him to make a cupboard in the thick- 
 ness of the wall of his apartment, and to close it with 
 an iron door, the whole of which was not accomplished 
 till the 22nd of the same month." He was three 
 weeks over the job, not a few hours. " I had been 
 working," continues Gamain, or M. Lacroix for him, 
 "for eight consecutive hours. The sweat poured from 
 my brow ; I was impatient to repose, and faint with 
 hunger, as I had eaten nothing since I got up." 
 
 But, according to his account before the Conven- 
 tion, the elixir made him throw up " all he had eaten 
 and drunk during the day." 
 
 \" I seated myself a moment in the King's chamber, 
 and he asked me to count for him two thousand 
 double louis and tie them up in four leather bags. 
 Whilst so doing I observed that Durey was carrying 
 some bundles of papers which I conjectured were 
 destined for the secret closet; and, indeed, the money- 
 counting was designed to distract my attention from 
 what Durey was about." 
 
 What a clumsy story ! Why were not the papers 
 hidden after Gamain was gone ? Was it necessary 
 that this should be done in his presence, and he 
 set to count money, so as not to observe what was 
 going on ? 
 -v" As I was about to leave, the Queen suddenly 
 entered by a masked door at the foot of the King's 
 bed, holding in her hands a plate, in which was a 
 cake (brioche) and a glass of wine. She came up to 
 me, and I saluted her with surprise, because the King 
 had assured me that she knew nothing about th'3 
 
THE LOCKSMITH GAMAIN. 97 
 
 fabrication of the chest. ' My dear Gamain,' said she 
 in a caressing tone, ' how hot you are ! Drink this 
 tumbler of wine and eat this cake, and they will 
 sustain you on your journey home.' I thanked her, 
 confounded by this consideration for a poor workman, 
 and I emptied the tumbler to her health. I put the 
 cake in my pocket, intending to take it home to my 
 children." 
 
 Here again is a discrepancy. In his petition 
 Gamain says that the King gave him a glass of wine, 
 and makes no mention of the Queen. 
 
 On leaving the Tuileries, Gamain set out on foot 
 for Versailles, but was attacked by a violent colic in 
 the Champs Elysees. His agonies increased ; he was 
 no longer able to walk ; he fell, and rolled on the 
 ground, uttering cries and moans. A carriage that 
 was passing stopped, and an English gentleman got 
 out — wonderful to relate! — extraordinary coincidence! 
 — a physician, and an acquaintance. 
 rx " The Englishman took me to his carriage, and 
 'ordered the coachman to drive at full gallop to an 
 apothecary's shop. The conveyance halted at last 
 before one in the Rue de Bac ; the Englishman left 
 me alone, whilst he prepared an elixir which might 
 counteract the withering power of the poison. When 
 I had swallowed this draught I ejected the venomous 
 substances. An hour later nothing could have saved 
 me. I recovered in part my sight and hearing ; the 
 cold that circulated in my veins was dissipated by 
 degrees, and the Englishman judged that I might be 
 safely removed to Versailles, which we reached at 
 two o'clock in the morning. A physician, M. de 
 
98 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Lameyran, and a surgeon, M. Voisin, were called in \ 
 they recognised the unequivocal tokens of poison. 
 
 " After three days of fever, delirium, and inconceiv- 
 able suffering, I triumphed over the poison, but 
 suffered ever after from a paralysis almost complete,, 
 and a general inflammation of the digestive organs. 
 /n " A few days after this catastrophe the servant 
 maid, whilst cleaning my coat, which I had worn on 
 the occasion of my accident, found my handkerchief,, 
 stained black, and the cake. She took a bite of the 
 latter, and threw the rest into the yard, where a dog 
 ate it and died. The girl, who had consumed only a 
 morsel of the cake, fell dangerously ill. The dog was 
 opened by M. Voisin, and a chemical analysis dis- 
 closed the presence of poison, both on my kerchief 
 stained by my vomit, and in the cake. The cake 
 alone contained enough corrosive sublimate to kill ten 
 persons." 
 
 So — the poison was found. But how is it that in 
 Gamain's petition none of this occurs? According to> 
 that document, Gamain was offered a goblet of wine 
 by the King himself. "A few hours later he was. 
 attacked by a violent colic. This was the prelude to 
 a terrible illness." Only a vague hint as to poison„ 
 no specific statement that he had been poisoned, and 
 that the kind of poison had been determined. 
 
 Now, corrosive sublimate, when put in red wine,, 
 forms a violet precipitate, and alters the taste of the 
 wine, giving it a characteristic metallic, harsh flavour, 
 so disagreeable that it insures its immediate rejection. 
 Gamain tasted nothing. Again, the action of corro- 
 sive sublimate is immediate or very nearly so ; but 
 
THE LOCKSMITH GAMAIN. 99 
 
 Gamain was not affected till several hours after hav- 
 ing drunk the wine. 
 
 According to the petition, Gamain asserted that he 
 was paralysed in all his limbs for fourteen months, 
 from May 22, 1792 ; but the Communal registers of 
 Versailles show that he attended a session of the 
 Council and took part in the discussion on June 4 
 following, that is, less than a fortnight after ; that he 
 was present at the sessions of June 8, 17, 20, and on 
 August 22, and that he was sufficiently hearty and 
 active to be elected on the commission which was to 
 obliterate the insignia of monarchy on September 
 24 following, which certainly would not have been 
 the case had he been a sick man paralysed in all his 
 members. 
 
 ^VVhy, we may further inquire, did not Louis the 
 XVI. or Queen Marie Antoinette attempt to poison 
 Durey also, if they desired to make away with all 
 those who knew the secret of the iron locker ? 
 
 Now, Durey was alive in 1800, and Eckard, who 
 wrote the article on Gamain in the " Biographie 
 Universelle," knew him and saw him at that date, 
 and Durey told him that Gamain's story was a lie ; 
 the iron safe was made, not in 1792, but in May, 1791 ; 
 and this is probable, as it would have been easier for 
 the King to have the locker made before his escape 
 to Varennes, than in 1792, when he was under the 
 closest supervision. 
 
 According to the version attributed to Gamain by 
 M. Paul Lacroix, Gamain was paralysed for five 
 months only. Why this change ? Because either M. 
 Lacroix or the locksmith had discovered that it was 
 
ioo HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 an anachronism for him to appear in November before 
 Roland, and assist him in opening the case which he 
 had made in May — five months before, and afterwards 
 to declare that he was paralysed in all his members 
 from May till the year following. We think this 
 correction is due to the Bibliophile. But he was not 
 acquainted with the Versailles archives proving him 
 to have been at a session a few days after the pre- 
 tended poisoning. 
 
 There is not much difficulty in discovering Gamain's 
 motive for formulating the accusation against the 
 King. He betrayed his king, who trusted him, and 
 then, to excuse his meanness, invented an odious 
 calumny against him. 
 
 ! But what was M. Lacroix's object in revivifying the 
 base charge? We are not sure that he comes cleaner 
 out of the slough than the despicable locksmith. He 
 gave the story a new spell of life ; he based his 
 " facts " on testimonies, who, he said, were ready at 
 any moment to vouch for the truth. When challenged 
 to produce them he would not do so. His " facts " 
 were proved again and again to be fables, and yet he 
 dared to republish his slanderous story again and 
 again, without a word of apology, explanation, or re- 
 tractation. M. Lacroix died only a year or two ago, and 
 it may seem ungenerous to attack a dead man, but one 
 is forced to do this in defence of the honour of a dead 
 Queen whom he grossly calumniated. The calumny 
 was ingeniously put. M. Lacroix set it in the mouth of 
 Gamain, thinking thereby to free himself from respon- 
 sibility, but the responsibility sticks when he refuses 
 to withdraw what has been demonstrated to be false. 
 
THE LOCKSMITH GAMAIN. 101 
 
 \There is something offensive to the last degree in 
 the pose of M. Lacroix as he opens his charge. " For 
 some years I have kept by me, with a sort of terror, 
 the materials for an historic revelation, without ven- 
 turing to use them, and yet the fact, now almost un- 
 known, on which I purpose casting a sinister light, is 
 one that has been the object of my most active pre- 
 occupations. For long I condemned myself to silence 
 and to fresh research, hitherto fruitless, hoping that 
 
 the truth would come to light Well ! now, at 
 
 the moment of lifting the veil which covers a half- 
 effaced page of history, with the documents I have 
 consulted and the evidence I have gleaned lying be- 
 fore me, surrounded by a crowd of witnesses, one 
 sustaining the testimony of the other, relying on my 
 conscience and on my sentiments as a man of honour 
 — still I hesitate to open my mouth and call up the 
 remembrance of an event monstrous in itself, that has 
 not found an echo even in the writings of the blindest 
 partisans of a hideous epoch. Yes, I feel a certain 
 repugnance in seeming to associate in thought, though 
 not in act, with the enemies of Louis XVI. I have 
 just re-read the sublime death of this unhappy poli- 
 tical martyr ; I have felt my eyes moisten with tears 
 at the contemplation of the picture of the death in- 
 flicted by an inexorable state necessity, and I felt I 
 must break my pen lest I should mix my ink with 
 the yet warm blood of the innocent victim. Let my 
 hand wither rather than rob Louis XVI. of the mantle 
 of probity and goodness, which the outrages of '93 
 succeeded neither in staining nor in rending to rags." 
 And so on — M. Lacroix is only acting under a high 
 
102 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 sense of the sacred duty of seeking the truth, " of 
 forcing the disclosure of facts, before it be too late," 
 which may establish the innocence of Louis XVI. 
 Now, be it noted that M. Lacroix is the first to accuse 
 the Queen of attempting the murder ; his assault is 
 on her as much as, more than, on the poor King — in 
 the sacred interests of historic truth ! 
 N What are his evidences, his crowd of witnesses, his 
 documents that he has collected ? What proof is 
 there of his active preoccupations and fresh researches? 
 He produced nothing that can be called proof, and 
 refused the names of his witnesses when asked for 
 them. We can quite understand that the Bibliophile 
 Jacob may have heard some gossiping story such as 
 he narrates, and may have believed it when he wrote 
 the story ; but then, where are the high sense of 
 honour, the tender conscience, the enthusiasm for 
 truth, when his story is proved to be a tissue of im- 
 probabilities and impossibilities, that permit him to 
 republish, and again republish at intervals of years, 
 this cruel and calumnious fabrication ? 
 
Hbram tbe insurer. 1 
 
 In the reign of Heraclius, when Sergius was patri- 
 arch of Constantinople, there lived in Byzantium a 
 merchant named Theodore, a good man and just, 
 fearing God, and serving him with all his heart. He 
 r>v went^a voyage to the ports of Syria and Palestine 
 with his wares, in a large well-laden vessel, sold his 
 goods to profit, and turned his ship's head home- 
 wards with a good lading of silks and spices, the 
 former some of the produce of the looms of distant 
 China, brought in caravans through Persia and Syria 
 to the emporiums on the Mediterranean. 
 
 It was late in the year when Theodore began his 
 voyage home, the equinoctial gales had begun to 
 blow, and prudence would have suggested that he 
 should winter in Cyprus ; but he was eager to return 
 to Byzantium to his beloved wife, and to prepare for 
 another adventure in the ensuing spring. 
 
 But he was overtaken by a storm as he was sailing 
 
 up the Propontis, and to save the vessel he was 
 
 obliged to throw all the lading overboard. He 
 
 1 This account is taken from a sermon preached in the 
 Church of St. Sophia at Constantinople on Orthodoxy Sunday, 
 printed by Combefisius (Auctuarium novum, pars post. col. 644), 
 from a MS. in the National Library at Paris. Another copy of 
 the sermon is in the Library at Turin. The probable date of 
 the composition is the tenth century. Orthodoxy Sunday was 
 not instituted till 842. 
 
104 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 reached Constantinople in safety, but with the loss of 
 his goods. His grief and despair were excessive. 
 His wife was unable to console him. He declared 
 that he was weary of the world, his loss was sent him 
 as a warning from heaven not to set his heart on 
 Mammon, and that he was resolved to enter a mon- 
 astery, and spend the rest of his days in devotion. 
 
 " Hasten, husband mine," said the wife, " put this 
 scheme into execution at once ; for if you delay you 
 may change your mind." 
 
 The manifest impatience of his wife to get rid of 
 him somewhat cooled the ardour of Theodore for the 
 monastic profession, and before taking the irrevoc- 
 able step, he consulted a friend. " I think, dearest 
 brother, nay, I am certain, that this misfortune came 
 on me as the indication of the finger of Providence 
 that I should give up merchandise and care only for 
 the saving of my soul." 
 
 " My friend," answered the other, " I do not see 
 this in the same light as you. Every merchant must 
 expect loss. It is one of the ordinary risks of sailors. 
 It is absurd to despair. Go to your friends and 
 borrow of them sufficient to load your vessel again, 
 and try your luck once more. You are known as a 
 merchant, and trusted as an honest man, and will 
 have no difficulty in raising the sum requisite." 
 
 Theodore rushed home, and announced to his wife 
 that he had already changed his mind, and that he 
 was going to borrow money. 
 
 " Whatever pleases you is right in my eyes," said 
 the lady. 
 
 Theodore then went the round of his acquaintances, 
 
ABRAM THE USURER. 105 
 
 told them of his misfortune, and then asked them to 
 lend him enough to restock his vessel, promising to 
 pay them a good percentage on the money lent. 
 But the autumn had been fatal to more vessels than 
 that of Theodore, and he found that no one was dis- 
 posed to advance him the large sum he required. He 
 went from door to door, but a cold refusal met him 
 everywhere. Disappointed, and sick at heart, dis- 
 tressed at finding friends so unfriendly, he returned 
 home, and said to his wife, " Woman ! the world is 
 hard and heartless, I will have nothing more to do 
 with it. I will become a monk." 
 
 " Dearest husband, do so by all means, and I shall 
 be well pleased," answered the wife. 
 
 Theodore tossed on his bed all night, unable to 
 sleep; before dawn an idea struck him. There was a 
 Jew named Abram who had often importuned him to 
 trade with his money, but whom he had invariably 
 refused. He would try this man as a last resource. 
 
 So when morning came, Theodore rose and went to 
 the shop of Abram. The Hebrew listened attentively 
 to his story, and then said, smiling, " Master Theo- 
 dore, when thou wast rich, I often asked thee to take 
 my money and trade with it in foreign parts, so that 
 I might turn it over with advantage. But I always 
 met with refusal. And now that thou art poor, with 
 only an empty ship, thou comest to me to ask for a 
 loan. What if again tempest should fall on thee, and 
 wreck and ruin be thy lot, where should I look for 
 my money ? Thou art poor. If I were to sell thy 
 house it would not fetch much. Nay, if I am to lend 
 thee money thou must provide a surety, to whom I 
 
ro6 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 may apply, and who will repay me, should accident 
 befall thee. Go, find security, and I will find the 
 money." 
 
 So Theodore went to his best friend, and told him 
 the circumstances, and asked him to stand surety for 
 him to the Jew. 
 
 '•'Dear friend," answered he, "I should be most 
 happy to oblige you ; but I am a poor man, I have 
 not as much money in the world as would suffice. 
 The Hebrew would not accept me as surety, he knows 
 the state of my affairs too well. But I will do for 
 you what little I can. We will go together to some 
 merchants, and together beseech them to 'stand 
 security for you to the Jew." 
 
 So the two friends went to a rich merchant with 
 whom they were acquainted, and told him what they 
 wanted ; but he blustered and turned red, and said, 
 " Away with you, fellows ; who ever heard of such 
 insolence as that two needy beggars should ask a 
 man of substance like me to go with them to the den 
 of a cursed infidel Jew. God be thanked ! I have no 
 dealings with Jews. I never have spoken to one in 
 my life, and never give them a greeting when I pass 
 any in street or market-place. A man who goes to 
 the Jews to-day, goes to the dogs to-morrow, and to 
 the devil the day after." 
 
 The friends visited other merchants, but with like 
 ill-success. Theodore had spent the day fasting, and 
 he went supperless to bed, very hopeless, and with 
 the prospect growing more distinct of being obliged 
 to put on the cowl of the monk, a prospect which 
 somehow or other he did not relish. 
 
ABRAM THE USURER. 107 
 
 Next morning he started from home to tell Abram 
 his failure. His way was through the great square 
 called the Copper-Market before the Imperial palace. 
 Now there stood there a porch consisting of four 
 pillars, which supported a dome covered with brazen 
 tiles, the whole surmounted by a cross, on the east 
 side of which, looking down on the square, and across 
 over the sparkling Bosphorus to the hills of Asia, was 
 a large, solemn figure of the Crucified. This porch 
 and cross had been set up by Constantine the Great, 1 
 and had been restored by Anastasius. 
 ^As Theodore sped through the Copper-Market in 
 the morning, he looked up; the sky was of the deepest 
 gentian blue. Against it, glittering like gold in the 
 early sun, above the blazing, brazen tiles, stood the 
 great cross with the holy form thereon. Theodore 
 halted, in his desolation, doubt and despair, and 
 looked up at the figure. It was in the old, grave 
 Byzantine style, very solemn, without the pain ex- 
 pressed in Mediaeval crucifixes, and like so many 
 early figures of the sort was probably vested and 
 crowned. 
 
 A sudden inspiration took hold of the ruined man. 
 He fell on his knees, stretched his hands towards the 
 
 1 This famous figure was cast down and broken by Leo the 
 Isaurian in 730, a riot ensued, the market-women interfering 
 with the soldiers, who were engaged on pulling down the figure, 
 they shook the ladders and threw down one who was engaged 
 in hacking the face of the figure. This led to the execution of 
 ten persons, among them Gregory, head of the bodyguard, and 
 Mary, a lady of the Imperial family. The Empress Irene set 
 up a mosaic figure in its place. This was again destroyed by 
 Leo the Armenian, and again restored after his death by Theo- 
 philus in 829. 
 
io8 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 shining form, and cried, "Lord Jesus Christ! the hope 
 of the whole earth, the only succour of all who are 
 cast down, the sure confidence of those that look to 
 Thee ! All on whom I could lean have failed me. I 
 have none on earth on whom I can call. Do Thou, 
 Lord, be surety for me, though I am unworthy to 
 ask it." Then filled with confidence he rose from his 
 knees, and ran to the house of Abram, and bursting 
 in on him said, " Be of good cheer, I have found a 
 Surety very great and noble and mighty. Trust thy 
 money, He will keep it safe." 
 
 Abram answered, "Let the man come, and sign the 
 deed and see the money paid over." 
 
 " Nay, my brother," said Theodore ; " come thou 
 with me. I have hurried in thus to bring thee to him." 
 
 Then Abram went with Theodore, who led him to 
 the Copper-Market, and bade him be seated, and then 
 raising his finger, he pointed to the sacred form hang- 
 ing on the cross, and, full of confidence, said to the 
 Hebrew, " There, friend, thou could'st not have a 
 better security than the Lord of heaven and earth. 
 I have besought Him to stand for me, and I know 
 He is so good that He will not deny me." 
 
 The Jew was perplexed. He said nothing for a 
 moment or two, and then, wondering at the man's 
 faith, answered, " Friend, dost thou not know the 
 difference between the faith of a Christian and of a 
 Hebrew ? How can'st thou ask me to accept as thy 
 surety, One whom thou believest my people to have 
 rejected and crucified? However, I will trust thee, for 
 thou art a God-fearing and an honest man, and I will 
 risk my money." 
 
ABRAM THE USURER. 109 
 
 So they twain returned to the Jew's quarters, and 
 Abram counted out fifty pounds of gold, in our money 
 about ^"2,400. He tied the money up in bags, and 
 bade his servants bear it after Theodore. And Abram 
 and the glad merchant came to the Copper-Market, 
 and then the Jew ordered that the money bags should 
 be set down under the Tetrastyle where was the great 
 crucifix. Then said the Hebrew usurer, " See, Theo- 
 dore, I make over to thee the loan here before thy 
 God." And there, in the face of the great image of 
 his Saviour, Theodore received the loan, and swore to 
 deal faithfully by the Jew, and to restore the money 
 to him with usury. 
 
 ■ After this, the merchant bought a cargo for his 
 vessel, and hired sailors, and set sail for Syria. He 
 put into port at Tyre and Sidon, and traded with his 
 goods, and bought in place of them many rich Oriental 
 stuffs, with spices and gums, and when his ship was 
 well laden, he sailed for Constantinople. 
 
 But again misfortune befell him. A storm arose, 
 and the sailors were constrained to throw the bales of 
 silk, and bags of costly gums, and vessels of Oriental 
 chasing into the greedy waves. But as the ship 
 began to fill, they were obliged to get into the boat 
 and escape to land. The ship keeled over and drifted 
 into shallow water. When the storm abated they got 
 to her, succeeded in floating her, and made the best 
 of their way in the battered ship to Constantinople, 
 thankful that they had preserved their lives. But 
 Theodore was in sad distress, chiefly because he had 
 lost Abram's money. " How shall I dare to face the 
 man who dealt so generously by me ? " he said to 
 
no HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 himself. " What shall I say, when he reproaches me ? 
 What answer can I make to my Surety for having 
 lost the money entrusted to me ? " 
 
 j Now when Abram heard that Theodore had arrived 
 in Constantinople in his wrecked vessel with the loss 
 of all his cargo, he went to him at once, and found 
 the man prostrate in his chamber, the pavement wet 
 with his tears of shame and disappointment. Abram 
 laid his hand gently on his shoulder, and said, in a 
 kind voice, " Rise, my brother, do not be downcast ; 
 give glory to God who rules all things as He wills, 
 and follow me home. God will order all for the 
 best." 
 
 I Then the merchant rose, and followed the Jew, but 
 he would not lift his eyes from the ground, for he was 
 ashamed to look him in the face. Abram was 
 troubled at the distress of his friend, and he said to 
 him, as he shut the door of his house, " Let not thy 
 heart be broken with overmuch grief, dearest friend, 
 for it is the mark of a wise man to bear all things 
 with firm mind. See ! I am ready again to lend thee 
 fifty pounds of gold, and may better fortune attend 
 thee this time. I trust that our God will bless the 
 money and multiply it, so that in the end we shall 
 lose nothing by our former misadventure." 
 
 \ " Then," said Theodore, " Christ shall again stand 
 security for me. Bring the money to the Tetrastyle." 
 
 Therefore again the bags of gold were brought before 
 the cross, and when they had then been made over to 
 the merchant, Abram said, "Accept, Master Theodore, 
 this sum of fifty pounds of gold, paid over to thee 
 before thy Surety, and go in peace, And may the 
 
ABRAM THE USURER. m 
 
 Lord God prosper thee on thy journey, and make 
 plain the way before thee. And remember, that 
 before this thy Surety thou art bound to me for a 
 hundred pounds of gold." 
 
 I Having thus spoken, Abram returned home. 
 Theodore repaired and reloaded his ship, engaged 
 mariners and made ready to sail. But on the day 
 that he was about to depart, he went into the Copper- 
 Market, and kneeling down, with his face towards 
 the cross, he prayed the Lord to be his companion 
 and captain, and to guide him on his journey, and 
 bring him safe through all perils with his goods back 
 to Byzantium once more. 
 
 \ Then he went on to the house of Abram to 
 bid him farewell. And the Jew said to him, " Keep 
 thyself safe, brother, and beware now of trusting thy 
 ship to the sea at the time of equinoctial gales. Thou 
 hast twice experienced the risk, run not into it again. 
 Winter at the place whither thou goest, and that I 
 may know how thou farest, if thou hast the oppor- 
 tunity, send me some of the money by a sure hand. 
 Then there is less chance of total ruin, for if one 
 portion fails, the other is likely to be secure." 
 
 Theodore approved of this advice, and promised to 
 follow it ; so then the Jew and the Christian parted 
 with much affection and mutual respect, for each 
 knew the other to be a good and true man, fearing 
 God, and seeking to do that which is right. This 
 time Theodore turned his ship's head towards the 
 West, intending to carry his wares to the markets of 
 Spain. He passed safely through the Straits of 
 Hercules, and sailed North. Then a succession of 
 
U2 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 steady strong breezes blew from the South and swept 
 him on so that he could not get into harbour till he 
 reached Britain. He anchored in a bay on the rugged 
 Cornish coast, in the very emporium of tin and lead, 
 in the Cassiterides famed of old for supplying ore 
 precious in the manufacture of bronze. He readily 
 disposed of all his merchandise, and bought as much 
 tin and lead as his ship would hold. His goods had 
 sold so well, and tin and lead were so cheap that he 
 found he had fifty pounds in gold in addition to the 
 cargo. 
 
 The voyage back from Britain to Byzantium was 
 long and dangerous, and Theodore was uneasy. He 
 found no other ships from Constantinople where he 
 was, and no means presented themselves for sending 
 back the money in part, as he had promised. He was 
 a conscientious man, and he wished to keep his 
 word. 
 
 He set sail from Cornwall before the summer was 
 over, passed safely through the straits into the Medi- 
 terranean, but saw no chance of reaching Constanti- 
 nople before winter. He would not again risk his 
 vessel in the gales of the equinox, and he resolved to 
 winter in Sicily. He arrived too late in the year to 
 be able to send a message and the money to Abram. 
 His promise troubled him, and he cast about in his 
 mind how to keep his word. 
 
 At last, in the simple faith which coloured the 
 whole life of the man, he made a very solid wooden 
 box and tarred it well internally and externally. 
 Then he inclosed in it the fifty pounds of gold he had 
 made by his goods in Britain over and above his 
 
ABRAM THE USURER. 113 
 
 lading of lead and tin, and with the money he put a 
 letter, couched in these terms : 
 
 ; " In the name of my heir and God, my Lord and 
 Saviour Jesus Christ who is also my Surety for a 
 large sum of money, I, Theodore, humbly address 
 my master Abram, who, with God, is my benefactor 
 and creditor. 
 
 * " I would have thee know, Master Abram, that 
 we all, by the mercy of God, are in good health. 
 God has verily prospered us well and brought our 
 merchandise to a good market. And now, see ! I 
 send thee fifty pounds of gold, which I commit to the 
 care of my Surety, and He will convey the money 
 safely to thy hands. Receive it from me and do not 
 forget us. Farewell." 
 
 ^ Then he fastened up the box, and raised his eyes 
 to heaven, and prayed to God, saying : " O Lord 
 Jesus Christ, Mediator between God and Man, Who 
 dwellest in Heaven, but hast respect unto the lowly ; 
 hear the voice of thy servant this day ; because Thou 
 hast proved Thyself do me a good and kind Surety, I 
 trust to Thee to return to my benefactor and creditor, 
 Abram, the money I promised to send him. Trusting 
 in Thee, Lord, I commit this little box to the sea ! " 
 
 So saying he flung the case containing the gold 
 and the letter into the waves; and standing on a cliff 
 watched it floating on the waters, rising and falling on 
 the glittering wavelets, gradually drifting further and 
 further out to sea, till it was lost to his sight, and 
 then, nothing doubting but that the Lord Christ 
 would look after the little box and guide it over the 
 waste of waters to its proper destination, he went 
 
 H 
 
ii 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 back to his lodging, and told the ship pilot what he 
 had done. The sailor remained silent wondering in 
 his mind at the great faith of his master. Then his 
 rough heart softened, and he knelt down and blessed 
 and praised God. 
 
 That night Theodore had a dream, and in the 
 morning he told it to the pilot. 
 
 \ " I thought," said he, " that I was back in Byzan- 
 tium, and standing in the Copper-Market before the 
 great cross with Christ on it. And I fancied in my 
 dream that Abram was at my side. And I looked, 
 and saw him hold up his hands, and receive the box 
 in them, and the great figure of Christ said, ' See, 
 Abram, I give thee what Theodore committed to my 
 trust.' And, thereupon, I awoke trembling. So now 
 I am quite satisfied that the gold is in safe keeping,, 
 and will infallibly reach its destination." 
 
 The summer passed, the storms of autumn had 
 swept over the grey sea, and torn away from the 
 trees the last russet leaves ; winter had set in ; yet 
 Abram had received no news of Theodore. 
 
 He did not doubt the good faith of his friend, but 
 he began to fear that ill-luck attended him. He had 
 risked a large sum, and would feel the loss severely 
 should this cargo be lost like the former one. He 
 talked the matter over with his steward, and con- 
 sidered it from every imaginable point of view. His 
 anxiety took him constantly to the shore to watch 
 the ships that arrived, hoping to hear news by some 
 of them, and to recover part of his money. He hardly 
 expected the returnof Theodore after theinjunctions he 
 had given him not to risk his vessel in a stormy season. 
 
ABRAM THE USURER. 115 
 
 >One day he was walking with his steward by the 
 sea-side, when the waves were more boisterous than 
 usual. Not a ship was visible. All were in winter 
 quarters. Abram drew off his sandals, and began to 
 wash his feet in the sea water. Whilst so doing he 
 observed something floating at a little distance. 
 With the assistance of his steward he fished out a 
 box black with tar, firmly fastened up, like a solid 
 cube of wood. Moved by curiosity he carried the 
 box home, and succeeded with a little difficulty in 
 forcing it open. Inside he found a letter, not directed, 
 but marked with three crosses, and a bag of gold. It 
 need hardly be said that this was the box Theodore 
 had entrusted to Christ, and his Surety had fulfilled 
 His trust and conveyed it to the hands of the creditor. 
 
 Next spring Theodore returned to Constantinople 
 in safety. As soon as he had disembarked, he hastened 
 to the house of Abram to tell him the results of his 
 voyage. 
 
 The Jewish usurer, wishing to prove him, feigned 
 not to understand, when Theodore related how he 
 had sent him fifty pounds of gold, and made as though 
 he had not received the money. But the merchant 
 was full of confidence, and he said, " I cannot under- 
 stand this, brother, for I enclosed the money in a box 
 along with a letter, and committed it to the custody 
 of my Saviour Christ, Who has acted as Surety for 
 me unworthy. But as thou sayest that thou hast not 
 received it, come with me, and let us go together be- 
 fore the crucifix, and say before it that thou hast not 
 had the money conveyed to thee, and then I will be- 
 lieve thy word." 
 
n6 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Abram promised to accompany his friend, and ris- 
 ing from their seats, they went together to the 
 Copper-Market. And "when they came to the Tetra- 
 style, Theodore raised his hands to the Crucified, and 
 said, "My Saviour and Surety, didst Thou not restore 
 the £o!d to Abram that I entrusted to Thee for that 
 
 purpose 
 
 ?" 
 
 There was something so wonderful, so beautiful, in 
 the man's faith, that Abram was overpowered ; and 
 withal there was the evidence that it was not mis- 
 placed so clear to the Jew, that the light of conviction 
 like a dazzling sunbeam darted into his soul, and 
 Theodore saw the Hebrew usurer fall prostrate on 
 the pavement, half fainting with the emotion which 
 oppressed him. 
 
 Theodore ran and fetched water in his hands and 
 sprinkled his face, and brought the usurer round. 
 And Abram said, " As God liveth, my friend, I will 
 not enter into my house till I have taken thy Lord 
 and Surety for my Master." A crowd began to gather 
 and it was bruited abroad that the Jewish usurer 
 sought baptism. And when the story reached the 
 ears of the Emperor Heraclius, he glorified God. 
 So Abram was put under instruction, and was bap- 
 tised by the patriarch Sergius. 1 
 
 And after seven days a solemn procession was in- 
 stituted through the streets of Constantinople to the 
 Copper-Market, in which walked the emperor and 
 the patriarch, and all the clergy of the city ; and the 
 box which had contained the money was conveyed 
 
 1 Sergius was patriarch of Constantinople between 610 and 
 638. He embraced the Monothelite heresy. 
 
ABRAM THE USURER. 117 
 
 by them to the Tetrastyle and laid up, along with the 
 gold and the letter before the image, to be a memorial 
 of what had taken place to all generations. And 
 thenceforth the crucifix received the common appella- 
 tion of Antiphonetos. or the Surety. 
 
 As for the tin and lead with which the vessel of 
 Theodore was freighted, it sold for a great price, so 
 that both he and Abram realised a large sum by the 
 transaction. But neither would keep to himself any 
 portion of it, but gave it all to the Church of S. 
 Sophia, and therewith a part of the sanctuary was 
 overlaid with silver. Then Theodore and his wife, 
 with mutual consent, gave up the world and retired 
 into monastic institutions. 
 
 Abram afterwards built and endowed an oratory 
 near the Tetrastyle, and Sergius ordained him priest 
 and his two sons deacons. 
 
 Thus ends this strange and very beautiful story, which 
 I have merely condensed from the somewhat prolix 
 narrative of the Byzantine preacher. The reader will-, 
 probably agree with me that if sermons in the 19th, 
 centurv were as entertaining as this of the 10th, 
 fewer people would be found to go to sleep during 
 their delivery. 
 
 I have told the tale as related by the preacher. 
 But there are reasons which awaken suspicion that he 
 somewhat erred as to his dates ; but that, nevertheless 
 the story is really not without a foundation of fact. To- 
 wards the close of the oration the preacher points to the 
 ambone, and the thusiasterion, and bids his hearers 
 remark how they are overlaid with silver, and this he 
 says was the silver that Abram, the wealthy Jewish 
 
nS HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 usurer, and Theodore, the merchant, gave to the 
 Church of S. Sophia. 
 
 Now it happens that we have got a contemporary- 
 record of this overlaying of the sanctuary with silver ; 
 we know from the pen of Procopius of Gaza that it 
 took place in the reign of Justinian in A.D. 537. 1 
 
 This was preparatory to the dedication of the great 
 Church, when the Emperor and the wealthy citizens 
 of Byzantium were lavishly contributing to the adorn- 
 ment of the glorious building. 
 
 We can quite understand how that the new convert 
 and the grateful merchant were carried away by the 
 current of the general enthusiasm, and gave all their 
 silver to the plating of the sanctuary of the new 
 Church. Procopius tells us that forty thousand 
 pounds of silver were spent in this work. Not all of 
 this, however, could have been given by Abram and 
 Theodore. 
 
 If this then were the date of the conversion of 
 Abram, for Heraclius we must read Justinian, and for 
 Sergius we must substitute Mennas. As the sermon 
 was not preached till four hundred years after, the 
 error can be accounted for, one imperial benefactor of 
 the Church was mistaken for another. 
 
 Now about the time of Justinian, we know from 
 other sources that there was a converted Jew named 
 Abram who founded and built a church and 
 monastery in Constantinople, and which in after 
 times was known as the Abramite Monastery. We 
 are told this by John Moschus. We can not fix the 
 exact date of the foundation, Moschus heard about 
 
 1 Fabricius, Bibl. Graeca, Ed. Harles, T.X. p. 124, 125. 
 
ABRAM THE USURER. 119 
 
 A.D. 600 from the abbot John Rutilus, who had heard 
 it from Stephen the Moabite, that the Monastery of 
 the Abramites had been constructed by Abram who 
 afterwards was raised to the metropolitan See of 
 Ephesus. We may put then the foundation of the 
 monastery at about A.D. 540. 
 
 Now Abram of Ephesus succeeded Procopius who 
 was bishop in 560 ; and his successor was Rufinus in 
 597. The date of the elevation of Abram to the 
 metropolitan throne of Ephesus is not known exactly, 
 but it was probably about 565. 
 
 There is, of course, much conjecture in thus 
 identifying the usurer Abram with Abram, Bishop of 
 Ephesus ; but there is certainly a probability that 
 they were identical ; and if so, then one more pretty 
 story of the good man survives. After having built 
 the monastery in Constantinople, Moschus tells us 
 that Abram went to Jerusalem, the home to which a 
 Jewish heart naturally turns, and there he set to work 
 to erect another monastery. Now there was among 
 the workmen engaged on the building a mason who 
 ate but sparingly, conversed with none, but worked 
 diligently, and prayed much in his hours of relaxation 
 from labour. 
 
 Abram became interested in the man, and called 
 him to him, and learned from him his story. It was 
 this. The mason had been a monk in the Theodorian 
 Monastery along with his brother. The brother 
 weary of the life, had left and fallen into grave moral 
 disorders. Then this one now acting as mason had 
 gone after him, laid aside his cowl and undertaken 
 the same daily toil as the erring brother, that he 
 
120 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 might be with him, waiting his time when by means 
 of advice or example he might draw the young man 
 from his life of sin. But though he had laid aside 
 the outward emblems of his monastic profession, he 
 kept the rule of life as closely as he was able, culti- 
 vating prayer and silence and fasting. Then Abram 
 deeply moved, said to the monk-mason : " God will 
 look on thy fraternal charity ; be of good courage, 
 He will give thee thy brother at thy petition." 
 
Sopbie Hpit36cb. 
 
 '(SOME are born great," said Malvolio, strutting in 
 yellow stockings, cross-gartered, before Olivia, " some 
 achieve greatness," and with a smile, " some have 
 greatness thrust upon them." 
 
 Of the latter was Sophie Sabine Apitzsch. She 
 was not born great, she was' the daughter of an 
 armourer. She hardly can be said to have achieved 
 greatness, though she did attain to notoriety ; what 
 greatness she had was thrust on her, not altogether 
 reluctant to receive it. But the greatness was not 
 much, and was of an ambiguous description. She 
 was treated for a while as a prince in disguise, and 
 then became the theme of an opera, of a drama, and 
 of a novel. For a hundred years her top-boots were 
 preserved as historical relics in the archives of the 
 House of Saxony, till in 1813 a Cossack of the 
 Russian army passing through Augustenburg, saw, 
 desired, tried on, and marched off with them ; and 
 her boots entered Paris with the Allies. 
 
 About five-and-twenty miles from Dresden lived in 
 1 714 a couple of landed proprietors, the one called 
 Volkmar, and the other von Giinther, who fumed 
 with fiery hostility against each other, and the cause 
 of disagreement was, that the latter wrote himself von 
 Gtinther. Now, to get a von before the name makes 
 a great deal of difference : it purifies, nay, it alters 
 
122 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 the colour of the blood, turning it from red to blue. 
 No one in Germany can prefix von to his name as 
 any one in England can append Esq. to his. He 
 must receive authorisation by diploma of nobility 
 from his sovereign. 
 
 George von Gtinther had been, not long before, 
 plain George Gtinther, but in 1712 he had obtained 
 from the Emperor Charles VI. a patent of nobility, 
 or gentility, they are the same abroad, and the motive 
 that moved his sacred apostolic majesty to grant the 
 patent was — as set forth therein — that an ancestor of 
 George Gtinther of the same name " had sat down to 
 table with the elector John George II. of Saxony ;" 
 and it was inconceivable that a mere citizen could 
 have been suffered to do this, unless there were some 
 nobility in him. George von Gtinther possessed an 
 estate which was a manor, a knight's fee, at Jagerhof, 
 and he was moreover upper Forester and Master of 
 the Fisheries to the King-elector of Saxony, and 
 Sheriff of Chemnitz and Frankenberg. He managed 
 to marry his daughters to men blessed with von before 
 their names, one to von Bretschneider, Privy-Coun- 
 cillor of War, the other to a Major von Wollner. 
 
 Now, all this was gall and wormwood to Councillor- 
 of-Agriculture, Daniel Volkmar, who lived on his 
 paternal acres at Hetzdorf, of which he was hereditary 
 chief magistrate by virtue of his lordship of the acres. 
 This man had made vain efforts to be ennobled. He 
 could not find that any ancestor of his had sat at 
 table with an elector ; and, perhaps, he could not 
 scrape together sufficient money to induce his sacred 
 apostolic majesty to overlook this defect. As he 
 
SOPHIE APITZSCH. 123 
 
 •could not get his diploma, he sought how he might 
 injure his more fortunate neighbour, and this he did 
 by spying out his acts, watching for neglect of his 
 duties to the fishes or the game, and reporting him 
 anonymously to head-quarters. Giinther knew well 
 enough who it was that sought to injure him, and, as 
 Volkmar believed, had invited- some of the game- 
 keepers to shoot him ; accordingly, Volkmar never 
 rode or walked in the neighbourhood of the royal 
 forests and fish-ponds unarmed, and without servants 
 carrying loaded muskets. 
 
 One day a brother magistrate, Pockel by name, 
 came over to see him about a matter that puzzled 
 him. There had appeared in the district under his 
 jurisdiction a young man, tall, well-built, handsome, 
 but slightly small-pox-pitted, who had been arrested 
 by the police for blowing a hunting-horn. Now 
 ignoble lips might not touch a hunting-horn, and for 
 any other than breath that issued out of noble lungs 
 to sound a note on such a horn was against the 
 laws. 
 
 "Oh," said Volkmar, "if he has done this, and is 
 not a gentleman — lock him up. What is his name ? " 
 
 " He calls himself Karl Marbitz." 
 
 " But I, even I, may not blow a blast on a horn — 
 that scoundrel Giinther may. Deal with the fellow 
 Marbitz with the utmost severity." 
 
 " But — suppose he may have the necessary qualifi- 
 cation ? " 
 
 " How can he without a von before his name ? " 
 
 " Suppose he be a nobleman, or something even 
 higher, in disguise ? " 
 
i2 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 " What, in disguise ? Travelling incognito ? Our 
 Crown Prince is not at Dresden." 1 
 
 " Exactly. All kinds of rumours are afloat 
 concerning this young man, who is, indeed, 
 about the Crown Prince's age ; he has been lodg- 
 ing with a baker at Aue, and there blowing the 
 horn." 
 
 " I'll go with you and see him. I will stand bail 
 for him. Let him come to me. Hah-hah ! George 
 von Glinther, hah-hah ! " 
 
 So Volkmar, already more than half disposed to 
 believe that the horn-blower was a prince in disguise, 
 rode over to the place where he was in confinement, 
 saw him, and lost what little doubt he had. The up- 
 right carriage, the aristocratic cast of features, the 
 stand-off manners, all betokened the purest of blue 
 blood — all were glimmerings of that halo which sur- 
 rounds sovereignty. 
 
 The Crown Prince of Saxony was away — it was 
 alleged, in France — making the grand tour, but, was 
 it not more likely that he was going the round of the 
 duchy of Saxony, inquiring into the wants and wrongs 
 of the people ? If so, who could better assist him to 
 the knowledge of these things, than he, Volkmar, and 
 who could better open his eyes to the delinquencies 
 of high-placed, high-salaried officials — notably of the 
 fisheries and forests ? 
 
 " There is one thing shakes my faith," said Pockel : 
 " our Crown Prince is not small-pox marked." 
 
 "That is nothing," answered Volkmar eagerly. 
 
 1 Augustus the Strong- was King of Poland and Elector of 
 Saxony. 
 
SOPHIE APITZSCH. 125 
 
 " His Serenity has caught the infection in making his 
 studies among the people." 
 
 " And then — he is so shabbily dressed." 
 
 "That is nothing — it is the perfection of disguise." 
 
 Volkmar carried off the young man to his house, 
 and showed him the greatest respect, insisted on his 
 sitting in the carriage facing the horses, and would 
 on no account take a place at his side, but seated 
 himself deferentially opposite him. 
 
 On reaching Hetzdorf, Volkmar introduced his 
 wife and his daughter Joanna to the distinguished 
 prince, who behaved to them very graciously, and 
 with the most courtly air expressed himself charmed 
 with the room prepared for him. 
 
 Dinner was served, and politics were discussed ; 
 the reserve with which the guest treated such subjects, 
 the caution with which he expressed an opinion, 
 served to deepen in Volkmar's mind the conviction 
 that he had caught the Crown Prince travelling incog. 
 After the servants had withdrawn, and when a good 
 deal of wine — the best in the cellar — had been drunk, 
 the host said confidentially in a whisper, "I see clearly 
 enough what you are." 
 
 " Indeed," answered the guest, "I can tell you what 
 I am — by trade an armourer." 
 
 "Ah, ha! but by birth— what ? " said Volkmar, 
 slyly, holding up his glass and winking over it. 
 
 " Well," answered the guest, " I will admit this — I 
 am not what I appear." 
 
 "And may I further ask your — I mean you — where 
 you are at home ? " 
 
 " I am a child of Saxony," was the answer. 
 
126 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Afterwards, at the trial, the defendant insisted that 
 this was exactly the reply made, whereas Volkmar 
 asserted that the words were, " I am a child of the 
 House of Saxony." But there can be no doubt that 
 his imagination supplemented the actual words used 
 with those he wished to hear. 
 
 " The small-pox has altered you since you left 
 home," said Volkmar. 
 
 " Very likely. I have had the small-pox since I 
 left my home." 
 
 Volkmar at once placed his house, his servants, his 
 purse, at the disposal of his guest, and his offer was 
 readily accepted. 
 
 It is now advisable to turn back and explain the 
 situation, by relating the early history of this person, 
 who passed under the name of Karl Marbitz, an 
 armourer ; but whom a good number of people sus- 
 pected of being something other than what he gave 
 himself out to be, though only Volkmar and Pockel 
 and one or two others supposed him to be the Crown 
 Prince of Saxony. 
 
 Sophie Sabine Apitzsch was born at Lunzenau in 
 Saxony in 1692, was well brought up, kept to school, 
 and learned to write orthographically, and to have a 
 fair general knowledge of history and geography. 
 When she left school she was employed by her father 
 in his trade, which was that of an armourer. She 
 was tall and handsome, somewhat masculine — in after 
 years a Cossack got into her boots — had the small- 
 pox, which, however, only slightly disfigured her. In 
 17 10 she had a suitor, a gamekeeper, Melchior 
 Leonhart. But Sophie entertained a rooted dislike 
 
SOPHIE APITZSCH. 127 
 
 to marriage, and she kept her lover off for three years, 
 till her father peremptorily ordered her to marry 
 Melchior, and fixed the day for the wedding. Then 
 Sophie one night got out of her own clothing, stepped 
 into her father's best suit, and walked away in the 
 garments of a man, and shortly afterwards appeared 
 in Anspach under a feigned name, as a barber's 
 assistant. Here she got into difficulties with the 
 police, as she had no papers of legitimation, and to 
 escape them, enlisted. She carried a musket for a 
 month only, deserted, and resumed her vagabond life 
 in civil attire, as a barber's assistant, and came to 
 Leipzig, where she lodged at the Golden Cock. How 
 she acquired the art, and how those liked it on whose 
 faces she made her experiments with the razor, we are 
 not told. 
 
 At the Golden Cock lodged an athletic lady of the 
 name of Anna Franke, stout, muscular, and able to 
 lift great weights with her teeth, and with a jerk throw 
 them over her shoulders. Anna Franke gave daily 
 exhibitions of her powers, and on the proceeds main- 
 tained herself and her daughter, a girl of seventeen. 
 The stout - and muscular lady also danced on a tight 
 rope, which with her bounces acted like a taut bow- 
 string, projecting the athlete high into the air. 
 
 The Fraulein Franke very speedily fell in love with 
 the fine young barber, and proposed to her mother 
 that Herr Karl should be taken into the concern, as 
 he would be useful to stretch the ropes, and go round 
 for coppers. Sophie was nothing loth to have her 
 inn bill paid on these terms, but when finally the 
 bouncing mother announced that her daughter's hand 
 
128 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 was at the disposal of Karl, then the situation became 
 even more embarrassing than that at home from which 
 Sophie had run away. The barber maintained her 
 place as long as she could, but at last, when the 
 endearments of the daughter became oppressive, and 
 the urgency of the mother for speedy nuptials became 
 vexatious, she pretended that the father, who was 
 represented as a well-to-do citizen of Hamburg, 
 must first be consulted. On this plea Sophie 
 borrowed of Mother Franke the requisite money for 
 her journey and departed, promising to return in a 
 few weeks. Instead of fulfilling her promise, Sophie 
 wrote to ask for a further advance of money, and 
 when this was refused, disappeared altogether from 
 the knowledge of the athlete and her daughter. 
 
 On this second flight from marriage, Sophie 
 Apitzsch met with an armourer named Karl Marbitz, 
 and by some means or other contrived to get pos- 
 session of his pass, leaving him instead a paper of 
 legitimation made out under the name of Karl 
 Gottfried, which old Mother Franke had induced the 
 police to grant to the young barber who was engaged 
 to marry her daughter. 
 
 In June 1714, under the name of Marbitz, Sophie 
 appeared among the Erz-Gebirge, the chain of moun- 
 tains that separate Saxony from Bohemia, and begged 
 her way from place to place, pretending to be a 
 schoolmaster out of employ. After rambling about 
 for some time, she took up her quarters with a baker 
 at Elterlein. Here it was that for the first time a 
 suspicion was aroused that she was a person of greater 
 -consequence than she gave out. The rumour reached 
 
SOPHIE AP1TZSCH. 129 
 
 the nearest magistrate that there was a mysterious 
 stranger there who wore a ribbon and star of some 
 order, and he at once went to the place to make 
 inquiries, but found that Sophie had neither ribbon 
 nor order, and that her papers declared in proper 
 form who and what she was. At this time she fell ill 
 at the baker's house, and the man, perhaps moved by 
 the reports abroad concerning her, was ready to 
 advance her money to the amount of £6 or £j. 
 When recovered, she left the village where she had 
 been ill, and went to another one, where she took up 
 her abode with another baker, named Fischer, whom 
 she helped in his trade, or went about practising upon 
 the huntsman's horn. 
 
 This amusement it was which brought her into 
 trouble. Possibly she may not have known that the 
 horn was a reserved instrument that might not be 
 played by the ignoble. 
 
 At the time that Volkmar took her out of the lock- 
 up, and carried her off to his mansion in his carriage, 
 :she was absolutely without money, in threadbare 
 black coat, stockings ill darned, and her hair very 
 much in want of powder. 
 
 Hitherto her associates had been of the lowest 
 
 classes ; she had been superior to them in education, 
 
 in morals, and in character, and had to some extent 
 
 imposed on them. They acknowledged in her an 
 
 undefined dignity and quiet reserve, with unquestioned 
 
 superiority in attainments and general tone of mind, 
 
 and this they attributed to her belonging to a vastly 
 
 higher class in society. 
 
 Now, all at once she was translated into another 
 
 1 
 
130 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 condition of life, one in which she had never moved 
 before ; but she did not lose her head ; she main- 
 tained the same caution and reserve in it, and never 
 once exposed her ignorance so as to arouse suspicion 
 that she was not what people insisted on believing 
 her to be. She was sufficiently shrewd never by 
 word to compromise herself, and afterwards, when 
 brought to trial, she insisted that she had not once 
 asserted that she was other than Karl Marbitz the 
 armourer. Others had imagined she was a prince,, 
 but she had not encouraged them in their delusion by 
 as much as a word. That, no doubt, was true, but 
 she accepted the honours offered and presents made her 
 under this erroneous impression, without an attempt 
 to open the eyes of the deluded to their own folly. 
 
 Perhaps this was more than could be expected of" 
 her. " Foolery," said the clown in " Twelfth Night," 
 " does walk about the orb, like the sun ; it shines 
 everywhere " — and what are fools but the natural 
 prey of the clever ? 
 
 Sophie had been ill, reduced to abject poverty, was, 
 in need of good food, new clothes, and shelter ; all 
 were offered, even forced upon her. Was she called, 
 upon to reject them ? She thought not. 
 
 Now that Volkmar had a supposed prince under 
 his roof, he threw open his house to the neighbour- 
 hood, and invited every gentleman he knew — except 
 the von Gunthers. He provided the prince with a 
 coat of scarlet cloth frogged and laced with gold, with 
 a new hat, gave him a horse, filled his purse, and pro- 
 vided him with those identical boots in which a 
 century later a Cossack marched into Paris. 
 
SOPHIE APITZSCH. 131 
 
 She was addressed by her host and hostess as 
 " Your Highness," and " Your Serenity," and they 
 sought to kiss her hand, but she waived away these 
 exhibitions of servility, saying, " Let be — we will 
 regard each other as on a common level." Once 
 Volkmar said slyly to her, " What would your august 
 father say if he knew you were here ? " 
 
 " He would be surprised," was all the answer that 
 could be drawn from her. One day the newspaper 
 contained information of the Crown Prince's doings 
 in Paris with his tutor and attendants. Volkmar 
 pointed it out to her with a twinkle of the eye, saying, 
 " Do not suppose I am to be hoodwinked by such 
 attempts to deceive the public as that." 
 
 In the mornings when the pseudo prince left the 
 bedroom, outside the door stood Herr Volkmar, cap 
 in hand, bowing. As he offered her a pinch of snuff 
 from a gold tabatiere one day, he saw her eyes rest on 
 it ; he at once said, " This belonged formerly to the 
 Konigsmark." 
 
 " Then," she replied, "it will have the double initials 
 on it. ' A ' for Aurora." 
 
 Now, argued Volkmar, how was it likely that his 
 guest should know the scandalous story of Augustus 
 I. and the fair Aurora of Kdnigsmark, mother of the 
 famous French marshal, unless he had belonged to 
 the royal family of Saxony P 1 He left out of account 
 that Court scandal is talked about everywhere, and is 
 in the mouths of all. Then he presented her with the 
 snuff-box. Next he purchased for her a set of silver 
 
 1 Aurora v. Konigsmark went out of favour in 1698 — probably 
 then sold the gold snuff-box. She died in 1728. 
 
132 HISTORIC ODDITIES, 
 
 plate for her cover, and ordered a ribbon and a star of 
 diamonds, because it became one of such distinguished 
 rank not to appear without a decoration ! As the 
 girl said afterwards at her trial, she had but to hint a 
 desire for anything, and it was granted her at once. 
 Her host somewhat bored her with political disquisi- 
 tions ; he was desirous of impressing on his illustrious 
 guest what a political genius he was, and in his own 
 mind had resolved to become prime minister of Saxony 
 in the place of the fallen Beichlingen, who was said to 
 have made so much money out of the State that he 
 could buy a principality, and who, indeed, struck a 
 medal with his arms on it surmounted by a princely 
 crown. 
 
 But Volkmar's ambition went further. As already 
 stated he had a daughter — the modest Joanna ; what 
 a splendid opportunity was in the hands of the 
 scheming parents ! If the young prince formed an 
 attachment for Joanna, surely he might get the 
 emperor to elevate her by diploma to the rank of a 
 princess, and thus Volkmar would see his Joanna 
 Queen of Poland and Electress of Saxony. He and 
 Frau Volkmar were far too good people to scheme to 
 get their daughter such a place as the old Kbnigsmark 
 had occupied with the reigning sovereign. Besides, 
 Konigsmark had been merely created a countess, and 
 who would crave to be a countess when she might 
 be Queen ? and a favourite, when, by playing her 
 cards well, she might become a legitimate wife ? 
 
 So the old couple threw Joanna at the head of 
 their guest, and did their utmost to entangle him. 
 In the meantime the von Gtinthers were flaming- with 
 
SOPHIE APITZSCH. 133 
 
 envy and rage. They no more doubted that the 
 Volkmars had gotth? Crown Prince living with them, 
 than did the Volkmars themselves. The whole 
 neighbourhood flowed to the entertainments given in 
 his honour at Hetzdorf ; only the von Gtinthers were 
 shut out. But von Giinther met the mysterious 
 stranger at one or two of the return festivities given 
 by the gentry who had been entertained at Hetzdorf, 
 and he seized on one of these occasions boldly to in- 
 vite his Highness to pay him also a visit at his " little 
 place ; " and what was more than he expected, the 
 offer was accepted. 
 
 In fact, the Apitzsch who had twice run away from 
 matrimony, was becoming embarrassed again by the 
 tenderness of Joanna and the ambition of the parents. 
 
 The dismay of the Volkmars passes description 
 when their guest informed them he was going to pay 
 a visit to the hated rivals. 
 
 Sophie was fetched away in the von Giinther 
 carriage, and by servants put into new liveries for the 
 occasion, and was received and entertained with the 
 best at Jagerhof. Here, also, presents were made ; 
 among others a silver cover for table was given her 
 by the daughter of her host, who had married a 
 major, and who hoped, in return, to see her husband 
 advanced to be a general. 
 
 She was taken to see the royal castle of Augustus- 
 burg, and here a little difference of testimony occurs 
 as to the observation she made in the chapel, which 
 was found to be without an organ. At her trial it 
 wa 3 asserted that she had said, " I must order an 
 organ," but she positively swore she had said, " An 
 
134 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 organ ought to be provided." She was taken also to 
 the mansion of the Duke of Holstein at Weisenburg, 
 where she purchased one of his horses — that is to say, 
 agreed to take it, and let her hosts find the money. 
 
 The visit to the von Gttnthers did not last ten days, 
 and then she was back again with the Volkmars, to 
 their exuberant delight. Why she remained so short 
 a time at Jagerhof does not appear. Possibly she 
 may have been there more in fear of detection than 
 at Hetzdorf. Now that the Volkmars had her back 
 they would not let her out of their sight. They gave 
 her two servants in livery to attend her ; they assured 
 her that her absence had so affected Joanna that the 
 girl had done nothing but weep, and had refused to 
 eat. They began to press in their daughter's interest 
 for a declaration of intentions, and that negotiations 
 with the Emperor should be opened that a title of 
 princess of the Holy Roman Empire might be ob- 
 tained for her as preliminary to the nuptials. 
 
 Sophie Apitzsch saw that she must again make a 
 bolt to escape the marriage ring, and she looked 
 about for an opportunity. But there was no evading 
 the watch of the Volkmars, who were alarmed lest 
 their guest should again go to the hated von 
 Gtinthers. 
 
 Well would it have been for the Volkmars had 
 they kept the " prince " under less close surveillance, 
 and allowed him to succeed in his attempts to get 
 away. It would have been to their advantage in 
 many ways. 
 
 A fortnight or three weeks passed, and the horse 
 bought of the Duke of Holstein had not been sent 
 
SOPHIE APITZSCH. 135 
 
 In fact the Duke, when the matter was communicated 
 to him, was puzzled. He knew that the Crown 
 Prince was in Paris, and could not have visited his 
 stables, and promised to purchase his horse. So he 
 instituted inquiries before he consented to part with 
 the horse, and at once the bubble burst. Police 
 arrived at Hetzdorf to arrest the pretender, and con- 
 vey her to Augustusburg, where she was imprisoned, 
 till her trial. This was in February, 171 5. In her 
 prison she had an apoplectic stroke, but recovered. 
 Sentence was pronounced against her by the court at 
 Leipzig in 17 16, that she should be publicly whipped 
 out of the country. That is to say, sent from town 
 to town, and whipped in the market-place of each, till 
 she was sent over the frontier. In consideration of 
 her having had a stroke, the king commuted the 
 sentence to whipping in private, and imprisonment at 
 his majesty's pleasure. 
 
 She does not seem to have been harshly treated by 
 the gaoler of Waldheim, the prison to which she was 
 sent. She was given her own room, she dined at the 
 table of the gaoler, continued to wear male clothes, 
 and was cheerful, obedient, and contented. In 17 17 
 both she and her father appealed to the king for 
 further relaxation of her sentence, but this was refused. 
 The prison authorities gave her the best testimony for 
 good conduct whilst in their hands. 
 
 In the same year, 171 7, the unfortunate Volkmar 
 made a claim for the scarlet coat — which he said the 
 moths were likely to eat unless placed on some one's 
 back — the gold snuff-box, the silver spoons, dishes, 
 forks, the horse, the watch, and various other things 
 
136 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 he had given Sophie, being induced to do so by false 
 representations. The horse as well as the plate, the 
 star, the snuff-box, the coat and the boots had all 
 been requisitioned as evidence before her trial. The 
 question was a hard one to solve, whether Herr 
 Volkmar could recover presents, and it had to be 
 transmitted from one court to another. An order of 
 court dated January, 1722, required further evidence 
 to be produced before purse, coat, boots, &c, could 
 be returned to Volkmar — that is, seven years after 
 they had been taken into the custody of the Court. 
 The horse must have eaten more than his cost by this 
 time, and the coat must have lost all value through 
 moth-eating. The cost of proceedings was heavy, 
 and Volkmar then withdrew from his attempt to re- 
 cover the objects given to the false prince. 
 
 But already — long before, by decree of October 
 1717 — Sophie Apitzsch had been liberated. She left 
 prison in half male, half female costume, and in this 
 dress took service with a baker at Waldheim ; and 
 we hear no more of her, whether she married, and 
 when she died. 
 
peter IRielsen, 
 
 On the 29th day of April in the year 1465, died 
 Henry Strangebjerg, bishop of Ribe in Denmark, 
 after having occupied the See for just ten years. For 
 some days before his decease public, official prayer 
 had been made for his recovery by the Cathedral 
 Chapter, but in their hearts the Canons were impatient 
 for his departure. Not, be it understood, that the 
 Bishop was an unworthy occupant of the See of 
 Liafdag the Martyr — on the contrary, he had been a 
 man of exemplary conduct ; nor because he was harsh 
 in his rule — on the contrary, he had been a lenient 
 prelate. The reason why, when official prayer was 
 made for his recovery, it was neutralised by private 
 intercession for his removal, was solely this — his 
 removal opened a prospect of advancement. 
 
 The Cathedral Chapter of Ribe consisted of fifteen 
 Canons, and a Dean or Provost, all men of family, 
 learning and morals. Before the doctors had shaken 
 their heads over the sick bed of Henry Strangebjerg, it 
 was known throughout Ribe that there would be four 
 candidates for the vacant throne. It was, of course, 
 impossible for more than one man to be elected ; but 
 as the election lay entirely and uncontrolledly in the 
 hands of the Chapter, it was quite possible for a 
 Canon to make a good thing out of an election with- 
 out being himself elected. The bishops nominated 
 
138 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 to many benefices, and there existed then no law 
 against pluralities. The newly chosen prelate, if he 
 had a spark of gratitude, must reward those faithful 
 men who had made him bishop. 
 
 At 4 p.m. on April 29th the breath left the body of 
 Henry Strangebjerg. At 4.15 p.m. the Chapter were 
 rubbing their hands and drawing sighs of relief. But 
 Thomas Lange, the Dean, rubbed his hands and drew 
 his sigh of relief ten minutes earlier, viz., at 4.5 p.m., 
 for he stood by the bed of the dying bishop. At 
 3.25 p.m. Thomas Lange's nerves had received a 
 great shock, for a flicker as of returning life had 
 manifested itself in the sick man, and for a few 
 minutes he really feared he might recover. At 
 .4.10 p.m. Hartwig Juel, the Archdeacon, who had 
 been standing outside the bishop's door, was seen 
 running down the corridor with a flush in his cheeks. 
 Through the keyhole he had heard the Dean exclaim : 
 " Thank God ! " and when he heard that pious 
 ejaculation, he knew that all dread of the Bishop's 
 restoration was over. It was not till so late as 4.20 
 p.m. that Olaf Petersen knew it. Olaf was kneeling 
 in the Cathedral, in the Chapel of St. Lambert, the 
 yellow chapel as it was called, absorbed in devotion, 
 ■consequently the news did not reach him till five 
 minutes after the Chapter, twenty minutes after the 
 vacation of the See. Olaf Petersen was a very holy 
 man ; he was earnest and sincere. He was, above 
 everything, desirous of the welfare of the Church and 
 the advancement of religion. He was ascetic, deny- 
 ing himself in food, sleep and clothing, and was 
 profuse in his alms and in his devotions. He saw the 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 139 
 
 worldliness, the self-seeking, the greed of gain and 
 honours that possessed his fellows, and he was con- 
 vinced that one thing was necessary for the salvation 
 of Christianity in Ribe, and that one thing was his 
 own election to the See. 
 
 The other candidates were moved by selfish 
 interests. He cared only for true religion. Pro- 
 vidence would do a manifest injustice if it did not 
 take cognizance of his integrity and interfere to give 
 him the mitre. He was resolved to use no unworthy 
 means to secure it. He would make no promises, 
 offer no bribes — that is, to his fellow Canons, but he 
 promised a silver candlestick to St. Lambert, and 
 bribed St. Gertrude to intervene with the assurance 
 of a pilgrimage to her shrine. 
 
 We have mentioned only three of the candidates. 
 The fourth was Jep Mundelstrup, an old and amiable 
 man, who had not thrust himself forward, but had 
 been put forward by his friends, who considered him 
 sufficiently malleable to be moulded to their purposes. 
 
 Jep was, as has been said, old ; he was so old that 
 it was thought (and hoped), if chosen, his tenure of 
 office would be but brief. Four or five years — under 
 favourable circumstances, such as a changeable winter, 
 a raw spring with east winds — he might drop off even 
 sooner, and leave the mitre free for another scramble. 
 
 The Kings of Denmark no longer nominated to 
 the Sees, sent no conge d'ttire to the Chapter. They 
 did not even appoint to the Canonries. Consequently 
 the Canons had everything pretty much their own 
 way, and had only two things to consider, to guide 
 their determination — the good of the Church and 
 
140 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 their own petty interests. The expression " good of 
 the Church " demands comment. " The good of the 
 Church " was the motive, the only recognised motive, 
 on which the Chapter were supposed to act. Practi- 
 cally, however, it was non-existent as a motive. It 
 was a mere figure of speech used to cloak selfish 
 ambition. 
 
 From this sweeping characterisation we must, how- 
 ever, exclude Olaf Petersen, who did indeed regard 
 pre-eminently the good of the Church, but then that 
 good was, in his mind, inextricably involved with his 
 own fortunes. He was the man to make religion a 
 living reality. He was the man to bring the Church 
 back to primitive purity. He could not blind his 
 eyes to the fact that not one of the Canons beside 
 himself cared a farthing for spiritual matters ; there- 
 fore he desired the mitre for his own brows. 
 
 The conclave at which the election was to be made 
 was fixed for the afternoon of the day on which Henry 
 Strangebjerg was to be buried, and the burial was 
 appointed to take place as soon as was consistent 
 with decency. 
 
 The whole of the time between the death and the 
 funeral was taken up by the Canons with hurrying 
 to and from each other's residences, canvassing for 
 votes. 
 
 Olaf Petersen alone refrained from canvassing, he 
 spent his whole time in fasting and prayer, so anxious 
 was he for the welfare of the Church and the advance- 
 ment of true religion. 
 
 At length — Boom ! Boom ! Boom ! The great bell 
 of the minster tower summoned the Chapter to the 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 141 
 
 hall of conclave. Every Canon was in his place, 
 fifteen Canons and the provost, sixteen in all. It was 
 certain that the provost, although chairman, would 
 claim his right to vote, and exercise it, voting for 
 himself. It was ruled that all voting should be open, 
 for two reasons — that the successful candidate might 
 know who had given him their shoulders on which to 
 mount, and so reward these shoulders by laying many 
 benefices upon them, and secondly, that he might 
 know who had been his adversaries, and so might 
 exclude them from preferments. Every one believed 
 he would be on the winning side, no one supposed the 
 other alternative possible. 
 
 The candidates, as already intimated, were four. 
 Thomas Lange, the Dean, who belonged to a good, 
 though not wealthy family. He had been in business 
 before taking orders, and brought with him into the 
 Church practical shrewdness and business habits. 
 He had husbanded well the resources of the Chapter, 
 and had even enlarged its revenue by the purchase of 
 three farms and a manor. 
 
 The second candidate, Hartwig Juel, was a member 
 of a powerful noble family. His brother was at 
 Court and highly regarded by King Christian. His 
 election would gratify the king. Hartwig Juel was 
 Archdeacon. 
 
 The third candidate was the good old Jep Mundel- 
 strup ; and the fourth was the representative of the 
 ascetic, religious party, which was also the party of 
 reform, Olaf Petersen. 
 
 The Dean was, naturally, chairman. Before tak- 
 ing the chair he announced his intention of voting. 
 
142 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 The four candidates were proposed, and the votes 
 taken. 
 
 The Dean numbered 4. 
 
 Hartwig Juel numbered 4. 
 
 Jep Mundelstrup numbered 4. 
 
 Olaf Petersen numbered 4. 
 
 Moreover, each candidate had voted for himself. 
 
 What was to be done? The Chapter sat silent, 
 looking about them in each others' faces. 
 
 Then the venerable Jep Mundelstrup, assisted by 
 those who sat by him, staggered to his feet, and lean- 
 ing on his staff, he mumbled forth this address : " My 
 reverend brothers, it was wholly without my desire 
 and not in furtherance of any ambition of mine, that 
 my name was put up as that of a candidate for the 
 vacant mitre of the Holy See of Ribe. I am old and 
 infirm. With the patriarch Jacob I may say, ' Few 
 and evil have been the days of the years of my life/ 
 and I am not worthy to receive so great an honour. 
 Evil my days have been, because I have had only my 
 Canonry and one sorry living to support me ; and 
 there are comforts I should desire in my old age 
 which I cannot afford. My health is notsound. I shrink 
 from the responsibilities and labours of a bishopric* 
 If I withdraw my candidature, I feel confident that the 
 successful candidate will not forget my infirmities,. 
 and the facility I have afforded for his election. I 
 decline to stand, and at the same time, lest I should 
 seem to pose in opposition to three of my excellent 
 brethren, I decline also to vote." Then he sat down, 
 amidst general applause. 
 
 Here was an unexpected simplification of matters. 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 143- 
 
 The Dean and Hartwig Juel cast kindly, even affec- 
 tionate glances at those who had previously voted for 
 Jep, Olaf Petersen looked up to heaven and prayed. 
 
 Again, the votes were taken, and again the chair- 
 man claimed his right to vote. 
 
 When taken they stood thus : 
 
 The Dean, 5. 
 
 Hartwig Juel, 5. 
 
 Olaf Petersen, 5. 
 
 What was to be done ? Again the Chapter sat 
 silent, rubbing their chins, and casting furtive glances, 
 at each other. The Chapter was adjourned to the- 
 same hour on the morrow. The intervening hours, 
 were spent in negociations between the several parties,, 
 and attempts made by the two first in combination to> 
 force Olaf Petersen to resign his candidature. But 
 Olaf was too conscientious a man to do this. He 
 felt that the salvation of souls depended on his stay- 
 ing the plague like Phinehas with his censer. 
 
 Boom ! Boom ! Boom ! The Cathedral bell again 
 summoned the conclave to the Chapter House. 
 
 Before proceeding to business the Dean, as chair- 
 man, addressed the electors. He was an eloquent 
 man, and he set in moving words before them the 
 solemnity of the duty imposed on them, the im- 
 portance of considering only the welfare of the 
 Church, and the responsibility that would weigh on 
 them should they choose an unworthy prelate. He 
 conjured them in tones vibrating with pathos, to put 
 far from them all self-seeking thoughts, and to be 
 guided only by conscience. Then he sat down. The 
 votes were again taken. Jep Mundelstrup again. 
 
144 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 shaking his head, and refusing to vote. When counted, 
 they stood thus. 
 
 Thomas Lange, 5. 
 
 Hartwig Juel, 5. 
 
 Olaf Petersen, 5. 
 
 Then up started the Dean, very red in the face, 
 and said, " Really this is preposterous ! Are we to 
 continue this farce ? Some of the brethren must 
 yield for the general good. I would cheerfully with- 
 draw my candidature, but for one consideration. You 
 all know that the temporal affairs of the See have 
 fallen into confusion. Our late excellent prelate was 
 not a man of business, and there has been alienation, 
 and underletting, and racking out of church lands, 
 which I have marked with anxiety, and which I am 
 desirous to remedy. You all know that I have this 
 one good quality, I am a business man, understand 
 account keeping, and look sharp after the pecuniary 
 interests of the Chapter lands. It is essential that 
 the lands of the See should be attended to by some 
 practical man like myself, therefore I do not with- 
 draw from my candidature, but therefore only — " 
 
 Then up sprang Hartwig Juel, and said, " The very 
 Reverend the Dean has well said, this farce must 
 not continue. Some must yield if a bishop is to be 
 elected. I would cheerfully withdraw from candida- 
 ture but for one little matter. I hold in my hand a 
 letter received this morning from my brother, who 
 tells me that his most gracious majesty, King Chris- 
 tian, expressed himself to my brother in terms of 
 hope that I should be elected. You, my reverend 
 brothers, all know that we are living in a critical 
 
PETER NIELSEN. i 4s 
 
 time when it is most necessary that a close relation, a 
 cordial relation, should be maintained between the 
 Church and the State. Therefore, in the political 
 interests of the See, but only in these interests, I 
 cannot withdraw my candidature." 
 
 Then all eyes turned on Olaf Petersen. His face 
 was pale, his lips set. He stood up, and leaning 
 forward said firmly, " The pecuniary and the politi- 
 cal interests of the See are as nothing to me, its 
 spiritual interests are supreme. Heaven is my wit- 
 ness, I have no personal ambition to wear the mitre. 
 I know it will cause exhausting labour and terrible 
 responsibilities, from which I shrink. Nevertheless, 
 seeing as I do that this is a period in the history of 
 the Church when self-seeking and corruption have 
 penetrated her veins and are poisoning her life-blood, 
 seeing as I do that unless there be a revival of religion, 
 and an attempt at reform be made within the Church, 
 there will ensue such a convulsion as will overthrow 
 her, therefore, and only therefore do I feel that I can 
 not withdraw, from my candidature." 
 
 " Very well," said the Dean in a crusty tone. 
 " There is nothing for it but for us to vote again. 
 Now at least we have clear issues before us, the 
 temporal, the political, and the spiritual interests of 
 the Church." The votes were again taken, and stood 
 thus. 
 
 The temporal interests, 5. 
 
 The political interests, 5. 
 
 The spiritual interests, 5. 
 
 Here was a dead lock. It was clear that parties 
 were exactly divided, and that none would yield. 
 
 K 
 
146 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 After a pause of ten minutes, Jep Mundelstrup' 
 was again helped to his feet. He looked round the 
 Chapter with blinking eyes, and opened and shut his 
 mouth several times before he came to speak. At 
 last he said, in faltering tones, "My reverend brethren, 
 it is clear to me that my resignation has complicated, 
 rather than helped matters forward. Do not think I 
 am about to renew my candidature, that I am not, 
 but I am going to make a proposition to which I 
 hope you will give attentive hearing. If we go on in 
 this manner, we shall elect no one, and then his 
 Majesty, whom God bless, will step in and nominate. '* 
 
 " Hear, hear ! " from the adherents of Hartwig Juel. 
 
 " I do not for a moment pretend that the nominee 
 of his Majesty would not prove an excellent bishop, 
 but I do fear that a nomination by the crown would 
 be the establishment of a dangerous precedent." 
 
 "Hear! hear!" from the adherents of Olaf Petersen. 
 
 " At the same time it must be borne in mind that 
 the temporal welfare of the See ought to be put in 
 the hands of some one conversant with the condition 
 into which they have been allowed to lapse." 
 
 " Hear ! hear ! " from the adherents of Thomas 
 Lange. 
 
 " I would suggest, as we none of us can agree, that 
 we refer the decision to an umpire." 
 
 General commotion, and whispers, and looks of 
 alarm. 
 
 " How are we to obtain one at once conversant 
 with the condition of the diocese, and not a partizan?" 
 asked the Dean. 
 
 " There is a wretched little village in the midst of 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 147 
 
 the Roager Heath, cut off from communication with 
 the world, in which lives a priest named Peter Nielsen 
 on his cure, a man who is related to no one here, 
 belongs, I believe, to no gentle family, and, therefore, 
 would have no family interests one way or the other to 
 bias him. He has the character of being a shrewd man 
 of business, some of the estates of the Church are on 
 the Roager Heath, and he knows how they have been 
 treated, and I have always heard that he is a good 
 preacher and an indefatigable parish priest. Let him 
 be umpire. I can think of none other who would not 
 be a partizan." 
 
 The proposition was so extraordinary and unex- 
 pected that the Chapter, at first, did not know what 
 to think of it. Who was this Peter Nielsen ? No 
 one knew of him anything more than what Jep Mun- 
 delstrup had said, and he, it was believed, had drawn 
 largely on his imagination for his facts. Indeed, he 
 was the least known man among the diocesan clergy. 
 It was disputed whether he was a good preacher. 
 Who had heard him ? no one. Was it true that he 
 was not a gentleman by birth ? No one knew to 
 what family he belonged. In default of any other 
 solution to the dead lock in which the Chapter stood, 
 it was agreed by all that the selection of a bishop for 
 Ribe should be left to Peter Nielsen of Roager. 
 
 That same day, indeed as soon after the dissolution 
 of the meeting as was possible, one of the Canons 
 mounted his horse, and rode away to the Roager 
 Heath. 
 
 The village of Ro or Raa-ager, literally the rough 
 or barren field, lay in the dead flat of sandy heath 
 
148 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 that occupies so large a portion of the centre and 
 west coast of Jutland, and which goes by various 
 names, as Randboll Heath and Varde Moor. In 
 many places it is mere fen, where the water lies and 
 stagnates. In others it is a dry waste of sand strewn 
 with coarse grass and a few scant bushes. The 
 village itself consisted of one street of cottages 
 thatched with turf, and with walls built of the same, 
 heather and grass sprouting from the interstices of 
 the blocks. The church was little more dignified 
 than the hovels. It was without tower and bell. 
 Near the church was the parsonage. 
 
 The Canon descended from his cob; he had ridden 
 faster than was his wont, and was hot. He drew his 
 sleeve across his face and bald head, and then threw 
 the bridle over the gate-post. 
 
 In the door of the parsonage stood a short, stout, 
 rosy-faced, dark-eyed woman, with two little children 
 pulling at her skirts. This was Maren Grubbe, the 
 housekeeper of the pastor, at least that was her official 
 designation. She had been many years at Roager 
 with Peter Nielsen, and was believed to manage him 
 as well as the cattle and pigs and poultry of the glebe. 
 From behind her peered a shock-headed boy of about 
 eight years with a very dirty face and cunning eyes. 
 
 The Canon stood and looked at the woman, then 
 at the children, and the woman and children stood 
 and looked at him 
 
 " Is this the house of the priest, Peter Nielsen ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Certainly, do you want him?" inquired the house- 
 keeper. 
 
PETER NIELSEN. i 49 
 
 " I have come from Ribe to see him on diocesan 
 business." 
 
 : ' Step inside," said the housekeeper curtly. " His 
 reverence is not in the house at this moment, he is in 
 the church saying his offices." 
 
 Ji That's lies ! " shouted the dirty boy from behind. 
 /'Dada is in the pigstye setting a trap for the 
 rats." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Jens ! " exclaimed the woman, 
 giving the boy a cuff which knocked him over. Then 
 to the Canon she said, " Take a seat and I will go to 
 the church after him." 
 
 She went out with the two smaller children stap-o-er- 
 ing at her skirts, tumbling, picking themselves up, 
 going head over heels, crowing and squealing. 
 
 When she was outside the house, the dirty boy sat 
 upright on the floor, winked at the Canon, crooked 
 his fingers, and said, " Follow me, and I will show 
 you Dada." 
 
 ^-^The bald-headed ecclesiastic rose, and guided by 
 the boy went into a back room, through a small 
 window in which he saw into the pig-styes, and there, 
 without his coat, in a pair of stained and patched 
 breeches, and a blue worsted night-cap, over ankles 
 in filth, was the parish priest engaged in setting a 
 rat-trap. Outside, in the yard, the pigs were enjoying 
 their freedom. Leisurely round the corner came the 
 housekeeper with the satellites. " There, Peers ! " 
 said she, " There is a reverend gentleman from the 
 cathedral come after thee." 
 
 " Then," said the pastor, slowly rising, " do thou, 
 Maren, keep out of sight, and especially be careful 
 
ISO HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 not to produce the brats. Their presence opens the 
 door to misconstruction." 
 
 The Canon stole back to his seat, mopped his brow 
 and head, and thought to himself that the Chapter 
 had put the selection of a chief pastor into very queer 
 hands. The nasty little boy began to giggle and 
 snuffle • simultaneously. " Have you seen Dada ? 
 Dada saying his prayers in there." 
 
 " Who are you ? " asked the ecclesiastic stiffly of 
 the child. 
 
 " I'm Jens," answered the boy. 
 
 " I know you are Jens, I heard your mother 
 call you so. I presume that person is your 
 mother." 
 
 " That is my mother, but Dada is not my dada." 
 
 " O, Jens, boy, Jens ! Truth above all things. 
 Magna est Veritas et praevalebit." The Reverend 
 Peter Nielsen entered, clean, in a cassock, and with a 
 shovel hat on his head. 
 
 "The children whom you have seen," said 
 Peter Nielsen, "are the nephews and nieces of my 
 worthy housekeeper, Maria Grubbe. She is a chari- 
 table woman, and as her sister is very poor, and has 
 a large family, my Maren, I mean my housekeeper, 
 takes charge of some of the overflow."* 
 
 "It is a great burden to you," said the Canon. 
 
 Peter Nielsen shrugged his shoulders. "To clothe 
 
 * In Norway, Denmark, Sweden, and Iceland, clerical 
 celibacy was never enforced before the Reformation. Now 
 and then a formal prohibition was issued by the bishops, but it 
 was generally ignored. The clergy were married, openly and 
 undisguisedly. 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 151 
 
 the naked and give food to the hungry are deeds of 
 mercy." 
 
 " I quite understand, quite," said the Canon. 
 
 " I only mentioned it," continued the parish priest, 
 *' lest you should suppose — " 
 
 " I quite understand," said the Canon, interrupting 
 him, with a bow and a benignant smile. 
 
 'And now," said Peter Nielsen, "I am at your 
 service." 
 
 Thereupon the Canon unfolded to his astonished 
 hearer the nature of his mission. The pastor sat 
 listening attentively with his head bowed, and his 
 hands planted on his knees. Then, when his visitor 
 had done speaking, he thrust his left hand into his 
 trouser pocket and produced a palmful of carraway 
 seed. He put some into his mouth, and began to 
 chew it ; whereupon the whole room became scented 
 with carraway. 
 
 " I am fond of this seed," said the priest composedly, 
 whilst he turned over the grains in his hand with the 
 five fingers of his right. " It is good for the stomach, 
 and it clears the brain. So I understand that there 
 are three parties ? " 
 
 _^" Exactly, there is that of Olaf Petersen, a narrow, 
 uncompromising man, very sharp on the morals of 
 the clergy ; there is also that of the Dean, Thomas 
 Lange, an ambitious and scheming ecclesiastic ; and 
 there is lastly that of the Archdeacon Hartwig Juel, 
 one of the most amiable men in the world." 
 
 " And you incline strongly to the latter ? " 
 
 " I do — how could you discover that ? Juel is not 
 a man to forp;et a friend who has done him a favour." 
 
IS? HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 " Now, see ! " exclaimed Peter Nielsen, " See the 
 advantage of chewing carraway seed. Three minutes 
 ago I knew or recollected nothing about Hartwig 
 Juel, but I do now remember that five years ago he 
 passed through Roager, and did me the honour of 
 partaking of such poor hospitality as I was able to 
 give. I supplied him and his four attendants, and 
 six horses, with refreshment. Bless my soul ! the 
 efficacy of carraway is prodigious ! I can now recall 
 all that took place. I recollect that I had only hogs > 
 puddings to offer the Archdeacon, his chaplain, and 
 servants, and they ate up all I had. I remember also 
 that I had a little barrel of ale which I broached for 
 them, and they drank the whole dry. To be sure ! — 
 I had a bin of oats, and the horses consumed every 
 grain ! I know that the Archdeacon regretted that I 
 had no bell to my church, and that he promised to 
 send me one. He also assured me he would not 
 leave a stone unturned till he had secured for me a 
 better and more lucrative cure. I even sent a side of 
 bacon away with him as a present — but nothing came 
 of the promises. I ought to have given him a bushel 
 of carraway. You really have no notion of the 
 poverty of this living. I cannot now offer you any 
 other food than buck-wheat brose, as I have no meat 
 in the house. I can only give you water to drink as 
 I am without beer. I cannot even furnish you with 
 butter and milk, as I have not a cow." 
 "^ Not even a cow ! " exclaimed the Canon. " I 
 really am thankful for your having spoken so plainly 
 to me. I had no conception that your cure was so 
 poor. That the Archdeacon should not have fulfilled 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 153, 
 
 the promises he made you is due to forgetfulness. 
 Indeed, I assure you, for the last five years I have 
 repeatedly seen Hartwig Juel strike his brow and 
 exclaim, ' Something troubles me. I have made a 
 promise, and cannot recall it. This lies on my 
 conscience, and I shall have no peace till I recollect 
 and discharge it' This is plain fact." 
 
 " Take him a handful of carraway," urged the 
 parish priest. 
 
 " No — he will remember all when I speak to him,, 
 unaided by carraway." 
 
 " There is one thing T can offer you," said Peter 
 Nielsen, "a mug of dill-water." 
 
 " Dill-water ! what is that ? " 
 
 "It is made from carraway. It is given to infants 
 to enable them to retain their milk. It is good for 
 adults to make them recollect their promises." 
 
 "My dear good friend," said the Canon rising,. 
 " your requirements shall be complied with to- 
 morrow. I see you have excellent pasture here for 
 sheep. Have you any ? " 
 
 The parish priest shook his head. 
 
 " That is a pity. That however can be rectified. 
 Good-bye, rely on me. Qui pacem habet, se primum 
 fiacat." 
 
 When the Canon was gone, Peter Nielsen, who 
 had attended him to the door, turned, and found 
 Maren Grubbe behind him. 
 
 " I say, Peers ! " spoke the housekeeper, nudging- 
 him, "What is the meaning of all this? What was 
 that Latin he said as he went away ? " 
 
 " My dear, good Maren," answered the priest, " he 
 
154 HISTORIC ODDITIES* 
 
 quoted a saying familiar to us clergy. At the altar 
 is a little metal plate with a cross on it, and this is 
 called the Pax, or Peace. During the mass the priest 
 kisses it, and then hands it to his assistant, who kisses 
 it in turn and passes it on so throughout the attend- 
 ance. The Latin means this, ' Let him who has the 
 Pax bless himself with it before giving it out of his 
 hands/ and means nothing more than this: ' Charity 
 begins at Home,' or — put more boldly still, ' Look 
 out for Number I.' " 
 
 " Now, see here," said the housekeeper, " you have 
 been too moderate, Peers, you have not looked out 
 sufficiently for Number I. Leave the next comer to 
 me. No doubt that the Dean will send to you, in 
 like manner as the Archdeacon sent to-day." 
 
 "As you like, Maren, but keep the children in the 
 background. Charity that thinketh no ill, is an un- 
 common virtue." 
 
 - Next morning early there arrived at the parsonage 
 a waggon laden with sides of bacon, smoked beef, a 
 hogshead of prime ale, a barrel of claret, and several 
 sacks of wheat. It had scarcely been unloaded when 
 a couple of milch cows arrived ; half an hour later 
 came a drove of sheep. Peter Nielsen disposed of 
 everything satisfactorily about the house and glebe. 
 His eye twinkled, he rubbed his hands, and said to 
 himself with a chuckle, " He who blesses, blesses first 
 himself." 
 
 In the course of the morning a rider drew up at 
 the house door. Maren flattened her nose at the 
 little window of the guest-room, and scrutinized the 
 arrival before admitting him. Then she nodded her 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 155 
 
 head, and whispered to the priest to disappear. A 
 moment later she opened the door, and ushered a 
 stout red-faced ecclesiastic into the room. 
 
 "Is the Reverend Pastor at home?" he asked, 
 bowing to Maren Grubbe ; " I have come to see him 
 on important business." 
 
 " He is at the present moment engaged with a sick 
 parishioner. He will be here in a quarter of an hour. 
 He left word before going out, that should your 
 reverence arrive before his return — " 
 
 " What ! I was expected ! " 
 
 " The venerable the Archdeacon sent a deputation 
 to see my master yesterday, and he thought it pro- 
 bable that a deputation from the very Reverend the 
 Dean would arrive to-day." 
 
 " Indeed ! So Hartwig Juel has stolen a march on 
 us." 
 
 " Hartwig Juel had on a visit some little while ago 
 made promises to my master of a couple of cows, a 
 herd of sheep, some ale, wine, wheat, and so on, and 
 he took advantage of the occasion to send all these 
 things to us." 
 
 " Indeed ! Hartwig Juel's practice is sharp." 
 
 " Thomas Lange will make up no doubt for dila- 
 toriness." 
 
 " Humph • and Olaf Petersen, has he sent ? " 
 
 " His deputation will, doubtless, come to-morrow, 
 or even this afternoon." 
 
 The Canon folded his hands over his ample paunch, 
 and looked hard at Maren Grubbe. She was attired 
 in her best. Her cheeks shone like quarendon apples, 
 as red and glossy ; full of health — with a threat of 
 
156 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 temper, just as a hot sky has in it indications of a 
 tempest. Her eyes were dark as sloes, and looked as 
 sharp. She was past middle age, but ripe and strong; 
 for all that. 
 
 The fat Canon sat looking at her, twirling his 
 thumbs like a little windmill, over his paunch, with- 
 out speaking. She also sat demurely with her hands 
 flat on her knees, and looked him full and firm in the 
 face. 
 
 " I have been thinking," said the Canon, " how well 
 a set of silver chains would look about that neck, and 
 pendant over that ample bosom." 
 
 "Gold would look better," said Maren, and shut 
 her mouth again. 
 
 " And a crimson silk kerchief — " 
 
 " Would do," interrupted the housekeeper, " for one 
 who has not expectations of a crimson silk skirt." 
 
 " Quite so." A pause, and the windmills recom- 
 menced working. Presently squeals were heard in 
 the back premises. One of the children had fallen, 
 and hurt itself. 
 
 " Cats ? " asked the Canon. 
 
 " Cats," answered Maren. 
 
 " Quite so," said the Canon. " I am fond of cats.' 
 
 " So am I," said Maren. 
 „— Then ensued an uproar. The door burst open, and. 
 in tumbled little Jens with one child in his arms, the: 
 other clinging to the seat of his pantaloons. These 
 same articles of clothing had belonged to the Re- 
 verend Peter Nielsen, till worn out, when at the re- 
 quest of Maren, they had been given to her and cut 
 down in length for Jens. In length they answered. 
 
FETER NIELSEN. 157 
 
 The waistband was under the arms, indeed, but the 
 legs were not too long. In breadth and capacity they 
 were uncurtailed. 
 
 " I cannot manage them, mother," said the boy. 
 " It is of no use making me nurse. Besides, I want 
 to see the stranger." 
 
 " These children," said Maren, looking firmly in 
 the face of the Canon, " call me mother, but they are 
 the offspring of my sister, whose husband was lost 
 last winter at sea. Poor thing, she was left with 
 fourteen, and I — " 
 
 She put her apron to her eyes and wept. 
 
 " O, noble charity ! " said the fat priest enthusias- 
 tically. " You — I see it all — you took charge of the 
 little orphans. You sacrifice your savings for them, 
 your time is given to them. Emotion overcomes me. 
 What is their name ? " 
 
 " Katts." 
 
 " Cats ? " 
 
 "John Katts, and little Kristine and Sissely Katts." 
 
 " And the worthy pastor assists in supporting these 
 poor orphans ? " 
 
 " Yes, in spite of his poverty. And now we are on 
 this point, let me ask you if you have not been struck 
 with the meanness of this parsonage house. I can 
 assure you, there is not a decent room in it, upstairs 
 the chambers are open to the rafters, unceiled." 
 ^ " My worthy woman," said the Canon, " I will see 
 to this myself. Rely upon it, if the Dean becomes 
 Bishop, he will see that the manses of his best clergy 
 are put into thorough repair." 
 
 " I should prefer to see the repairs begun at once," 
 
158 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 said Maren. "When the Dean becomes Bishop he 
 will have so much to think about, that he might for- 
 get our parsonage house." 
 
 " Madam," said the visitor, as he rose, " they shall 
 be executed at once. When I see the charity shown 
 in this humble dwelling, by pastor and housekeeper 
 alike, I feel that it demands instantaneous acknow- 
 ledgment." 
 
 Then in came Peter Nielsen, and said, "I have not 
 sufficient cattle-sheds. Sheep yards are also needed." 
 
 " They shall be erected." 
 
 Then the Canon caught up little Kirsten and little 
 Sissel, and kissed their dirty faces. Maren's radiant 
 countenance assured the Canon that the cause of 
 Thomas Lange was won with Maren Grubbe. 
 
 He took the parish priest by the hand, pressed it, 
 and said in a low tone, " Qui pacem habet, se primum 
 pacat. You understand me ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," answered Peter Nielsen, with a smile. 
 
 Next morning early there arrived at Roager a party 
 of masons from Ribe, ready to pull down the old par- 
 sonage and build one more commodious and exten- 
 sive. The pastor went over the plans with the master 
 mason, suggested alterations and enlargements, and 
 then, with a chuckle, he muttered to himself, " That 
 is an excellent saying, Qui pacem habet, se primum 
 pacat." Then looking up, he saw before him an 
 ascetic, hollow-eyed, pale-faced priest. 
 
 " I am Olaf Petersen," said the new comer. " I 
 thought best to come over and see you myself; I 
 think the true condition of the Church ought to be 
 set before you, and that you should consider the 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 159, 
 
 spiritual welfare of the poor sheep in the Ribe fold, 
 and give them a chief pastor who will care for the 
 sheep and not for the wool." 
 
 " I have got a flock of sheep already," said Peter 
 Nielsen, coldly. " Hartwig Juel sent it me." 
 
 " I think," continued Olaf, " that you should con- 
 sider the edification of the spiritual building." 
 
 " I am going to have a new parsonage erected," 
 said Peter Nielsen, stiffly ; " Thomas Lange has seen 
 to that." 
 
 " The Bishop needed for this diocese," Olaf Peter- 
 sen went on, " should combine the harmlessness of 
 the dove with the wisdom of the serpent." 
 
 " If he does that," said Nielsen, roughly, " he will 
 be half knave and half fool. Let us have the wisdom,, 
 that is what we want now ; and one of the first 
 maxims of wisdom in Church and State is, Qui pacem 
 habet, se primum pacat. You take me ? " 
 
 Olaf sighed, and shook his head. 
 /-"-<' Do you see this plan," said Peter Nielsen. " I am 
 going to have a byre fashioned on that, with room for 
 a dozen oxen. I have but two cows ; stables for 
 two horses, I have not one ; a waggon shed, I am 
 without a wheeled conveyance. I shall have new 
 rooms, and have no furniture to put in them. Now, 
 to stock and furnish farm and parsonage will cost 
 much money. I have not a hundred shillings in the 
 world. What am I to do ? The man who would be~ 
 Bishop of Ribe should consider the welfare of one of 
 the most influential, learned, and moral of the priests 
 in the diocese, and do what he can to make him com- 
 fortable. Before we choose a cow we go over her,. 
 
160 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 feel her, examine her parts ; before we purchase a 
 horse we look at the teeth and explore the hoofs, and 
 try the wind. When we select a bishop we natur- 
 ally try the stuff of which he is made, if liberal, 
 generous, open-handed, amiable. - You understand 
 me ? 
 
 X)laf sighed, and drops of cold perspiration stood 
 on his brow. A contest was going on within. Simony 
 was a mortal sin. Was there a savour of 'simony in 
 offering a present to the man in whose hands the 
 choice of a chief pastor lay ? He feared so. But 
 then — did not the end sometimes justify the means ? 
 As these questions rose in his mind and refused to be 
 answered, something heavy fell at his feet. His hand 
 had been plucking at his purse, and in his nervous- 
 ness he had detached it from his girdle, and had let 
 it slip through his fingers. He did not look down. 
 He seemed not to notice his loss, but he moved away 
 without another word, with bent head and troubled 
 conscience. When he was gone, Peter Nielsen bowed 
 himself, picked up the pouch, counted the gold coins 
 in it, laughed, rubbed his hands, and said, "/He who 
 blesses, blesses first himself." 
 
 Next day a litter stayed at the parsonage gate, and 
 out of it, with great difficulty, supported on the arms 
 ■of two servants, came the aged Jep Mundelstrup. 
 He entered the guest-room and was accommodated 
 with a seat. When he got his breath, he said, extend- 
 ing a roll of parchment to the incumbent of Roager, 
 " You will not fail to remember that it was at my 
 suggestion that the choice of a bishop was left with 
 you. You are deeply indebted to me. But for me 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 161 
 
 you would not have been visited and canvassed by 
 the Dean, the Arch-deacon, and the Ascetic, either in 
 person or by their representatives. You will please 
 to remember that I was nominated, but seeing so 
 many others proposed, I withdrew my name. I think 
 you will allow that this exhibited great humility and 
 shrinking from honour. In these worldly, self-seeking 
 days such an example deserves notice and reward. 
 I am old, and perhaps unequal to the labours of office, 
 but I think I ought to be considered ; although I did 
 formally withdraw my candidature, I am not sure 
 that I would refuse the mitre were it pressed on me. 
 At all events it would be a compliment to offer it me 
 and I might refuse it. Qui pacem habet, se primum 
 pacat. You will not regret the return courtesy." 
 
 Boom ! Boom ! Boom ! The cathedral bell was 
 summoning all Ribe to the minster to be present at 
 the nomination of its bishop. All Ribe answered the 
 summons. 
 
 The cathedral stands on a hill called the Mount of 
 Lilies, but the mount is of so slight an elevation that 
 it does not protect the cathedral from overflow, and a 
 spring tide with N.W. wind has been known to flood 
 both town and minster and leave fishes on the sacred 
 floor. The church is built of granite, brick and sand- 
 stone; originally the contrast may have been striking, 
 but weather has smudged the colours together into an 
 ugly brown-grey. The tower is lofty, narrow, and 
 wanting a spire. It resembles a square ruler set up 
 on end ; it is too tall for its base. The church is 
 stately, of early architecture with transepts, and the 
 
1 62 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 choir at their intersection with the nave, domed over, 
 and a small semi-circular apse beyond, for the altar. 
 The nave was crowded, the canons occupied the stalls 
 in their purple tippets edged with crimson ; purple, 
 because the chapter of a cathedral ; crimson edged, 
 because the founder of the See was a martyr. Fifteen, 
 and the Dean, sixteen in all, were in their places. 
 On the altar steps, in the apse, in the centre, sat Peter 
 Nielsen in his old, worn cassock, without surplice. 
 On the left side of the altar stood the richly-sculptured 
 Episcopal throne, and on the seat was placed the 
 jewelled mitre, over the arm the cloth of gold cope 
 was cast, and against the back leaned the pastoral 
 crook of silver gilt, encrusted with precious stones. 
 
 When the last note of the bell sounded, the Dean 
 rose from his stall, and stepping up to the apse, made 
 oath before heaven, the whole congregation and Peter 
 Nielsen, that he was prepared to abide by the decision 
 of this said Peter, son of Nicolas, parish priest of 
 Roager. Amen. He was followed by the Arch- 
 deacon, then by each of the canons to the last. 
 
 Then mass was said, during which the man in 
 whose hands the fortunes of the See reposed, knelt 
 with unimpassioned countenance and folded hands. 
 
 At the conclusion he resumed his seat, the crucifix 
 was brought forth and he kissed it. 
 /~-A moment of anxious silence. The moment for 
 the decision had arrived. He remained for a short 
 while seated, with his eyes fixed on the ground, then 
 he turned them on the anxious face of the Dean, and 
 after having allowed them to rest scrutinisingly there 
 for a minute, he looked at Hartwig Juel, then at Olaf 
 
PETER NIELSEN. 163 
 
 Petersen, who was deadly white, and whose frame 
 shook like an aspen leaf. Then he looked long at 
 Jep Mundelstrup and rose suddenly to his feet. 
 
 The fall of a pin might have been heard in the 
 cathedral at that moment. 
 
 He said — and his voice was distinctly audible by 
 every one present — " I have been summoned here 
 from my barren heath, into this city, out of a poor 
 hamlet, by these worthy and reverend fathers, to 
 choose for them a prelate who shall be at once careful 
 of the temporal and the spiritual welfare of the See. 
 I have scrupulously considered the merits of all those 
 who have been presented to me as candidates for the 
 mitre. I find that in only one man are all the re- 
 quisite qualities combined in proper proportion and 
 degree — not in Thomas Lange," the Dean's head fell 
 on his bosom, " nor in Hartvvig Juel," the Archdeacon 
 sank back in his stall ; " nor in Olaf Petersen," the 
 man designated uttered a faint cry and dropped on 
 his knees, " nor in Jep Mundelstrup — but in myself. 
 I therefore nominate Peter, son of Nicolas, commonly 
 called Nielsen, Curate of Roager, to be Bishop of 
 Ribe, twenty-ninth in descent from Liafdag the 
 martyr. Qui pacem habet, se primum pacat. Amen. 
 He who has to bless, blesses first himself." 
 
 Then he sat down. 
 
 For a moment there was silence, and then a storm 
 broke loose. Peter sat motionless, with his eyes 
 fixed on the ground, motionless as a rock round 
 which the waves toss and tear themselves to foam. 
 
 Thus it came about that the twenty-ninth bishop 
 of Ribe was Peter Nielsen. 
 
Zhe Wonfcer-Worfcins prince 
 Ibobenlobe. 
 
 In the year 1821, much interest was excited in Ger- 
 many and, indeed, throughout Europe by the report 
 that miracles of healing were being wrought by Prince 
 Leopold Alexander of Hohenlohe-Waldenburg-Schil- 
 lingsfttrst at Wtirzburg, Bamberg, and elsewhere. 
 The wonders soon came to an end, for, after the 
 ensuing year, no more was heard of his extraordinary 
 powers. 
 
 At the time, as might be expected, his claims to be 
 a miracle-worker were hotly disputed, and as hotly 
 asserted. Evidence was produced that some of his 
 miracles were genuine ; counter evidence was brought 
 forward reducing them to nothing. 
 
 The whole story of Prince Hohenlohe's sudden 
 blaze into fame, and speedy extinction, is both curi- 
 ous and instructive. In the Baden village of Wittig- 
 hausen, at the beginning of this century, lived a 
 peasant named Martin Michel, owning a farm, and in 
 fairly prosperous circumstances. His age, according 
 to one authority, was fifty, according to another sixty- 
 seven, when he became acquainted with Prince Ho- 
 henlohe. This peasant was unquestionably a devout, 
 guileless man. He had been afflicted in youth with 
 a rupture, but, in answer to continuous and earnest 
 prayer, he asserted that he had been completely 
 
PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 165 
 
 healed. Then, for some while he prayed over other 
 afflicted persons, and it was rumoured that he had 
 effected several miraculous cures. He emphatically 
 and earnestly repudiated every claim to superior 
 sanctity. The cures, he declared, depended on the 
 faith of the patient, and on the power of the Almighty. 
 The most solemn promises had been made in the 
 gospel to those who asked in faith, and all he did 
 was to act upon these evangelical promises. 
 
 The Government speedily interfered, and Michel 
 was forbidden by the police to work any more mir- 
 acles by prayer or faith, or any other means except 
 the recognised pharmacopceia. 
 
 He had received no payment for his cures in money 
 or in kind, but he took occasion through them to im- 
 press on his patients the duty of prayer, and the 
 efficacy of faith. 
 
 By some means he met Prince Alexander Hohen- 
 lohe, and the prince was interested and excited by 
 what he heard, and by the apparent sincerity of the 
 man. A few days later the prince was in Wtirzburg, 
 where he called on the Princess Mathilde Schwarzen- 
 berg, a young girl of seventeen who was a crippkj 
 and who had already spent a year and a half at 
 Wtirzburg, under the hands of the orthopaedic 
 physician Heine, and the surgeon Textor. She had 
 been to the best medical men in Vienna and Paris, and 
 the case had been given up as hopeless. Then Prince 
 Schwarzenberg placed her under the treatment of 
 Heine. She was so contracted, with her knees drawn 
 up to her body, that she could neither stand nor walk. 
 ^-Prince Hohenlohe first met her at dinner, on June 
 
166 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 18, 1821, and the sight of her distortion filled him 
 with pity. He thought over her case, and com- 
 municated with Michel, who at his summons came to 
 Wtirzburg. As Wtirzburg is in Bavaria, the orders of 
 the Baden Government did not extend to it, and the 
 peasant might freely conduct his experiments there. 
 
 Prince Alexander called on the Princess at ten 
 o'clock in the morning of June 20, taking with him 
 Michel, but leaving him outside the house, in the 
 court. Then Prince Hohenlohe began to speak to 
 the suffering girl of the power of faith, and mentioned 
 the wonders wrought by the prayers of Michel. She 
 became interested, and the Prince asked her if she 
 would like to put the powers of Michel to the test, 
 warning her that the man could do nothing unless she 
 had full and perfect belief in the mercy of God. The 
 Princess expressed her eagerness to try the new 
 remedy and assured her interrogator that she had the 
 requisite faith. Thereupon he went to the window, 
 and signed to the peasant to come up. 
 
 What follows shall be given in the Princess's own 
 words, from her account written a day or two later : — 
 "The peasant knelt down and prayed in German 
 aloud and distinctly, and, after his prayer, he said to 
 me, ' In the Name of Jesus, stand up. You are 
 whole, and can both stand and walk ! ' The peasant 
 and the Prince then went into an adjoining room, and 
 T rose from my couch, without assistance, in the name 
 of God, well and sound, and so I have continued to 
 *this moment." 
 
 A much fuller and minuter account of the proceed- 
 ings was published, probably from the pen of the 
 
PRINCE I10HENL0HE. 167 
 
 governess, who was present at the time ; but as it is 
 anonymous we need not concern ourselves with it. 
 ^vThe news of the miraculous recovery spread through 
 the town ; Dr. Heine heard of it, and ran to the 
 house, and stood silent and amazed at what he saw. 
 The Princess descended the stone staircase towards 
 the garden, but hesitated, and, instead of going into 
 the garden, returned upstairs, leaning on the arm of 
 Prince Hohenlohe. 
 
 Next day was Corpus Christi. The excitement in 
 the town was immense, when the poor cripple, who 
 had been seen for more than a year carried into her 
 carriage and carried out of it into church, walked to 
 church, and thence strolled into the gardens of the 
 palace. 
 
 On the following day she visited the Julius 
 Hospital, a noble institution founded by one of the 
 bishops of Wiirzburg. On the 24th she called on the 
 Princess Lichtenstein, the Duke of Aremberg, and 
 the Prince of Baar, and moreover, attended a sermon 
 preached by Prince Hohenlohe in the Haugh parish 
 church. Her recovery was complete. 
 
 Now, at first sight, nothing seems more satisfactorily 
 established than this miracle. Let us, however, see 
 what Dr. Heine, who had attended her for nineteen 
 months, had to say on it. We cannot quote his 
 account in its entirety, as it is long, but we will take 
 the principal points in it : — "The Princess of 
 Schwarzenberg came under my treatment at the end 
 of October, 1819, afflicted with several abnormities of 
 the thorax, with a twisted spine, ribs, &c. Moreover, 
 she could not rise to her feet from a sitting posture* 
 
168 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 nor endure to be so raised ; but this was not in con- 
 sequence of malformation or weakness of the system, 
 for when sitting or lying down she could freely move 
 her limbs. She complained of acute pain when 
 placed in any other position, and when she was made 
 to assume an angle of ioo° her agony became so 
 intense that her extremities were in a nervous quiver, 
 and partial paralysis ensued, which, however, ceased 
 when she was restored to her habitual contracted 
 position. 
 
 " The Princess lost her power of locomotion when 
 she was three years old, and the contraction was the 
 result of abscesses on the loins. She was taken to 
 France and Italy, and got so far in Paris as to be able 
 to hop about a room supported on crutches. But she 
 suffered a relapse on her return to Vienna in 1813, 
 and thenceforth was able neither to stand nor to 
 move about. She was placed in my hands, and I 
 contrived an apparatus by which the angle at which 
 she rested was gradually extended, and her position 
 gradually changed from horizontal to vertical. At 
 the same time I manipulated her almost daily, and 
 had the satisfaction by the end of last April to see 
 her occupy an angle of 50°, without complaining of 
 suffering. By the close of May further advance was 
 made, and she was able to assume a vertical position, 
 with her feet resting on the ground, but with her body 
 supported, and to remain in this position for four or 
 five hours. Moreover, in this situation I made her go 
 through all the motions of walking. The extremities 
 had, in every position, retained their natural muscular 
 powers and movements, and the contraction was 
 
PRINCE HOHESLOHE. 169 
 
 simply a nervous affection. I made no attempt to 
 force her to walk unsupported, because I would not 
 do this till I was well assured such a trial would not 
 be injurious to her. 
 
 /--" On the 30th of May I revisited her, after having 
 been unable, on account of a slight indisposition, to 
 see my patients for several days. Her governess then 
 told me that the Princess had made great progress. 
 She lay at an angle of 8o°. The governess placed 
 herself at the foot of the couch, held out her hands to 
 the Princess, and drew her up into an upright position, 
 and she told me that this had been done several 
 times of late during my enforced absence. Whilst 
 she was thus standing I made the Princess raise and 
 depress her feet, and go through all the motions of 
 walking. Immediately on my return home I set to 
 work to construct a machine which might enable her 
 to walk without risk of a fall and of hurting herself. 
 On the 19th of June, in the evening, I told the 
 Princess that the apparatus was nearly finished. 
 Next day, a little after 10 A.M., I visited her. When 
 I opened her door she rose up from a chair in which 
 she was seated, and came towards me with short, 
 somewhat uncertain steps. I bowed myself, in token 
 of joy and thanks to God. 
 
 v-4' At that moment a gentleman I had never seen 
 before entered the room and exclaimed, ' Mathilde I 
 you have had faith in God !' The Princess replied,. 
 ' I have had, and I have now, entire faith.' The 
 gentleman said, ' Your faith has saved and healed 
 you. God has succoured you.' Then I began to 
 suspect that some strange influence was at work, and 
 
5 70 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 that something had been going on of which I was 
 not cognizant. I asked the gentleman what was the 
 meaning of this. He raised his right hand to heaven, 
 and replied that he had prayed and thought of the 
 Princess that morning at mass, and that Prince 
 Wallerstein was privy to the whole proceeding. I 
 was puzzled and amazed. Then I asked the Princess 
 to walk again. She did so, and shortly after I left, 
 and only then did I learn that the stranger was the 
 Prince of Hohenlohe. 
 
 "Next month, on July 21, her aunt, the Princess 
 Eleanor of Schwarzenberg, came with three of the 
 sisters of Princess Mathilde to fetch her away and to 
 take her back to her father. Her Highness did me 
 the honour of visiting me along with the Princesses 
 on the second day after their arrival, to thank me for 
 the pains I had taken to cure the Princess Mathilde. 
 Before they left, Dr. Schafer, who had attended her 
 at Ratisbon, Herr Textor, and myself were allowed 
 to examine the Princess. Dr. Schafer found that the 
 condition of the thorax was mightily improved since 
 she had been in my hands. I, however, saw that her 
 condition had retrograded since I had last seen her 
 on June 20, and it was agreed that the Princess was 
 to occupy her extension-couch at night, and by day 
 wear the steel apparatus for support I had contrived 
 for her. At the same time Dr. Schafer distinctly 
 assured her and the Princess, her aunt, that under my 
 management the patient had recovered the power of 
 walking before the 19th of June." 
 
 This account puts a different complexion on the 
 cure, and shows that it was not in any way miracu- 
 
PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 171 
 
 lous. The Prince and the peasant stepped in and 
 snatched the credit of having cured the Princess from 
 the doctor, to whom it rightly belonged. 
 \ Before we proceed, it will be well to say a few 
 words about this Prince Alexander Hohenlohe. The 
 Hohenlohe family takes its name from a bare elevated 
 plateau in Franconia. About the beginning of the 
 1 6th century it broke into two branches ; the elder is 
 Hohenlohe-Neuenstein, the younger is Hohenlohe- 
 Waldenburg. 
 
 The elder branch has its sub-ramifications — Hohen- 
 lohe-Langenburg, which possesses also the county of 
 Gleichen ; and the Hohenlohe-Oehringen and the 
 Hohenlohe -Kirchberg sub-branches. The second 
 main branch of Hohenlohe-Waldenburg has also its 
 lateral branches, as those of Hohenlohe-Bartenstein 
 and Hohenlohe-Schillingsfurst; the last of these being 
 Catholic. 
 
 |v Prince Leopold Alexander was born in 1794 at 
 Kupferzell, near Waldenburg, and was the eighteenth 
 child of Prince Karl Albrecht and his wife Judith, 
 Baroness Reviczky. His father never became reign- 
 ing prince, from intellectual incapacity, and Alex- 
 ander lost him when he was one year old. He was 
 educated for the Church by the ex-Jesuit Riel, and 
 went to school first in Vienna, then at Berne; in 18 10 
 he entered the Episcopal seminary at Vienna, and 
 finished his theological studies at Elhvangen in 18 14. 
 He was ordained priest in 18 16, and went to Rome. 
 
 Dr. Wolff, the father of Sir Henry Drummond 
 Wolff, in his "Travels and Adventures," which is 
 really his autobiography, says (vol i. p. 31) : — 
 
172 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 .AWolff left the house of Count Stolberg on the 3rd 
 April, 181 5, and went to Ellwangen, and there met 
 again an old pupil from Vienna, Prince Alexander 
 Hohenlohe-Schillingsfiirst, afterwards so celebrated 
 for his miracles — to which so many men of the 
 highest rank and intelligence have borne witness that 
 Wolff dares not give a decided opinion about them. 
 But Niebuhr relates that the Pope said to him him- 
 self, speaking about Hohenlohe in a sneering manner,. 
 ' Questo far dei miracoli ! ' This fellow performing 
 miracles ! 
 
 " It may be best to offer some slight sketch of 
 Hohenlohe's life. His person was beautiful. He was 
 placed under the direction of Vock, the Roman 
 Catholic parish priest at Berne. One Sunday he was 
 invited to dinner with Vock, his tutor, at the Spanish 
 ambassador's. The next day there was a great noise 
 in the Spanish embassy, because the mass-robe, with 
 the silver chalice and all its appurtenances, had been 
 stolen. It was advertised in the paper, but nothing 
 could be discovered, until Vock took Prince Hohen- 
 lohe aside, and said to him, ' Prince, confess to me ;. 
 have you not stolen the mass-robe ? ' He at once 
 confessed it, and said that he made use of it every 
 morning in practising the celebration of the mass in 
 his room ; which was true." (This 1 was when Hohen- 
 lohe was twenty-one years old.) " He was afterwards 
 sent to Tyrnau, to the ecclesiastical seminary in 
 Hungary, whence he was expelled, on account of 
 levity. But, being a Prince, the Chapter of Olmlitz,. 
 in Moravia, elected him titulary canon of the cathe- 
 dral ; nevertheless, the Emperor Francis was too 
 
PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 173 
 
 honest to confirm it. Wolff taught him Hebrew in 
 Vienna. He had but little talent for languages, but 
 his conversation on religion was sometimes very 
 charming ; and at other times he broke out into most 
 indecent discourses. He was ordained priest, and 
 Sailer 1 preached a sermon on the day of his ordina- 
 tion, which was published under the title of ' The 
 Priest without Reproach.' On the same day money 
 was collected for building a Roman Catholic Church 
 at Zurich, and the money collected was given to 
 Prince Hohenlohe, to be remitted to the parish priest 
 of Zurich (Moritz Mayer) ; but the money never 
 reached its destination. Wolff saw him once at the 
 bed of the sick and dying, and his discourse, exhorta- 
 tions, and treatment of these sick people were 
 wonderfully beautiful. W T hen he mounted the pulpit 
 to preach, one imagined one saw a saint of the 
 Middle Ages. His devotion was penetrating, and 
 commanded silence in a church where there were 
 4,000 people collected. Wolff one day called on him, 
 when Hohenlohe said to him, ' I never read any other 
 book than the Bible. I never look in a sermon-book 
 by anybody else, not even at the sermons of Sailer.' 
 But Wolff after this heard him preach, and the whole 
 sermon was copied from one of Sailer's, which Wolff 
 had read only the day before. 
 
 " With all his faults, Hohenlohe cannot be charged 
 with avarice, for he give away every farthing he got, 
 perhaps even that which he obtained dishonestly. 
 
 1 Johann M. Sailer was a famous ex-Jesuit preacher, at this 
 time Professor at the University of Landshut, afterwards Bishop 
 of Ratisbon. He died, 1832. 
 
174 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 They afterwards met at Rome, where Hohenlohe 
 lodged with the Jesuits, and there it was said he com- 
 posed a Latin poem. Wolff, knowing his incapacity 
 to do such a thing, asked him boldly, ' Who is the 
 author of this poem ? ' Hohenlohe confessed at once 
 that it was written by a Jesuit priest. At that time 
 Madame Schlegel wrote to Wolff: ' Prince Hohenlohe 
 is a man who struggles with heaven and hell, and 
 heaven will gain the victory with him.' Hohenlohe 
 was on the point of being made a bishop at Rome, 
 but, on the strength of his previous knowledge of him, 
 Wolff protested against his consecration. Several 
 princes, amongst them Kaunitz, the ambassador, took 
 Hohenlohe's part on this occasion ; but the matter 
 was investigated, and Hohenlohe walked off from ' 
 Rome without being made a bishop. In his protest 
 against the man, Wolff stated that Hohenlohe's pre- 
 tensions to being a canon of Olmiitz were false ; that 
 he had been expelled the seminary of Tyrnau ; that 
 he sometimes spoke like a saint, and at others like a 
 profligate." 
 
 . — .And now let us return to Wtirzburg, and see the 
 result of the cure of Princess Schwarzenberg. The 
 people who had seen the poor cripple one day carried 
 into her carriage and into church, and a day or two 
 after saw her walk to church and in the gardens, and 
 who knew nothing of Dr. Heine's operations, con- 
 cluded that this was a miracle, and gave the credit of 
 it quite as much to Prince Hohenlohe as to the 
 peasant Michel. 
 
 ! The police at once sent an official letter to the 
 
 Prince, requesting to be informed authoritatively what 
 
PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 175 
 
 he had done, by what right he had interfered, and how 
 he had acted. He replied that he had done nothing-, 
 faith and the Almighty had wrought the miracle. 
 " The instantaneous cure of the Princess is a fact r 
 which cannot be disputed ; , it was the result of a 
 living faith. That is the truth. It happened to the 
 Princess according to her faith." The peasant Michel 
 now fell into the background, and was forgotten, and 
 the Prince stood forward as the worker of miraculous 
 cures. Immense excitement was caused by the re- 
 storation of the Princess Schwarzenberg, and patients 
 streamed into Wtirzburg from all the country round, 
 seeking health at the hands of Prince Alexander. 
 The local papers published marvellous details of his 
 successful cures. The blind saw, the lame walked, 
 the deaf heard. Among the deaf who recovered was 
 His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Bavaria, 
 three years later King Ludwig L, grandfather of the 
 late King of Bavaria. Unfortunately we have not 
 exact details of this cure, but a letter of the Crown 
 Prince written shortly after merely states that he 
 heard better than before. Now the spring of 1821 
 was very raw and wet, and about June 20 there set in 
 some dry hot weather. It is therefore quite possible 
 that the change of weather may have had to do with 
 this cure. However, we can say nothing for certain 
 about it, as no data were published, merely the 
 announcement that the Crown Prince had recovered 
 his hearing at the prayer of Prince Hohenlohe. Here 
 are some better-authenticated cases, as given by Herr 
 Scharold, an eye-witness ; he was city councillor and 
 secretary. 
 
176 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 Ji-^he Prince had dined at midday with General 
 
 von D . All the entrances to the house from two 
 
 streets were blocked by hundreds of persons, and 
 they said that he had already healed four individuals 
 crippled with rheumatism in this house. I convinced 
 myself on the spot that one of these cases was as 
 said. The patient was the young wife of a fisherman, 
 who was crippled in the right hand, so that she could 
 not lift anything with it, or use it in any way ; and 
 all at once she was enabled to raise a heavy chair, 
 with the hand hitherto powerless, and hold it aloft. 
 She went home weeping tears of joy and thankfulness. 
 *— " The Prince was then entreated to go to another 
 house, at another end of the town, and he consented. 
 There he found many paralysed persons. He began 
 with a poor man whose left arm was quite useless 
 and stiff. After he had asked him if he had perfect 
 faith, and had received a satisfactory answer, the 
 Prince prayed with folded hands and closed eyes. 
 Then he raised the kneeling patient ; and said, ' Move 
 your arm.' Weeping and trembling in all his limbs 
 the man did as he was bid ; but as he said that he 
 obeyed with difficulty, the Prince prayed again, and 
 said, 'Now move your arm again.' This time the 
 man easily moved his arm forwards, backwards, and 
 raised it. The cure was complete. Equally success- 
 ful was he with the next two cases. One was a 
 tailor's wife, named Lanzamer. ' What do you 
 want ? ' asked the Prince, who was bathed in perspir- 
 ation. Answer : ' I have had a paralytic stroke, and 
 have lost the use of one side of my body, so that I 
 cannot walk unsupported.' ' Kneel down ! ' But 
 
PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 177 
 
 this could only be effected with difficulty, and it was 
 rather a tumbling down of an inert body, painful to 
 behold. I never saw a face more full of expression 
 of faith in the strongly marked features. The Prince, 
 deeply moved, prayed with great fervour, and then 
 said, ' Stand up ! ' The good woman, much agitated, 
 was unable to do so, in spite of all her efforts, without 
 the assistance of her boy, who was by her, crying, and 
 then her lame leg seemed to crack. When she had 
 reached her feet, he said, ' Now walk the length of 
 the room without pain.' She tried to do so, but suc- 
 ceeded with difficulty, yet with only a little suffering. 
 Again he prayed, and the healing was complete ; she 
 walked lightly and painlessly up and down, and finally 
 out of the room ; and the boy, crying more than be- 
 fore, but now with joy, exclaimed, ' O my God ! 
 mother can walk, mother can walk ! ' Whilst this 
 was going on, an old woman, called Siebert, wife of a 
 bookbinder, who had been brought in a sedan-chair, 
 was admitted to the room. She suffered from para- 
 lysis and incessant headaches that left her neither 
 night nor day. The first attempt made to heal her 
 failed. The second only brought on the paroxysm of 
 headache worse than ever, so that the poor creature 
 could hardly keep her feet or open her eyes. The 
 Prince began to doubt her faith, but when she assured 
 him of it, he prayed again with redoubled earnestness. 
 And, all at once, she was cured. This woman left 
 the room, conducted by her daughter, and all present 
 were filled with astonishment." This account was 
 written on June 26. On June 28 Herr Scharold 
 wrote a further account of other cures he had wit- 
 
A 
 
 178 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 nessed ; but those already given are sufficient. That 
 this witness was convinced and sincere appears from 
 his description, but how far valuable his evidence is 
 we are not so well assured. 
 
 ^ A curious little pamphlet was published the same 
 year at Darmstadt, entitled, " Das Mahrchen vom 
 Wunder," that professed to be the result of the ob- 
 servations of a medical man who attended one or two 
 of these seances. Unfortunately the pamphlet is an- 
 onymous, and this deprives it of most of its authority. 
 Another writer who attacked the genuineness of the 
 miracles was Dr. Paulus, in his " Quintessenz aus den 
 Wundercurversuchen durch Michel und Hohenlohe," 
 Leipzig, 1822 ; but this author also wrote anony- 
 mously, and did not profess to have seen any of the 
 cures. On the other hand, Scharold and a Dr. Ony- 
 mus, and two or three priests published their testi- 
 monies as witnessess to their genuineness, and gave 
 the names and particulars of those cured. 
 
 Those who assailed the Prince and his cures dipped 
 their pens in gall. It is only just to add that they 
 cast on his character none of the reflections for 
 honesty which Dr. Wolff flung on him. 
 
 The author of the Darmstadt pamphlet, mentioned 
 above, says that when he was present the Prince was 
 attended by two sergeants of police, as the crowd 
 thronging on him was so great that he needed pro- 
 tection from its pressure. He speaks sneeringly of 
 him as spending his time in eating, smoking, and 
 miracle-working, when not sleeping, and says he was 
 plump and good-looking, " A girl of eighteen, who 
 was paralysed in her limbs, was brought from a car- 
 
PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 179 
 
 riage to the feet of the prophet. After he had asked 
 her if she believed, and he had prayed for about 
 twelve seconds, he exclaimed in a threatening rather 
 than gentle voice, ' You are healed ! ' But I ob- 
 served that he had to thunder this thrice into the ear 
 of the frightened girl, before she made an effort to 
 move, which was painful and distressing ; and, groan- 
 ing and supported by others, she made her way to 
 the rear. 'You will be better shortly — only believe!' 
 he cried to her. I, who was looking on, observed her 
 conveyed away as much a cripple as she came. 
 
 " The next case was a peasant of fifty-eight, a cripple 
 on crutches. Without his crutches he was doubled up, 
 and could only shuffle with his feet on the ground. 
 After the Prince had asked the usual questions and 
 had prayed, he ordered the kneeling man to stand up, 
 his crutches having been removed. As he was un- 
 able to do so, the miracle-worker seemed irritated, 
 and repeated his order in an angry tone. One of the 
 policemen at the side threw in ' Up ! in the name of 
 the Trinity,' and pulled him to his feet. The man 
 seemed bewildered. He stood, indeed, but doubled 
 as before, and the sweat streamed from his face, and 
 he was not a ha'porth better than previously ; but as 
 he had come with crutches, and now stood without 
 them, there arose a shout of ' A miracle ! ' and all 
 pressed round to congratulate the poor wretch. His 
 son helped him away. ' Have faith and courage ! ' 
 cried to him the Prince ; and the policeman added, 
 ' Only believe, and rub in a little spirits of camphor ! ' 
 Many pressed alms into the man's hand, and he 
 smiled ; this was regarded as a token of his perfect 
 
180 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 cure. I saw, however, that his knees were as stiff as 
 before, and that the rogue cast longing eyes at his 
 crutches, which had been taken away, but which he 
 insisted on having back. No one thought of asking 
 how it fared with the poor wretch later, and, as a fact, 
 he died shortly after. 
 
 " The next to come up was a deaf girl of eighteen. 
 The wonder-worker was bathed in perspiration, and evi- 
 dently exhausted with his continuous prayer night 
 and day. After a few questions as to the duration of 
 her infirmity, the Prince prayed, then signed a cross 
 over the girl, and, stepping back from her, asked her 
 questions, at each in succession somewhat lowering 
 his tone ; but she only heard those spoken as loudly 
 as before the experiment was made, and she remained 
 for the most part staring stupidly at the wonder- 
 worker. To cut the matter short, he declared her 
 healed. I took the mother aside soon after, and in- 
 quired what was the result. She assured me that the 
 girl heard no better than before. 
 
 " In her place came a stone-deaf man of twenty- five. 
 The result was very similar ; but as the Prince, when 
 bidding him depart healed, made a sign of withdrawal 
 with his hand, the man rose and departed, and this 
 was taken as evidence that he had heard the com- 
 mand addressed to him." 
 
 The author gives other cases that he witnessed, not 
 one of which was other than a failure, though they 
 were all declared to be cures. 
 
 On June 29 the Prince practised his miracle-work- 
 ing at the palace, in the presence of the Crown Prince 
 and of Prince Esterhazy, the Austrian ambassador 
 
PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 181 
 
 who was on his way to London to attend the corona- 
 tion of George IV. in July. The attempts were pro- 
 bably as great failures as those described in the 
 Darmstadt pamphlet. The Prince was somewhat 
 discouraged at the invitation of the physicians 
 attached to the Julius Hospital ; he had visited that 
 institution the day before, and had experimented on 
 twenty cases, and was unsuccessful in every one. 
 Full particulars of these were published in the " Bam- 
 berger Briefe," Nos. 28-33. We will give only a very 
 few : — 
 
 " 1. Barbara Uhlen, of Oberschleichach, aged 39, 
 suffering from dropsy. The Prince said to her, ' Do 
 you sincerely believe that you can be helped and are 
 helped ? ' The sick woman replied, ' Yes. I had re- 
 solved to leave the hospital, where no good has been 
 done to me, and to seek health from God and the 
 Prince.' He raised his eyes to heaven and prayed ; 
 then assured the patient of her cure. Her case be- 
 came worse rapidly, instead of better. 
 
 " 7. Margaretta Lohlein, of Randersacher, aged 56. 
 Suffering from dropsy owing to disorganisation of the 
 liver. Another failure. Shortly after the Prince left, 
 she had to be operated on to save her from suffo- 
 cation. 
 
 " 10. Susanna Sollnerin, servant maid of Aub, aged 
 22, had already been thirteen weeks in hospital, suffer- 
 ing from roaring noises in the head and deafness. 
 The Prince, observing the fervour of her faith, cried 
 out, ' You shall see now how speedily she will be 
 cured ! ' Prayers, blessing, as before, and — as before, 
 no results. 
 
1 82 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 "il. George Forchheimer, butcher, suffering from 
 rheumatism. One foot is immovable, and he can 
 only walk with the assistance of a stick. During the 
 prayer of the Prince the patient wept and sobbed, 
 and was profoundly agitated. The Prince ordered him 
 to stand up and go without his stick. His efforts to 
 obey were unavailing ; he fell several times on the 
 ground, though the Prince repeated over him his 
 prayers." 
 
 These are sufficient as instances ; not a single case 
 in the hospital was more successfully treated by him. 
 
 On July 5 Prince Hohenlohe went to Bamberg, 
 where he was eagerly awaited by many sick and 
 credulous persons. The Burgomaster Hornthal, 
 however, interfered, and forbade the attempt at per- 
 forming miracles till the authorities at Baireuth had 
 been instructed of his arrival, and till a commission 
 had been appointed of men of judgment, and physi- 
 cians to take note of the previous condition of every 
 patient who was submitted to him, and of the subse- 
 quent condition. Thus hampered the Prince could 
 do nothing ; he failed as signally as in the Julius 
 Hospital at Wtirzburg, and the only cases of cures 
 claimed to have been wrought were among a mixed 
 crowd in the street to whom he gave a blessing from 
 the balcony of his lodging. 
 
 Finding that Bamberg was uncongenial, he ac- 
 cepted a call to the Baths of Briickenau, and thence 
 news reached the incredulous of Bamberg and 
 Wtirzburg that extraordinary cures had been wrought 
 at the prayers of the Prince. As, however, we have 
 no details respecting these, we may pass them over. 
 
PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 183 
 
 Hohenlohe. who had no notion of hiding his light 
 under a bushel, drew up a detailed account of over a 
 hundred cures which he claimed to have worked, had 
 them attested by witnesses, and sent this precious 
 document to the Pope, who, with good sense, took no 
 notice of it ; at least no public notice, though 
 it is probable that he administered a sharp 
 private reprimand, for Hohenlohe collapsed very 
 speedily. 
 
 From Briickenau the Prince went to Vienna, but was 
 not favourably received there, so he departed to Hun- 
 gary, where his mother's relations lived. Though he 
 was applied to by sick people who had heard of his 
 fame, he did not make any more direct attempts to heal 
 them. He, however, gave them cards on which a day 
 and hour were fixed, and a prayer written, and 
 exhorted them to pray for recovery earnestly on the 
 day and at the hour indicated, and promised to pray 
 for them at the same time. But this was also discon- 
 tinued, having proved inefficacious, and Hohenlohe 
 relapsed into a quiet unostentatious life. He was 
 appointed, through family interest, Canon of Gross- 
 wardein, and in 1829 advanced to be Provost of the 
 Cathedral. His powers as a preacher long survived 
 his powers of working miracles. He spent his time 
 in good works ; and in writing little manuals of 
 devotion. In ^1844. ^ e was consecrated titular Bishop 
 of Sardica in partibus, that is, without a See. He 
 died at Voslau, near Vienna, in 1849. That Hohen- 
 lohe was a conscious hypocrite we are far from 
 supposing. He was clearly a man of small mental 
 powers, very conceited, and wanting in judgment. 
 
184 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 We must not place too much reliance on the scan- 
 dalous gossip of Dr. Wolff. Probably Hohenlohe's 
 vanity received a severe check in 1821, when both 
 the Roman See and the world united to discredit his 
 miracles ; and he had sufficient good sense to accept 
 the verdict. 
 
Zhc £natl*£elegrapb. 
 
 The writer well remembers, as a child, the sense of 
 awe not unmixed with fear, with which he observed 
 the mysterious movements of the telegraph erected 
 on church towers in France along all the main roads. 
 Many a beautiful tower was spoiled by these 
 abominable erections. There were huge arms like 
 those of a windmill, painted black, and jointed, so as 
 to describe a great number of cabalistic signs in the 
 air. Indeed, the movements were like the writhings 
 of some monstrous spider. 
 
 / Glanvil who wrote in the middle of the 17th 
 century says, " To those that come after us, it may be 
 as ordinary to buy a pair of wings to fly into the 
 remotest regions, as now a pair of boots to ride a 
 journey. And to confer, at the distance of the Indies, 
 by sympathetic conveyances, may be as usual to future 
 times as to us is literary correspondence." He further 
 remarks, " Antiquity would not have believed the 
 almost incredible force of our cannons, and would as 
 coldly have entertained the wonders of the telescope. 
 In these we all condemn antique incredulity. And 
 it is likely posterity will have as much cause to pity 
 ours. But those who are acquainted with the diligent 
 and ingenious endeavours of true philosophers will 
 despair of nothing." 
 
 ]Tn 1633 the Marquis of Worcester suggested a 
 
i86 HISTORIC ODDITIES* 
 
 scheme of telegraphing by means of signs. Another, 
 but similar scheme, was mooted in 1660 by the 
 Frenchman Amonton. In 1763 Mr. Edgeworth 
 erected for his private use a telegraph between 
 London and Newmarket. But it was in 1789 that 
 the Optical Telegraph came into practical use in 
 France — Claude Chappe was the inventor. When he 
 was a boy, he contrived a means of communication 
 by signals with his brothers at a distance of two or 
 three miles. He laid down the first line between 
 Lille and Paris at a cost of about two thousand 
 pounds, and the first message sent along it was the 
 announcement of the capture of Lille by Conde.- 
 This led to the construction of many similar lines 
 communicating with each other by means of stations. 
 Some idea of the celerity with which messages were 
 sent may be gained from the fact that it took only 
 two minutes to reproduce in Paris a sign given in 
 Lille at a distance of 140 miles. On this line there 
 were 22 stations. The objections to this system lay 
 in its being useless at night and in rainy weather. 
 The French system of telegraph consisted of one 
 main beam — the regulator, at the end of which were 
 two shorter wings, so that it formed a letter Z. The 
 regulator and its flags could be turned about in 
 various ways, making in all 196 signs. Sometimes 
 the regulator stood horizontally, sometimes perpen- 
 dicularly. 
 
 Lord Murray introduced one of a different con- 
 struction in England in 1795 consisting of two rows 
 of three octangular flags revolving on their axis. 
 This gave 64 different signs, but was defective in the 
 
THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 187 
 
 same point as that of Chappe. Poor Chappe was so 
 troubled in mind because his claim to be the inventor 
 of his telegraph was disputed, that he drowned him- 
 self in a well, 1805. 
 
 Besides the fact that the optical telegraph was 
 paralysed by darkness and storm, it was very difficult 
 to manage in mountainous and well-wooded country, 
 and required there a great number of stations. 
 ^ After that Sommering had discovered at Munich 
 in 1808 the means of signalling through the galvanic 
 ■current obtained by decomposition of water, and 
 Schilling at Canstadt and Ampere in Paris (1820) had 
 made further advances in the science of electrology, 
 -and Oersted had established the deflexion of the 
 magnetic needle, it was felt that the day of the cum- 
 brous and disfiguring optical telegraph was over. A 
 new power had been discovered, though the extent 
 .and the applicability of this power were not known. 
 Gauss and Weber in 1833 made the first attempt to 
 .•set up an electric telegraph ; in 1837 Wheatstone and 
 Morse utilised the needle and made the telegraph 
 print its messages. In 1833 the telegraph of Gauss 
 and Weber supplanted the optical contrivance on the 
 line between Treves and Berlin. The first line in 
 America was laid from Washington to Baltimore in 
 V1844. The first attempt at submarine telegraphy 
 was made at Portsmouth in 1846, and in 1850 a cable 
 was laid between England and France. 
 \It was precisely in this year when men's minds were 
 excited over the wonderful powers of the galvanic 
 current, and a wide prospect was opened of its future 
 advantage to men, when, indeed, the general public 
 
i88 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 understood very little about the principle and were in 
 a condition of mind to accept almost any scientific 
 marvel, that there appeared in Paris an adventurer,, 
 who undertook to open communications between all 
 parts of the world without the expense and difficulty 
 of laying cables of communication. The line laid 
 across the channel in 1850 was not very successful ;. 
 it broke several times, and had to be taken up again, 
 and relaid in 185 1. If it did not answer in conveying 
 messages across so narrow a strip of water, was it 
 likely to be utilized for Transatlantic telegraphy > 
 The Presse, a respectable Paris paper, conducted by 
 a journalist of note, M. de Girardin, answered 
 emphatically, No. The means of communication was 
 not to be sought in a chain. The gutta percha 
 casing would decompose under the sea, and when the 
 brine touched the wires, the cable would be useless. 
 The Chappe telegraph was superseded by the electric 
 telegraph which answered well on dry land, but fatal 
 objections stood in the way of its answering for 
 communication between places divided by belts of 
 sea or oceans. Moreover, it was an intricate system. 
 Now the tendency of science in modern times was 
 towards simplification ; and it was always found that 
 the key to unlock difficulties which had puzzled the 
 inventors of the past, lay at their hands. The 
 electric telegraph was certainly more elaborate, com- 
 plicated and expensive than the optical telegraph. 
 Was it such a decided advance on it ? Yes — in one- 
 way. It could be worked at all hours of night and 
 day. But had the last word in telegraphy been, 
 spoken, when it was invented ? Most assuredly not. 
 
THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 189 
 
 Along with electricity and terrestrial magnetism, 
 another power, vaguely perceived, the full utility of 
 which was also unknown, had been recognised — 
 animal magnetism. Why should not this force be 
 used as a means for the conveyance of messages ? 
 t M. Jules Allix after a long preamble in La Presse, 
 in an article signed by himself, announced that a 
 French inventor, M. Jacques Toussaint Benoit (de 
 l'Herault), and a fellow worker of Gallic origin, living 
 in America, M. Biat-Chretien, had hit on " a new 
 system of universal intercommunication of thought, 
 which operates instantaneously." 
 ^After a long introduction in true French rhodomon- 
 tade, tracing the progress of humanity from the 
 publication of the Gospel to the 19th century, M. 
 Allix continued, " The discovery of MM. Benoit and 
 Biat depends on galvanism, terrestrial and animal 
 magnetism, also on natural sympathy, that is to say, 
 the base of communication is a sort of special sym- 
 pathetic fluid which is composed of the union or 
 blending of the galvanic, magnetic and sympathetic 
 currents, by a process to be described shortly. And 
 as the various fluids vary according to the organic or 
 inorganic bodies whence they are derived, it is neces- 
 sary further to state that the forces or fluids here 
 married are : (a) The terrestrial-galvanic current, {b) 
 the animal-sympathetic current, in this case derived 
 from snails, (c) the adamic or human current, or 
 animal-magnetic current in man. Consequently, to 
 describe concisely the basis of the new system of 
 intercommunication, we shall have to call the force, 
 ' The galvano-terrestrial-magnetic-animal and adamic 
 
i go HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 force ! ' " Is not this something like a piece of Jules 
 Verne's delicious scientific hocus-pocus? Will the 
 reader believe that it was written in good faith? It 
 was, there can be no question, written in perfect 
 good faith. The character of La Presse, of the jour- 
 nalist, M. Jules Allix, would not allow of a hoax 
 wilfully perpetrated on the public. We are quoting 
 from the number for October 27th, 1850, of the paper. 
 — "According to the experiments made by MM. 
 Benoit and Biat, it seems that snails which have 
 once been put in contact, are always in sympathetic 
 communication. When separated, there disengages 
 itself from them a species of fluid of which the earth 
 is the conductor, which develops and unrolls, so to 
 speak, like the almost invisible thread of the spider, 
 or that of the silk worm, which can be uncoiled and 
 prolonged almost indefinitely in space without its 
 breaking, but with this vital difference that the thread 
 of the escargotic fluid is invisible as completely and 
 the pulsation along it is as rapid as the electric fluid. 
 
 __ "But, it may be objected with some plausibility, 
 
 granted the existence in the snails of this sympathetic 
 fluid, will it radiate from them in all directions, after 
 the analogy of electric, galvanic and magnetic fluids, 
 unless there be some conductor established between 
 them ? At first sight, this objection has some weight, 
 but for all that it is more specious than serious." The 
 solution of this difficulty is exquisitely absurd. We 
 must summarise. 
 
 At first the discoverers of the galvanic current 
 thought it necessary to establish a return wire, to 
 complete the circle, till it was found to be sufficient 
 
THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 19 r 
 
 to carry the two ends of the wire in communication 
 with the earth, when the earth itself completed the 
 circle. There is no visible line between the ends 
 underground, yet the current completes the circle 
 through it. Moreover, it is impossible to think of 
 two points without establishing, in idea, a line be- 
 tween them, indeed, according to Euclid's definition, a 
 straight line is that which lies evenly between its. 
 extreme points, and a line is length without breadth 
 or substance. So, if we conceive of two snails, we 
 establish a line between them, an unsubstantial line,, 
 still a line along which the sympathetic current can 
 travel. "Now MM. Benoit and Biat, by means of 
 balloons in the atmosphere/' had established beyond: 
 doubt that a visible tangible line of communication, 
 was only necessary when raised above the earth. 
 
 " Consequently, there remains nothing more to be 
 considered than the means, the apparatus, whereby 
 the transmission of thought is effected. 
 ~v " This apparatus consists of a square box, in which 
 is a Voltaic pile, of which the metallic plates, instead 
 of being superposed, as in the pile of Volta, are dis- 
 posed in order, attached in holes formed in a wheel 
 or circular disc, that revolves about a steel axis. To 
 these metallic plates used by Volta, MM. Benoit and 
 Biat have substituted others in the shape of cups or- 
 circular basins, composed of zinc lined with cloth 
 steeped in a solution of sulphate of copper maintained, 
 in place by a blade of copper riveted to the cup. At 
 the bottom of each of these bowls, is fixed, by aid of 
 a composition that shall be given presently, a living 
 snail, whose sympathetic influence may unite and be 
 
192 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 woven with the galvanic current, when the wheel of 
 the pile is set in motion and with it the snails that 
 are adhering to it. 
 
 ^ Each galvanic basin rests on a delicate spring, so 
 that it may respond to every escargotic commotion. 
 Now ; it is obvious that such an apparatus requires a 
 •corresponding apparatus, disposed as has been de- 
 scribed, and containing in it snails in sympathy with 
 those in the other apparatus, so that the escargotic 
 vibration may pass from one precise point in one of 
 the piles to a precise point in the other and comple- 
 mentary pile. When these dispositions have been 
 grasped the rest follows as a matter of course. MM. 
 Benoit and Biat have fixed letters to the wheels, 
 corresponding the one with the other, and at each 
 sympathetic touch on one, the other is touched ; 
 consequently it is easy by this means, naturally and 
 instantaneously, to communicate ideas at vast dis- 
 tances, by the indication of the letters touched by the 
 snails. The apparatus described is in shape like a 
 mariner's compass, and to distinguish it from that, it is 
 termed the pasilalinic — sympathetic compass, as descrip- 
 tive at once of its effects and the means of operation." 
 
 ^But, who were these inventors, Benoit and Biat- 
 Chretien ? We will begin with the latter. As Pontop- 
 pidon in .his History of Norway heads a chapter, 
 " Of Snakes," and says, " Of these there are none," so 
 we may say of M. Biat-Chre'tien ; there was no such 
 man ; at least he never rose to the surface and was 
 seen. Apparently his existence was as much a hallu- 
 cination or creation of the fancy of M. Benoft, as was 
 Mrs. Harris a creature of the imagination of Mrs. 
 
THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 193 
 
 Betsy Gamp. Certainly no Biat-Chretien was known 
 in America as a discoverer. 
 
 Jacques Toussaint Benoit (de l'Herault) was a man 
 who had been devoted since his youth to the secret 
 sciences. His studies in magic and astrology, in 
 mesmerism, and electricity, had turned his head. 
 Together with real eagerness to pursue his studies, 
 and real belief in them, was added a certain spice of 
 rascality. 
 
 s^ One day Benoit, who had by some means made 
 the acquaintance of M. Triat, founder and manager 
 of a gymnasium in Paris for athletic exercises, came 
 to Triat, and told him that he had made a discovery 
 which would supersede electric telegraphy. The 
 director was a man of common sense, but not of much 
 education, certainly of no scientific acquirements. 
 He was, therefore, quite unable to distinguish be- 
 tween true and false science. Benoit spoke with 
 conviction, and carried away his hearer with his 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " What is needed for the construction of the 
 machine ? " asked M. Triat. 
 
 " Only two or three bits of wood," replied Benoit. 
 
 M. Triat took him into his carpenter's shop. "There, 
 my friend," he said, "here you have wood, and a man 
 to help you." 
 
 -^ M. Triat did more. The future inventor of the 
 instantaneous communication of thought was house- 
 less and hungry. The manager rented a lodging for 
 him, and advanced him money for his entertainment. 
 Benoit set to work. He used a great many bits of 
 wood, and occupied the carpenter a good part of his 
 
i 9 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 time. Other things became necessary as well as 
 wood, things that cost money, and the money was 
 found by M. Triat. So passed a twelvemonth. At 
 the end of that time, which had been spent at the 
 cost of his protector, Benolt had arrived at no result. 
 It was apparent that, in applying to M. Triat, he had 
 sought, not so much to construct a machine already 
 invented, as to devote himself to the pursuit of his 
 favourite studies. The director became impatient. 
 He declined to furnish further funds. ' Then Benolt 
 declared that the machine was complete. 
 
 xThis machine, for the construction of which he had 
 asked for two or three pieces of wood, was an enor- 
 mous scaffold formed of beams ten feet long, support- 
 ing the Voltaic pile described by M. Allix, ensconced 
 in the bowls of which were the wretched snails stuck 
 to the bottom of the basins by some sort of glue, at 
 intervals. This was the Pasilalinic-sympathetic com- 
 pass. It occupied one end of the apartment. At 
 the other end was a second, exactly similar. Each 
 contained twenty-four alphabetic-sympathetic snails. 
 These poor beasts, glued to the bottom of the zinc 
 cups with little dribbles of sulphate of copper trick- 
 ling down the sides of the bowls from the saturated 
 cloth placed on them, were uncomfortable, and naturally 
 tried to get away. They thrust themselves from their 
 shells and poked forth their horns groping for some 
 congenial spot on which to crawl, and came in con- 
 tact with the wood on which was painted the letters. 
 But if they came across a drop of solution of sulphate 
 of copper, they went precipitately back into their shells. 
 
 ""Properly, the two machines should have been 
 
THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 195 
 
 established in different rooms, but no second room 
 was available on the flat where Benoit was lodged, so 
 he was forced to erect both vis-a-vis. That, however, 
 was a matter wholly immaterial, as he explained to 
 those who visited the laboratory. Space was not 
 considered by snails. Place one in Paris, the other at 
 the antipodes, the transmission of thought along their 
 .sympathetic current was as complete, instantaneous 
 and effective as in his room' on the troisihne. In 
 proof of this, Benoit undertook to correspond with his 
 friend and fellow-worker Biat-Chretien in America, 
 who had constructed a similar apparatus. He 
 assured all who came to inspect his invention that he 
 conversed daily by means of the snails with his 
 absent friend. When the machine was complete, the 
 inventor was in no hurry to show it in working order ; 
 however M. Triat urged performance on him. He 
 •said, and there was reason in what he said, that an 
 exhibition of the pasilalinic telegraph before it was 
 perfected, would be putting others on the track, who 
 might, having more means at their command, forestall 
 him, and so rob him of the fruit of his labours. At 
 last he invited M. Triat and M. Allix, as representa- 
 tive of an influential journal, to witness the apparatus 
 in working order, on October 2nd. He assured them 
 that since September 30, he had been in constant 
 ■correspondence with Biat-Chretien, who, without 
 crossing the sea, would assist at the experiments con- 
 ducted at Paris on Wednesday, October 2nd, in the 
 lodging of M. Benoit. 
 
 /-■■On the appointed day, M. Triat and M. Allix were 
 at the appointed place. The former at once objected 
 
196 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 to the position of the two compasses, but was con- 
 strained to be satisfied with the reason given by the 
 operator. If they could not be in different rooms, at 
 least a division should be made in the apartment 
 by means of a curtain, so that the operator at one 
 compass could not see him at the other. But there 
 was insuperable difficulty in doing this, so M. Triat 
 had to waive this objection also. M. Jules Allix was 
 asked to attend one of the compasses, whilst the in- 
 ventor stood on the scaffold managing the other. M. 
 Allix was to send the message, by touching the snails 
 which represented the letters forming the words to be 
 transmitted, whereupon the corresponding snail on M. 
 Benolt's apparatus was supposed to thrust forth his 
 horns. But, under one pretext or another, the 
 inventor ran from one apparatus to the other, the 
 whole time, so that it was not very difficult, with a 
 little management, to reproduce on his animated 
 compass the letters transmitted by M. Jules Allix. 
 _ The transmission, moreover, was not as exact as it 
 ought to have been. M. Jules Allix had touched the 
 snails in such order as to form the word gymnase ; 
 Benoit on his compass read the word gymoate. Then 
 M. Triat, taking the place of the inventor, sent the 
 words lumiere divine to M. Jules Allix, who read on 
 his compass lumhere divine. Evidently the snails 
 were bad in their orthography. The whole thing, 
 moreover, was a farce, and the correspondence, such as 
 it was, was due to the incessant voyages of the in- 
 ventor from one compass to the other, under the pre- 
 text of supervising the mechanism of the two appar- 
 atusest 
 
THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 197 
 
 Benoit was then desired to place himself in com- 
 munication with his American friend, planted before 
 his compass on the other side of the Atlantic. He 
 transmitted to him the signal to be on the alert. 
 Then he touched with a live snail he held in his hand 
 the four snails that corresponded to the letters of the 
 name BlAT ; then they awaited the reply from 
 - America. After a few moments, the poor glued snails 
 began to poke out their horns in a desultory, irregular 
 manner, and by putting the letters together, with 
 some accommodation CESTBIEN was made out, which 
 when divided, and the apostrophe added, made C'est 
 bien. 
 
 M. Triat was much disconcerted. He considered 
 himself as hoaxed. Not so M. Allix. He was so 
 completely satisfied, that on the 27th October, 
 appeared the article from his pen which we have 
 quoted. M. Triat then went to the inventor and told 
 him point blank, that he withdrew his protection from 
 him. Benoit entreated him not to throw up the 
 matter, before the telegraph was perfected. 
 
 "Look here!" said M. Triat; "nothing is easier 
 ' than for you to make me change my intention. Let 
 one of your compasses beset up in my gymnasium, 
 and the other in the side apartment. If that seems 
 too much, then let a simple screen be drawn between 
 the two, and do you refrain from passing between 
 them whilst the experiment is being carried on. If 
 under these conditions you succeed in transmitting a 
 single word from one apparatus to the other, I will 
 give you a thousand francs a day whilst your experi- 
 ments are successful." 
 
igS HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 // \ M. Triat then visited M. de Girardin who was in- 
 terested in the matter, half believed in it, and had 
 accordingly opened the columns of La Presse to the 
 article of M. Allix. M. de Girardin wished to be 
 present at the crucial experiment, and M. Triat gladly 
 invited him to attend. He offered another thousand 
 francs so long as the compasses worked. " My plan is 
 this," said M. de Girardin : " If Benoit's invention is a 
 success, we will hire the Jardin dliiver and make 
 Benoit perform his experiments in public. That will 
 bring us in a great deal more than two thousand 
 francs a day." 
 r^ Benolt accepted all the conditions with apparent 
 alacrity ; but, before the day arrived for the experi- 
 ment, after the removal of the two great scaffolds to 
 the gymnasiums — he had disappeared. He was, how- 
 ever, seen afterwards several times in Paris, very thin, 
 with eager restless eyes, apparently partly deranged. 
 He died in 1852 ! 
 
 i/^-Alas for Benoit. He died a few years too soon. A 
 little later, and he might have become a personage of 
 importance in the great invasion of the table-turning 
 craze which shortly after inundated Europe, and turned 
 many heads as well as tables. 
 
XTbe Countess <Boedit3* 
 
 One of the most strange and terrible tragedies of 
 this century was the murder of the Countess Goerlitz ; 
 and it excited immense interest in Germany, both 
 because of the high position of the unfortunate lady, 
 the mystery attaching to her death, and because the 
 charge of having murdered her rested on her husband, 
 the Count Goerlitz, Chamberlain to the Grand-Duke 
 of Hesse, Privy Councillor, a man of fortune as well 
 as rank, and of unimpeachable character. There was 
 another reason why the case excited general interest : 
 the solution remained a mystery for three whole 
 years, from 1847 to 1850. 
 
 The Count Goerlitz was a man of forty-six, a great 
 favourite at the Court, and of fine appearance. He 
 had married, in 1820, the daughter of the Privy 
 Councillor, Plitt. They had no children. The Coun- 
 tess was aged forty-six when the terrible event oc- 
 curred which we are about to relate. 
 
 The Count and Countess lived in their mansion in 
 the Neckarstrasse in Darmstadt — a large, palatial 
 house, handsomely furnished. Although living under 
 the same roof, husband and wife lived apart. She 
 occupied the first floor, and he the parterre, or ground 
 floor. They dined together. The cause of the un- 
 friendly terms on which they lived was the fact that 
 the Countess was wealthy, her family was of citizen 
 
200 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 origin, and had amassed a large fortune in trade. 
 Her father had been ennobled by the Grand-Duke, 
 and she had been his heiress. The Count, himself, 
 had not much of his own, and his wife cast this fact 
 in his teeth. She loved to talk of the " beggar no- 
 bility," who were obliged to look out for rich burghers' 
 daughters to gild their coronets. The Count may 
 have been hot of temper, and have aggravated matters 
 by sharpness of repartee ; but, according to all ac- 
 counts, it was her miserliness and bitter tongue which 
 caused the estrangement. 
 
 There were but four servants in the house — the 
 Count's valet, the coachman, a manservant of the 
 Countess, and the cook. 
 
 Every Sunday the Count Goerlitz dined at the 
 palace. On Sunday, June 13, 1847, he had dined at 
 the Grand-Duke's table as usual. As we know from 
 the letters of the Princess Alice, life was simple at 
 that Court. Hours were, as usual in South Germany, 
 early. The carriage took the Count to dinner at the 
 palace at 3 P.M., and he returned home in it to the 
 Neckar Street at half-past six. When he came in he 
 asked the servant of the Countess, a man named John 
 Stauff, whether his wife was at home, as he wanted 
 to see her. As a matter of fact, he had brought away 
 from the dinner-table at the palace some maccaroons 
 and bonbons for her, as she had a sweet tooth, and 
 he thought the attention might please her. 
 
 As John Stauff told him the Countess was in, he 
 ascended the stone staircase. A glass door led into 
 the anteroom. He put his hand to it and found it 
 fastened. Thinking that his wife was asleep, or did 
 
THE COUNTESS G0ERL1TZ. 201 
 
 not want to be disturbed, he went downstairs to his 
 own room, which was under her sitting-room. There 
 he listened for her tread, intending, on hearing it, to 
 reascend and present her with the bonbons. As he 
 heard nothing, he went out for a walk. The time 
 was half-past seven. A little before nine o'clock he 
 returned from his stroll, drew on his dressing-gown 
 and slippers, and asked for his supper, a light meal 
 he was wont to take by himself in his own room, 
 though not always, for the Countess frequently joined 
 him. Her mood was capricious. As he had the 
 bonbons in his pocket, and had not yet been able to 
 present them, he sent her man Stauff to tell her lady- 
 ship that supper was served, and that it would give 
 him great satisfaction if she would honour him with 
 her presence. Stauff came back in a few moments 
 to say that the Countess was not at home. " Non- 
 sense ! " said the husband, " of course she is at home. 
 She may, however, be asleep. I will go myself and 
 find her." Thereupon he ascended the stairs, and 
 found, as before, the glass door to the anteroom 
 fastened. He looked in, but saw nothing. He 
 knocked, and received no answer. Then he went to 
 the bedroom door, knocked, without result ; listened, 
 and heard no sound. The Count had a key to the 
 dressing-room ; he opened, and went in, and through 
 that he passed into the bed-chamber. That was 
 empty. The bed-clothes were turned down for the 
 night, but were otherwise undisturbed. He had no 
 key to the anteroom and drawing-room. 
 
 Then the Count went upstairs to the laundry, 
 which was on the highest storey, and where were also 
 
202 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 some rooms. The Countess was particular about her 
 lace and linen, and often attended to them herself, 
 getting up some of the collars and frills with her own 
 hands. She was not in the laundry. Evidently she 
 was, as Stauff had said, not at home. The Count 
 questioned the manservant. Had his mistress in- 
 timated her intention of supping abroad ? No, she 
 had not. Nevertheless, it was possible she might 
 have gone to intimate friends. Accordingly, he sent 
 to the palace of Prince Wittgenstein, and to the house 
 of Councillor von Storch, to inquire if she were at 
 either. She had been seen at neither. 
 
 The Count was puzzled, without, however, being 
 seriously alarmed. He bade Stauff call the valet,. 
 Schiller, and the coachman, Schambs, who slept out 
 of the house, and then go for a locksmith. Stauff de- 
 parted. Presently the valet and coachman arrived,, 
 and, after, Stauff, without the locksmith, who, he said,, 
 was ill, and his man was at the tavern. The Count 
 was angry and scolded. Then the coachman went 
 forth, and soon came back with the locksmith's ap- 
 prentice, who was set at once to open the locked 
 doors in the top storey. The Countess was not in 
 them. At the same time the young man noticed a 
 smell of burning, but whence it came they could not 
 decide. Thinking that this smell came from the 
 kitchen on the first storey — that is, the floor above 
 where the Count lived — they attacked the door of the 
 kitchen, which was also locked. She was not there. 
 Then the Count led the way to the private sitting-room 
 of the Countess. As yet only the young locksmith had 
 noticed the fire, the others were uncertain whether 
 
THE COUNTESS G0ERL1TZ. 203 
 
 they smelt anything unusual or not. The key of the 
 apprentice would not fit the lock of the Countess' 
 ante-room, so he ran home to get another. Then the 
 Count went back to his own apartment, and on enter- 
 ing it, himself perceived the smell of burning. Ac- 
 cordingly, he went upstairs again, to find that the 
 coachman had opened an iron stove door in the pas- 
 sage, and that a thick pungent smoke was pouring 
 out of it. We must enter here into an explanation. 
 In many cases the porcelain stove of a German house 
 has no opening into the room. It is lighted outside 
 through a door into the passage. Several stoves 
 communicate with one chimney. The Count and his 
 servants ran out into the courtyard to look at the 
 chimney stack to see if smoke were issuing from it. 
 None was. Then they returned to the house. The 
 apprentice had not yet returned. Looking through 
 the glass door, they saw that there was smoke in the 
 room. It had been unperceived before, for it was 
 evening and dusk. At once the Count's valet, 
 Schiller, smashed the plate glass, and through the 
 broken glass smoke rolled towards them. 
 
 The hour was half-past ten. The search had occu- 
 pied an hour and a half. It had not been prosecuted 
 with great activity ; but then, no suspicion of any- 
 thing to cause alarm had been entertained. If the 
 Countess were at home, she must be in the sitting- 
 room. From this room the smoke must come which 
 pervaded the ante-chamber. The fire must be within, 
 and if the Countess were there, she must run the 
 danger of suffocation. Consequently, as the keys 
 were not at hand, the doors ought to be broken open 
 
204 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 at once. This was not done. Count Goerlitz sent 
 the servants away. Stauff he bade run for a chimney- 
 sweep, and Schiller for his medical man, Dr. Steg- 
 mayer. The coachman had lost his head and ran 
 out into the street, yelling, " Fire ! fire ! " The wife 
 of Schiller, who had come in, ran out to summon 
 assistance. 
 
 The Count was left alone outside the glass door ; 
 and there he remained passive till the arrival of the 
 locksmith's man with the keys. More time was 
 wasted. None of the keys would open the door, 
 and still the smoke rolled out. Then the apprentice 
 beat the door open with a stroke of his hammer. He 
 did it of his own accord, without orders from the 
 Count. That was remembered afterwards. At once 
 a dense, black, sickly-smelling smoke poured forth, 
 and prevented the entrance of those who stood with- 
 out. 
 
 In the meantime, the coachman and others had 
 put ladders against the wall, one to the window of 
 the ante-room, the other to that of the parlour. Seitz, 
 the apprentice, ran up the ladder, and peered in. The 
 room was quite dark. He broke two panes in the 
 window, and at once a blue flame danced up, caught 
 the curtains, flushed yellow, and shot out a fiery 
 tongue through the broken window. Seitz, who 
 seems to have been the only man with presence of 
 mind, boldly put his arm through and unfastened the 
 valves, and, catching the burning curtains, tore them 
 down and flung them into the street. Then he cast 
 down two chairs which were flaming from the win- 
 dow. He did not venture in because of the smoke. 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 205 
 
 In the meanwhile the coachman had broken the 
 window panes of the ante-room. This produced a 
 draught through the room, as the glass door had been 
 broken in by Seitz. The smoke cleared sufficiently 
 to allow of admission to the parlour door. This door 
 was also found to be locked, and not only locked, but 
 with the key withdrawn from it, as had been from the 
 ante-chamber door. This door was also burst open, 
 and then it was seen that the writing-desk of the 
 Countess was on fire. That was all that could be 
 distinguished at the first glance. The room was full 
 of smoke, and the heat was so great that no one could 
 enter. 
 
 Water was brought in jugs and pails, and thrown 
 upon the floor. The current of air gradually dissi- 
 pated the smoke, and something white was observed 
 on the floor near the burning desk. "Good heavens!" 
 exclaimed the Count, " there she lies ! " 
 
 The Countess lay on the floor beside her writing- 
 desk ; the white object was her stockings. 
 
 Among those who entered was a smith called Wet- 
 zell ; he dashed forward, flung a pail of water over the 
 burning table, caught hold of the feet of the dead body,, 
 and dragged it into the ante-room. Then he sought 
 to raise it, but it slipped through his hands, A second 
 came to his assistance, with the same result. The 
 corpse was like melted butter. When he seized it by 
 the arm, the flesh came away from the bone. 
 
 The body was laid on a mat, and so transported 
 into a cabinet. The upper portion was burnt to coal ; 
 one hand was charred ; on the left foot was a shoe, 
 the other was found, later, in another room. More 
 
206 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 water was brought, and the fire in the parlour was 
 completely quenched. Then only was it possible to 
 examine the place. The fire had, apparently, origin- 
 ated at the writing-desk or secretaire of the Countess ; 
 the body had lain before the table, and near it was a 
 chair, thrown over. From the drawing-room a door, 
 which was found open, led into the boudoir. This 
 boudoir had a window that looked into a side street. 
 In the ante-room were no traces of fire. In the 
 drawing-room only the secretaire and the floor be- 
 neath it had been burnt. On a chiffonier against the 
 wall were candlesticks, the stearine candles in them 
 had been melted by the heat of the room and run 
 over the chiffonier. 
 
 In this room was also a sofa, opposite the door 
 leading from the ante-chamber, some way from the desk 
 and the seat of the fire. In the middle of the sofa was 
 a hole fourteen inches long by six inches broad, burnt 
 through the cretonne cover, the canvas below, and 
 into the horse hair beneath. A looking-glass hung 
 against the wall above ; this glass was broken and 
 covered with a deposit as of smoke. It was apparent, 
 therefore, that a flame had leaped up on the sofa 
 sufficiently high and hot to snap the mirror and 
 obscure it. 
 
 Left of the entrance-door was a bell-rope, torn 
 down and cast on the ground. 
 
 Beyond the parlour was the boudoir. It had a 
 little corner divan. Its cover was burnt through in 
 two places. The cushion at the back was also marked 
 with holes burnt through. Above this seat against 
 the wall hung an oil painting. It was blistered with 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 207 
 
 heat. Near it was an etagere, on which were candles; 
 these also were found melted completely away. In 
 this boudoir was found the slipper from the right foot 
 of the Countess. 
 
 If the reader will consider what we have described, 
 he will see that something very mysterious must have 
 occurred. There were traces of burning in three dis- 
 tinct places — on the sofa, and at the secretaire in the 
 parlour, and on the corner seat in the boudoir. It 
 was clear also that the Countess had been in both 
 rooms, for her one slipper was in the boudoir, the 
 other on her foot in the drawing-room. Apparently, 
 also, she had rung for assistance, and torn down the 
 bell-rope. 
 
 Another very significant and mysterious feature of 
 the case was the fact that the two doors were found 
 locked, and that the key was not found with the body, 
 nor anywhere in the rooms. Consequently, . the 
 Countess had not locked herself in. 
 
 Again : — the appearance of the corpse was peculiar. 
 The head and face were burnt to cinder, especially 
 the face, less so the back of the head. All the upper 
 part of the body had been subjected to fire, as far as 
 the lower ribs, and there the traces of burning ceased 
 absolutely. Also, the floor was burnt in proximity 
 to the corpse, but not where it lay. The body had 
 protected the floor where it lay from fire. 
 
 The police were at once informed of what had taken 
 place, and the magistrates examined the scene and 
 the witnesses. This was done in a reprehensibly in- 
 efficient manner. The first opinion entertained 
 was that the Countess had been writing at her 
 
208 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 desk, and had set fire to herself, had run from room 
 to room, tried to obtain assistance by ringing the 
 bell, had failed, fallen, and died. Three medical 
 men were called in to examine the body. One de- 
 cided that this was a case of spontaneous combustion. 
 The second that it was not a case of spontaneous 
 combustion. The third simply stated that she had 
 been burnt, but how the fire originated he was unable 
 to say. No minute examination of the corpse was 
 made. It was not even stripped of the half-burnt 
 clothes upon it. It was not dissected. The family 
 physician signed a certificate of " accidental death," 
 and two days after the body was buried. 
 
 Only three or, at the outside, four hypotheses could 
 account for the death of the Countess. 
 
 i. She had caught fire accidentally, whilst writing 
 at her desk. 
 
 2. She had died of spontaneous combustion. 
 
 3. She had been murdered. 
 
 There is, indeed, a fourth hypothesis — that she had 
 committed suicide ; but this was too improbable to 
 be entertained. The manner of death was not one to 
 be reconciled with the idea of suicide. 
 
 The first idea was that in the minds of the magis- 
 trates. They were prepossessed with it. They saw 
 nothing that could militate against it. Moreover, the 
 Count was Chamberlain at Court, a favourite of the 
 sovereign and much liked by the princes, also a man 
 generally respected. Unquestionably this had some- 
 thing to do with the hasty and superficial manner in 
 which the examination was gone through. The 
 magistrates desired to have the tragedy hushed up. 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 209 
 
 A little consideration shows that the theory of acci- 
 dent was untenable. The candles were on the chiffonier, 
 and no traces of candlesticks were found on the spot 
 where the fire had burned. Moreover, the appearance of 
 the secretaire was against this theory. The writing- 
 desk and table consisted of a falling flap, on which 
 the Countess wrote, and which she could close and 
 lock. Above this table were several small drawers 
 which contained her letters, receipted bills, and her 
 jewelry. Below it were larger drawers. The upper 
 drawers were not completely burnt ; on the other 
 hand, the lower drawers were completely consumed, 
 and their bottoms and contents had fallen in cinders 
 on the floor beneath, which was also burnt through to 
 the depth of an inch and a half to two inches. It 
 was apparent, therefore, that the secretaire had been 
 set on fire from below. Moreover, there was more 
 charcoal found under it than could be accounted for, 
 by supposing it had fallen from above. Now it will be 
 remembered that only the upper portion of the body 
 was consumed. The Countess had not set fire to 
 herself whilst writing, and so set fire to the papers 
 on the desk. That was impossible. 
 
 The supposition that she had died of spontaneous 
 combustion was also entertained by a good many. But 
 no well-authenticated case of spontaneous combustion 
 is known. Professor Liebig, when afterwards examined 
 on this case, stated that spontaneous combustion of 
 the human body was absolutely impossible, and such 
 an idea must be relegated to the region of myths. 
 
 There remained, therefore, no other conclusion at 
 which it was possible for a rational person to arrive 
 
210 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 who weighed the circumstances than that the Countess 
 had been murdered. 
 
 The Magisterial Court of the city of Darmstadt 
 had attempted to hush-up the case. The German 
 press took it up. It excited great interest and in- 
 dignation throughout the country. It was intimated 
 pretty pointedly that the case had been scandalously 
 slurred over, because of the rank of the Count and 
 the intimate relation in which he stood to the royal 
 family. The papers did not shrink from more than 
 insinuating that this was a case of murder, and that 
 the murderer was the husband of the unfortunate 
 woman. Some suspicion that this was so seems to 
 have crossed the minds of the servants of the house. 
 They recollected his dilatoriness in entering the 
 rooms of the Countess ; the time that was protracted 
 in idle sending for keys, and trying key after key, 
 when a kick of the foot or a blow of the hammer 
 would have sufficed to give admission to the room 
 where she lay. It was well known that the couple did 
 not live on the best terms. To maintain appearances 
 before the world, they dined and occasionally supped 
 together. They rarely met alone, and when they did 
 fell into dispute, and high words passed which the 
 servants heard. 
 
 The Countess was mean and miserly, she grudged 
 allowing her husband any of her money. She had> 
 however, made her will the year before, leaving all 
 her large fortune to her husband for life. Conse- 
 quently her death released him from domestic and 
 pecuniary annoyances. On the morning after the 
 death he sent for the agent of the insurance company 
 
THE COUNTESS G0ERLI7Z. 211 
 
 with whom the furniture and other effects were insured 
 and made his claim. He claimed, in addition to 
 the value of the furniture destroyed, the worth of a 
 necklace of diamonds and pearls which had been so 
 injured by the fire that it had lost the greater part of 
 its value. The pearls were quite spoiled, and the 
 diamonds reduced in worth by a half. The agent 
 refused this claim, as he contended that the jewelry 
 was not included in the insurance, and the Count 
 abstained from pressing it. 
 
 To the Count the situation became at length in- 
 tolerable. He perceived a decline of cordiality in his 
 reception at Court, his friends grew cold, and 
 acquaintances cut him. He must clear himself of the 
 charge which now weighed on him. The death of 
 the Countess had occurred on June 13, 1847. On 
 October 6, that is four months later, Count Goerlitz 
 appeared before the Grand-Ducal Criminal Court of 
 Darmstadt, and produced a bundle of German news- 
 papers charging him with having murdered his wife> 
 and set fire to the room to conceal the evidence of 
 his crime. He therefore asked to have the case re- 
 opened, and the witnesses re-examined. Nothing 
 followed. The Court hesitated to take up the case 
 again, and throw discredit on the magistrates' decision 
 in June. Again, on October 16, the Count renewed 
 his request, and desired, if this were refused, that he 
 and his solicitor might be allowed access to the 
 minutes of the examination, that they might be 
 enabled to take decided measures for the clearing of 
 the Count's character, and the chastisement of those 
 who charged him with an atrocious crime. On 
 
212 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 October 21, he received a reply, "that his request 
 could not be granted, unless he produced such 
 additional evidence as would show the Court that the 
 former examination was defective." 
 
 On October 25, the Count laid a mass of evidence 
 before the Court which, he contended, would materially 
 modify, if not absolutely upset the conclusion arrived 
 at by the previous investigation. 
 
 Then, at last, consent was given ; but proceedings 
 did not begin till November, and dragged on till the 
 end of October in the following year, when a new law 
 of criminal trial having been passed in the grand- 
 duchy, the whole of what had gone before became 
 invalid, save as preliminary investigation, and it was 
 not till March 4, 1850 — that is, not till three years 
 after the death of the Countess — that the case was 
 thoroughly sifted and settled. Before the promulga- 
 tion of the law of October, 1848, all trials were private, 
 then trial by jury, and in public, was introduced. 
 
 However, something had been done. In August 
 1848 — that is, over a year after the burial of the 
 Countess — the body was exhumed and submitted to 
 examination. Two facts were then revealed. The 
 skull of the Countess had been fractured by some 
 blunt instrument ; and she had been strangled. The 
 condition in which the tongue had been found when 
 the body was first discovered had pointed to strangu- 
 lation, the state of the jaws when exhumed proved it. 
 So much, then, was made probable. A murderer 
 had entered the room, struck the Countess on the 
 head, and when that did not kill her, he had throttled 
 her. Then, apparently, so it was argued, he had 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 213 
 
 burnt the body, and next, before it was more than 
 half consumed, had placed it near the secretaire, and, 
 finally, had set fire to the secretaire. 
 
 He had set fire to the writing-desk to lead to the 
 supposition that the Countess had set fire to herself 
 whilst writing- at it ; and this was the first conclusion 
 formed. 
 
 That a struggle had taken place appeared from 
 several circumstances. The bell-rope was torn down. 
 Probably no servant had been in the house that Sun- 
 day evening when the bell rang desperately for aid. 
 The seat flung over seemed to point to her having 
 been surprised at the desk. One shoe was in the 
 boudoir. The struggle had been continued as she 
 fled from the sitting-room into the inner apartment. 
 
 Now, only, were the fire-marks on the divan and 
 sofa explicable. The Countess had taken refuge first 
 on one, then on the other, after having been wounded, 
 and her blood had stained them. The murderer had 
 burnt out the marks of blood. 
 
 She had fled from the sitting-room to the boudoir, 
 and thence had hoped to escape through the next 
 door into a corner room, but the door of that room 
 was locked. 
 
 The next point to be determined was, 
 where had her body been burnt. 
 
 In the sitting-room, the boudoir, and 
 
 room 
 
 a locked corner room were stoves. The a " ' e m 
 
 parlour 
 
 walls of these rooms met, and in the 
 angles were the stoves. They all communicated with 
 one chimney. They were all heated from an opening 
 in the anteroom, marked a, which closed with an iron 
 
214 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 door, and was covered with tapestry. The opening 
 was large enough for a human being to be thrust 
 through, and the fire-chamber amply large enough 
 also for its consumption. 
 
 Much time had passed since a serious examina- 
 tion was begun, and it was too late to think of find- 
 ing evidence of the burning of the body in this place. 
 The stoves had been used since, each winter. How- 
 ever, some new and surprising evidence did come to 
 light. At five minutes past eight on the evening that 
 the mysterious death took place, Colonel von Stock-- 
 hausen was on the opposite side of the street talking 
 to a lady, when his attention was arrested by a dense 
 black smoke issuing suddenly from the chimney of 
 the Count Goerlitz' palace. He continued looking at 
 the column of smoke whilst conversing with the lady, 
 uncertain whether the chimney were on fire or not, 
 and whether he ought to give the alarm. When the 
 lady left him, after about ten minutes, or a quarter of 
 an hour, he saw that smoke ceased to issue from the 
 chimney. He accordingly went his way without giv- 
 ing notice of the smoke. 
 
 So far every piece of evidence went to show that 
 the Countess had been murdered. The conclusion 
 now arrived at was this : she had been struck on the 
 head, chased from room to room bleeding, had been 
 caught, strangled, then thrust into the fire-chamber of 
 the stove over a fire which only half consumed her ; 
 taken out again and laid before the secretaire, and 
 the secretaire deliberately set fire to, and all the 
 blood-marks obliterated by fire. That something of 
 this kind had taken place was evident. Who had 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 215 
 
 done it was not so clear. The efforts of the Count 
 to clear himself had established the fact that his 
 wife was murdered, but did not establish his inno- 
 cence. 
 
 Suddenly — the case assumed a new aspect, through 
 an incident wholly unexpected and extraordinary. 
 
 The result of inquiry into the case of the death of 
 the Countess Goerlitz was, that the decision that she 
 had come to her end by accident, given by the city 
 magistrates, was upset, and it was made abundantly 
 clear that she had been murdered. By whom mur- 
 dered was not so clear. 
 
 Inquiry carried the conclusion still further. She 
 had been robbed as well as murdered. 
 
 We have already described the writing-desk of the 
 Countess. There were drawers below the flap, and 
 other smaller drawers concealed by it when closed. 
 In the smaller drawers she kept her letters, her bills, 
 her vouchers for investments; and her jewelry. 
 Among the latter was the pearl and diamond neck- 
 lace, which she desired by her will might be sold, and 
 the money given to a charitable institution. The 
 necklace was indeed discovered seriously injured ; but 
 what had become of her bracelets, brooches, rings, her 
 other necklets, her earrings ? She had also a chain 
 of pearls, which was nowhere to be found. All these 
 articles were gone. No trace of them had been found 
 in the cinders under the secretaire ; moreover, the 
 drawers in which she preserved them were not among 
 those burnt through. In the first excitement and 
 bewilderment caused by her death, the Count had 
 not observed the loss, and the magistrates had not 
 
216 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 thought fit to inquire whether any robbery had been 
 committed. 
 
 A very important fact was now determined. The 
 Countess had been robbed, and murdered, probably 
 for the sake of her jewels. Consequently the mur- 
 derer was not likely to be the Count. 
 
 When the case was re-opened, at Count Goerlitz's 
 repeated demand, an " Inquirent " was appointed by 
 the Count to examine the case — that is, an official 
 investigator of all the circumstances ; and on Novem- 
 ber 2, 1847, in the morning, notice was given to the 
 Count that the " Inquirent " would visit his mansion 
 on the morrow and examine both the scene of the 
 murder and the servants. The Count at once con- 
 voked his domestics and bade them be in the house 
 next day, ready for examination. 
 
 That same afternoon the cook, Margaret Eyrich by 
 name, was engaged in the kitchen preparing dinner 
 for the master, who dined at 4 P.M. At three o'clock 
 the servant-man, John Stauff, came into the kitchen 
 and told the cook that her master wanted a fire lit in 
 one of the upper rooms. She refused to go because 
 she was busy at the stove. Stauff remained a quarter 
 of an hour there talking to her. Then he said it was 
 high time for him to lay the table for dinner, a remark 
 to which she gave an assent, wondering in her own 
 mind why he had delayed so long. He took up a 
 soup dish, observed that it was not quite clean, and 
 asked her to wash it. She was then engaged on some 
 sauce over the fire. 
 
 " I will wash it, if you will stir the sauce," she said. 
 " If I leave the pan, the sauce will be burnt." 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 217 
 
 Stauff consented, and she went with the dish to the 
 sink. Whilst thus engaged, she turned her head, and 
 was surprised to see that Stauff had a small phial in 
 his hand, and was pouring its contents into the sauce. 
 
 She asked him what he was about ; he denied 
 having done anything, and the woman, with great 
 prudence, said nothing further, so as not to let him 
 think that her suspicions were aroused. Directly, 
 however, that he had left the kitchen, she examined 
 the sauce, saw it was discoloured, and on trying it, 
 that the taste was unpleasant. She called in the 
 ■coachman and the housekeeper. On consultation 
 they decided that this matter must be further investi- 
 gated. The housekeeper took charge of the sauce, 
 and carried it to Dr. Stegmayer, the family physician, 
 who at once said that verdigris had been mixed with 
 it, and desired that the police should be communi- 
 cated with. This was done, the sauce was analysed, 
 .and found to contain 15^ grains of verdigris, enough 
 to poison a man. Thereupon Stauff was arrested. 
 
 We see now that an attempt had been made on 
 the life of the Count, on the day on which he had 
 announced that an official inquiry into the murder was 
 to be made in his house and among his domestics. 
 
 Stauff, then, was apparently desirous of putting the 
 Count out of the way before that inquiry was made. 
 At this very time a terrible tragedy had occurred in 
 France, and was in all the papers. The Duke of 
 Praslin had murdered his wife, and when he was 
 about to be arrested, the duke had poisoned himself. 
 
 Did Stauff wish that the Count should be found 
 poisoned that night, in order that the public might 
 
218 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 come to the conclusion he had committed suicide to 
 escape arrest ? It would seem so. 
 
 John Stauff's arrest took place on November 3 > 
 1847, four months and a half after the death of the 
 Countess. He was, however, only arrested on a 
 charge of attempting to poison the Count, and the 
 further charge of having murdered the Countess was 
 not brought against him till August 28, 1848. The 
 body of the murdered woman, it will be remembered,, 
 was not exhumed and examined till August 11, 1848 
 —eight months after the re-opening of the investiga- 
 tion ! It is really wonderful that the mystery should 
 have been cleared and the Count's character satisfac- 
 torily vindicated, with such dilatoriness of proceeding. 
 One more instance of the stupid way in which the 
 whole thing was managed. Although John Stauff 
 was charged with the attempt to poison on November 
 3, 1847, he was not questioned on the charge till 
 January 10, 1849, that is, till he had been fourteen, 
 months in prison. 
 
 It will be remembered that the bell-rope in the 
 Countess's parlour was torn down. It would suggest 
 itself to the meanest capacity that here was a point 
 of departure for inquiry. If the bell had been torn 
 down, it must have pealed its summons for help 
 through the house. Who was in the house at the 
 time? If anyone was, why did he not answer the 
 appeal? Inconceivable was the neglect of the magis- 
 trates of Darmstadt in the first examination — they 
 did not inquire. Only several months later was this 
 matter subjected to investigation. 
 
 In the house lived the Count and Countess, the 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 219 
 
 cook, who also acted as chambermaid to the Countess, 
 Schiller, the valet to the Count, Schambs, the coach- 
 man, and the Countess's own servant-man, John 
 Stauff. Of these Schiller and Schambs did not sleep 
 in the house. 
 
 June 13, the day of the murder, was a Sunday. 
 The Count went as usual to the grand-ducal palace 
 in his coach at 3 P.M. The coachman drove him ; 
 Stauff sat on the box beside the coachman. They left 
 the Count at the palace and returned home. They 
 were ordered to return to the palace to fetch him at 
 6 p.m. On Sundays, the Count usually spent his day 
 in his own suite of apartments, and the Countess in 
 hers. On the morning in question she had come 
 downstairs to her husband with a bundle of coupons 
 which she wanted him to cash for her on the morrow. 
 He managed her fortune for her. The sum was small, 
 only £^0. At 2 P.M. she went to the kitchen to tell the 
 cook she might go out for the afternoon, as she would 
 not be wanted, and that she must return by 9 P.M. 
 
 At three o'clock the cook left. The cook saw and 
 spoke to her as she left. The Countess was then 
 partially undressed, and the cook supposed she was 
 changing her clothes. Shortly after this, Schiller, 
 the Count's valet, saw and spoke with her. She was 
 then upstairs in the laundry arranging the linen for the 
 mangle. She was then in her morning cotton dress. 
 Consequently she had not dressed herself to go out, 
 as the cook supposed. At the same time the carriage 
 left the court of the house for the palace. That was 
 the last seen of her alive, except by John Stauff, and, 
 if he was not the murderer, by one other. 
 
220 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 About a quarter past three the coach returned with 
 Schambs and StaufF on the box. The Count had 
 been left at the palace. The coachman took out his 
 horses, without unharnessing them, and left for his 
 own house, at half-past three, to remain there till 5 
 o'clock, when he must return, put the horses in, and 
 drive back to the palace to fetch the Count. A 
 quarter of an hour after the coachman left, Schiller 
 went out for a walk with his little boy. 
 
 Consequently — none were in the house but the 
 Countess and Stauff, and Stauff knew that the house 
 was clear till 5 o'clock, when Schambs would re- 
 turn to the stables. What happened during that 
 time ? 
 
 At a quarter past four, the wife of Schiller came to 
 the house with a little child, and a stocking she was 
 knitting. She wanted to know if her husband had 
 gone with the boy to Eberstadt, a place about four 
 miles distant. She went to the back-door. It was 
 not fastened, but on being opened rang a bell, like a 
 shop door. Near it were two rooms, one occupied 
 by Schiller, the other by Stauff. The wife went into 
 her husband's room and found it empty. Then she 
 went into that of Stauff. It also was empty. She 
 returned into the entrance hall and listened. Every- 
 thing was still in the house. She stood there some little 
 while knitting and listening. Presently she heard steps 
 descending the backstairs, and saw Stauff, with an 
 apron about him, and a duster in his hand. She asked 
 him if her husband had gone to Eberstadt, and he 
 said that he had. Then she left the house. Stauff, 
 however, called to her from the window to hold up 
 
THE COUNTESS G0ERL17Z. 221 
 
 the child to him, to kiss. She did so, and then 
 departed. 
 
 Shortly after five, Schambs returned to the stable, 
 put in the horses, and drove to the palace without 
 seeing Stauff. He thought nothing of this, as Stauff 
 usually followed on foot, in time to open the coach 
 door for the Count. On this occasion, Stauff appeared 
 at his post in livery, at a quarter to six. At half-past 
 six both returned with their master to the house in 
 Neckar Street. 
 
 Accordingly, from half-past three to a quarter past 
 four, and from half-past four to half-past five, Stauff 
 was alone in the house with the Countess. But then, 
 from a quarter to five to half-past five she was quite 
 alone, and it was possible that the murder was com- 
 mitted at that time. The Count, it will be remembered, 
 on his return, went upstairs and knocked at the door 
 of the Countess' apartments, without meeting with a 
 response. Probably, therefore, she was then dead. 
 
 At seven o'clock the coachman went away, and 
 Stauff helped the Count to take off his court dining 
 dress, and put on a light suit. He was with him till 
 half-past seven, when the Count went out for a walk. 
 The Count returned at half-past eight ; during an 
 hour, therefore, Stauff was alone in the house with the 
 Countess, or — her corpse. 
 
 What occurred during that hour ? Here two inde- 
 pendent pieces of evidence come in to assist us in 
 determining what took place. At five minutes past 
 eight, Colonel von Stockhausen had seen the column 
 of black smoke issue from the chimney of the house ; 
 it ascended, he said, some fifteen feet above the chim- 
 
222 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 ney, and was so dense that it rivetted his attention 
 whilst he was talking to a lady. 
 
 At about a quarter-past eight the smoke ceased. 
 
 The reader may remember that the window of the 
 inner boudoir did not look into the Neckar Street, 
 but into a small side street. Immediately opposite 
 lived a widow lady named Kekule. On the evening 
 in question, her daughter, Augusta, a girl of eighteen, 
 came in from a walk, and went upstairs to the room 
 the window of which was exactly opposite, though at 
 a somewhat higher level than the window of the 
 boudoir. Looking out of her window, Augusta 
 Kekule saw to her astonishment a flickering light like 
 a lambent flame in the boudoir. A blind was down, 
 so that she could see nothing distinctly. She was, 
 however, alarmed, and called her brother Augustus, 
 aged twenty years, and both watched the flames flash- 
 ing in the room. They called their mother also, 
 and all three saw it flare up high, then decrease, 
 and go out. The time was 8.15. On examina- 
 tion of the spot, it was seen that the window of 
 Miss Kekule commanded the corner of the boudoir, 
 where was the divan partly burnt through in several 
 places. 
 
 What was the meaning of these two appearances, 
 the smoke and the flame ? Apparently, from half- 
 past seven to half-past eight the murderer was 
 engaged in burning the body, and in effacing with fire 
 the blood-stains on the sofas. During this time John 
 Stauff was in the house, and, beside the Countess, 
 alive or dead, John Stauff only. 
 
 Stauff was now subjected to examination. He was 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 23 
 
 required to account for his time on the afternoon and 
 evening of Sunday, June 13. 
 
 He said, that after his return from the palace, that 
 is, about ten minutes past three, he went into his 
 room on the basement, and ate bread and cheese. 
 When told that the wife of Schiller stated she had 
 seen him come downstairs, he admitted that he had 
 run upstairs to fetch a duster, to brush away the bread 
 crumbs from the table at which he had eaten. After 
 the woman left, according to his own account, he re- 
 mained in his room below till five o'clock, when the 
 Countess came to the head of the stairs and called 
 him. He went up and found her on the topmost 
 landing ; she went into the laundry, and he stood in 
 the door whilst she spoke to him, and gave him some 
 orders for the butcher and baker. She wore, he said, 
 a black stuff gown. Whilst he was talking to 'her, 
 Schambs drove away to fetch the Count. He gave a 
 correct account of what followed, up to the departure 
 of the Count on his walk. After that, he said, he 
 had written a letter to his sweetheart, and at eight 
 went out to get his supper at an outdoor restaurant 
 where he remained till half-past nine. He was unable 
 to produce evidence of anyone who had seen him and 
 spoken to him there ; but, of course, much cannot be 
 made of this, owing to the distance of time at which 
 the evidence was taken from the event of the murder. 
 According to his account, therefore, no one was in 
 the house at the time when the smoke rose from 
 the chimney, and the flame was seen in the bou- 
 doir. 
 
 If we sum up the points determined concerning the 
 
224 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 murder of the Countess, we shall see how heavily the 
 evidence told against Stauff. 
 
 She had been attacked in her room, and after a 
 desperate struggle, which went on in both parlour and 
 boudoir, she had been killed. 
 
 Her secretaire had been robbed. 
 
 Her body had been burnt. 
 
 The blood-stains had been effaced by fire. 
 
 The secretaire had been set fire to ; and, apparently, 
 the body removed from where it had been partially 
 consumed, and placed near it. 
 
 Now all this must have taken time. It could only 
 be done by one who knew that he had time in which 
 to effect it undisturbed. 
 
 John Stauff was at two separate times, in the after- 
 noon and evening, alone in the house for an hour, 
 knowing that during that time he would be undis- 
 turbed. 
 
 If his account were true, the murder must have 
 been committed during his brief absence with the 
 coach, and the burning of the body, and setting fire 
 to the room, done when he went out to get his supper. 
 But — how could the murderer suppose he would leave 
 the house open and unprotected at eight o'clock ? 
 Was it likely that a murderer and robber, after having 
 killed the Countess and taken her jewels at six o'clock, 
 would hang about till eight, waiting the chance of 
 getting back to the scene of his crime unobserved, to 
 attempt to disguise it? not knowing, moreover, how 
 much time he would have for effecting his purpose ? 
 
 It was possible that this had been done, but it was 
 not probable. 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 225 
 
 Evidence was forthcoming from a new quarter that 
 served to establish the guilt of Stauff. 
 
 On October 6, 1847, an oilman, Henry Stauff, in 
 Oberohmen, in Hesse Cassel, was arrested, because 
 he was found to be disposing of several articles of 
 jewelry, without being able to give a satisfactory 
 account of where he got them. The jewelry consisted 
 of a lump of molten gold, and some brooches, bracelets 
 and rings. 
 
 Henry Stauff had been a whitesmith in his youth, 
 then he became a carrier, but in the last few years, 
 since the death of his wife, he had sold knives, and 
 been a knife-grinder. He was very poor, and had 
 been unable to pay his rates. In July of 1847, how- 
 ever, his affairs seemed to have mended ; he wore a 
 silver watch, and took out a licence to deal in oil and 
 seeds. When he applied for the patent, the burgo- 
 master was surprised, and asked him how he could get 
 stock to set up business, in his state of poverty. 
 Thereupon, Henry Stauff opened his purse and 
 showed that it contained a good amount of silver, and 
 — with the coins was a gold ring with, apparently, a 
 precious stone in it. 
 
 The cause of his arrest was his offering the lump 
 of gold to a silversmith in Cassel. It looked so much 
 as if it was the melting up of jewelry, that the smith 
 communicated with the police. On his arrest, Henry 
 Stauff said he was the father of four children, two 
 sons and two daughters ; that his sons,^one of whom 
 was in the army, had sent him money, that his 
 daughter in America had given him the jewelry, and 
 that the gold he had had by him for several years, it 
 
226 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 had been given him by a widow, who was dead. The 
 silver watch he had bought in Frankfort. Henry 
 Stauff had a daughter at home, name Anna Margar- 
 etta, who often received letters from Darmstadt. One 
 of these letters had not been stamped, and as she 
 declined to pay double for it, it lay in the post-office 
 till opened to be returned. Then it was found to be 
 dated September 29, 1847, and to be from her brother, 
 John Stauff. It simply contained an inclosure to her 
 father ; this was opened ; it contained an angry re- 
 monstrance with him for not having done what he 
 was required, and sent the money at once to the writer. 
 
 Was it possible that this had reference to the dis- 
 posal of the jewelry ? 
 
 On July 7, three weeks after the death of the 
 Countess, Henry Stauff was at Darmstadt, where one 
 son, Jacob, was in the army ; the other, John, was in 
 service with the Goerlitz family. 
 
 This led the magistrates in Cassel to communicate 
 with those in Darmstadt. On November 10, John 
 Stauff was questioned with reference to his father. 
 He said he had often sent him money. He was shown 
 the jewelry, and asked if he recognised it. He denied 
 having ever seen it, and having sent it to his father. 
 
 The jewelry was shown to Count Goerlitz, and he 
 immediately identified it as having belonged to his 
 wife. A former lady's-maid of the Countess also 
 identified the articles. The Count, and a maid, as- 
 serted that these articles had always been kept by 
 the deceased lady in the small upper drawers of her 
 secretaire. The Countess was vain and miserly, and 
 often looked over her jewelry. She would, certainly, 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 227 
 
 have missed her things had they been stolen before 
 June 13. 
 
 The articles had not been stolen since, found 
 among the ashes, and carried off surreptitiously, for 
 they showed no trace of fire. 
 
 Here we must again remark on the extraordinary 
 character of the proceedings in this case. The articles 
 were identified and shown to John Stauff on Novem- 
 ber 10, 1847, but it was not till ten months after, on 
 August 28, 1848, that he was told that he was sus- 
 pected of the murder of the Countess, and of having 
 robbed her of these ornaments. Another of the 
 eccentricities of the administration of justice in Darm- 
 stadt consisted in allowing the father Henry, and his 
 son John, to have free private communication with 
 each other, whilst the latter was in prison, and thus 
 allowing them to concoct together a plausible account 
 of their conduct, with which, however, we need not 
 trouble ourselves. 
 
 On September 1, 1848, on the fourth day after 
 Stauff knew that he was charged with the murder of 
 the Countess, he asked to make his statement of what 
 really took place. This was the account he gave. 
 It will be seen that, from the moment he knew the 
 charge of murder was brought against him, he altered 
 his defence. 
 
 He said, " On June 20, 1847," (that is, a week after 
 the murder), " about ten o'clock in the evening, after 
 the Count had partaken of his supper and undressed, 
 he brought me a box containing jewelry, and told me 
 he would give it to me, as I was so poor, and that it 
 would place my father and me in comfortable circum- 
 
228 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 stances. I then told the Count that I did not know 
 what to do with these jewels, whereupon he exhorted 
 me to send them to my father, and get him to dispose 
 of them. He told me that he required me solemnly 
 to swear that I would not tell anyone about the 
 jewels. I hid the box in a stocking and concealed it 
 in some bushes on the Bessungen road. Later I told 
 my brother Jacob where they were, and bade him 
 give them to my father on his visit to Darmstadt." 
 
 When Stauff was asked what reason he could 
 assign for the Count giving him the jewels, he said 
 that the Count saw that he, John Stauff, suspected 
 him of the murder, and he named several circum- 
 stances, such as observing blood on the Count's hand- 
 kerchief on the evening of the murder, which had led 
 him to believe that the Count was guilty, and the 
 Count was aware of his suspicions. 
 
 On March 4, 1850, began the trial of John Stauff 
 for the murder of the Countess, for robbery, for arson, 
 and for attempt to poison the Count. 
 
 At the same time his father, Henry Stauff, and his 
 brother, Jacob Stauff, were tried for concealment of 
 stolen goods. The trial came to an end on April 11. 
 As many as 118 witnesses were heard ; among these 
 was the Count Goerlitz, as to whose innocence no 
 further doubts were entertained. 
 
 John Stauff was at that time aged twenty-six, he 
 was therefore twenty-four years old at the time of 
 the murder. He had been at school at Oberohmen, 
 where he had shown himself an apt and intelligent 
 scholar. In 1844 he had entered the grand-ducal 
 army, and in May 1846 had become servant in the 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 229 
 
 Goerlitz house, as footman to the Countess. In his 
 regiment he had behaved well ; he had been accounted 
 an excellent servant, and both his master and mistress 
 placed confidence in him. Curiously enough, in the 
 autumn of 1846, he had expressed a wish to a cham- 
 bermaid of the Countess " that both the Countess and 
 her pack of jewels, bracelets and all, might be burnt in 
 one heap." 
 
 When the maid heard of the death of the Countess 
 in the following year, " Ah ! " she said, " now Stauff' s 
 wish has been fulfilled to the letter." 
 
 He was fond of talking of religion, and had the 
 character among his fellow-servants of being pious. 
 He was, however, deep in debt, and associated with 
 women of bad character. Throughout the trial he 
 maintained his composure, his lips closed, his colour 
 pale, without token of agitation. But the man who 
 could have stood by without showing emotion at the 
 opening of the coffin of his mistress, at the sight of 
 the half-burnt, half-decomposed remains of his victim, 
 must have had powers of self-control of no ordinary 
 description. During the trial he seemed determined 
 to show that he was a man of some culture ; he ex- 
 hibited ease of manner and courtesy towards judges, 
 jury, and lawyers. He never interrupted a witness, 
 and when he questioned them, did so with intelli- 
 gence and moderation. He often looked at the 
 public, especially the women, who attended in great 
 numbers, watching the effect of the evidence on their 
 minds. When, as now and then happened, some 
 ludicrous incident occurred, he laughed over it as 
 heartily as the most innocent looker-on. 
 
230 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 The jury unanimously found him " guilty " on 
 every count. They unanimously gave a verdict of 
 " guilty " against his father and brother. Henry 
 Stauff was sentenced to six months' imprisonment ; 
 Jacob Stauff to detention for three months, and John 
 to imprisonment for life. At that time capital punish- 
 ment could not be inflicted in Hesse. 
 
 On June 3, he was taken to the convict prison of 
 Marienschloss. On July 1, he appealed to the Grand- 
 Duke to give him a free pardon, as he was innocent 
 of the crimes for which he was sentenced. The 
 appeal was rejected. Then he professed his inten- 
 tion of making full confession. He asked to see the 
 Count. He professed himself a broken-hearted peni- 
 tent, desirous of undoing, by a sincere confession, as 
 much of the evil as was possible. 
 
 We will give his confession in his own words. 
 
 " When, at five o'clock, I went to announce to the 
 Countess that I was about to go to the palace, I 
 found both the glass door of the ante-room, and that 
 into the sitting-room, open, and I walked in through 
 them. I did not find the Countess in her parlour, of 
 which the curtains were drawn. Nor was she in her 
 boudoir. I saw the door into the little corner room 
 ajar, so I presumed she was in there. The flap of 
 her desk was down, so that I saw the little drawers, 
 in which I knew she kept her valuables, accessible to 
 my hand. Opportunity makes the thief. I was 
 unable to resist the temptation to enrich myself by 
 these precious articles. I opened one of the drawers, 
 took out a gold bracelet, one of gold filigree, two of 
 bronze, a pair of gold ear-rings, a gold brooch, and a 
 
THE COUNTESS G0ERL1TZ. 231 
 
 triple chain of beads or Roman pearls ; and pocketed 
 these articles, which my father afterwards had, and, 
 for the most part, melted up. 
 
 " Most of these articles were in their cases. At 
 that moment the Countess appeared on the threshold 
 of her boudoir and rushed towards me. I do not 
 remember what she exclaimed ; fear for the conse- 
 quences, and anxiety to prevent the Countess from 
 making a noise and calling assistance, and thereby 
 obtaining my arrest, prevailed in my mind, and I 
 thought only how I might save myself. I grasped 
 her by the neck, and pressed my thumbs into her 
 throat. She struggled desperately. I was obliged to 
 use all my strength to hold her. After a wrestle of 
 between five and seven minutes, her eyes closed, her 
 face became purple, and I felt her limbs relax. 
 
 " When I saw she was dead I was overcome with 
 terror. I let the body fall, whereby the head struck 
 the corner of the left side of the secretaire, and this 
 made a wound which began to bleed. Then I ran 
 and locked both the doors, hid what I had taken in 
 my bed, and left the house. On my way to the 
 palace, I stepped into Frey's tavern and drank three 
 glasses of wine. I was afraid I should arrive too late 
 at the palace, where I appeared, however, at half-past 
 five. The Count did not return till half-past six, as 
 dinner that day lasted rather longer than usual. 
 
 " When the Count went upstairs to see his wife and 
 take her something good he had brought away with 
 him from table, I was not uneasy at all, for I knew 
 that he would knock and come away if he met with 
 no response. So he did. He came down without 
 
232 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 being discomposed, and remarked that he fancied the 
 Countess had gone out. At half-past seven he left 
 the house. In the mean time I had been considering 
 what to do, and had formed my plan. Now my 
 opportunity had arrived, and I hastened to put it into 
 execution. My plan was to efface every trace of my 
 deed by fire, and to commit suicide if interrupted. 
 
 " As the weather was chilly, the Count had some 
 fire in his stove. I fetched the still glowing charcoal, 
 collected splinters of firwood and other combustibles, 
 and matches, and went upstairs with them. Only 
 the wine sustained me through what I carried out. I 
 took up the body. I put a chair before the open 
 desk, seated the corpse on it, placed one arm on the 
 desk, laid the head on the arm, so that the body 
 reposed in a position of sleep, leaning on the flap of 
 the desk. I threw the red hot charcoal down under 
 the head, heaped matches, paper, and wood splinters 
 over them ; took one of the blazing bits of wood and 
 threw it on the divan in the boudoir ; locked both 
 doors, and flung away the keys. 
 
 " Then I went to my own room and lighted a fire 
 in the stove, and put the jewel cases on the fire. The 
 fire would not burn well, and thick smoke came into 
 the room. Then I saw that the damper was closed. 
 I opened that, and the smoke flew up the chimney ; 
 this is what Colonel von Stockhausen saw. There 
 were a lot of empty match-boxes also in the stove, 
 and these burnt with the rest." 
 
 Such was the confession of Stauff. How far true, 
 it is impossible to say. He said nothing about the 
 bell-pull being torn down, nothing about the holes 
 
THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 233 
 
 burnt in the sofa of the sitting-room. According to 
 the opinion of some experimentalists, the way in 
 which he pretended to have burnt the Countess would 
 not account for the appearance of the corpse. 
 
 His object was to represent himself as the victim 
 of an over-mastering temptation — to show that the 
 crime was wholly unpremeditated. 
 
 This was the sole plea on which he could appeal 
 for sympathy, and expect a relaxation of his sentence. 
 
 That sentence was relaxed. 
 
 In 1872 he obtained a free pardon from the Grand- 
 Duke, on condition that he left the country and 
 settled in America. Including his imprisonment 
 before his trial, he had, therefore, undergone twenty- 
 five years of incarceration. 
 
 When released he went to America, where he 
 probably still is. 
 
a Way-an&-1bone£-fll>oon* 
 
 In the history of Selenography, John Henry Maedler 
 holds a distinguished place. He was the very first to 
 publish a large map of the lunar surface ; and his 
 map was a good one, very accurate, and beautifully 
 executed, in four sheets (1834-6). For elucidation of 
 this map he wrote a book concerning the moon, en- 
 titled " The Universal Selenography." Not content 
 with this, he published a second map of the moon in 
 1837, embodying fresh discoveries. Indeed as an 
 astronomer, Maedler was a specialist. Lord Dufferin 
 when in Iceland met a German naturalist who had 
 gone to that inclement island to look for one moth. 
 It is of the nature of Teutonic scientific men not to 
 diffuse their interests over many branches of natural 
 history or other pursuits, but to focus them on a 
 single point. Maedler was comparatively indifferent 
 to the planets, cold towards the comets, and callous 
 to the attractions of the nebulae. On the subject of 
 the moon, he was a sheer lunatic. 
 
 He died at Hanover in 1874 at the age of eighty, a 
 moon gazer to the last. Indeed, he appeared before 
 the public as the historian of that science in a work 
 published at Brunswick, the year previous to his 
 death. ' The study of astronomy, more than any other,. 
 — even than theology — detaches a man from the 
 world and its interests. Indeed theology as a study 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 235 
 
 has a tendency to ruffle a man, and make him 
 bark and snap at his fellow men who use other 
 telescopes than himself; it is not so with astronomy. ^ 
 (This science exercises a soothing influence on those 
 who make it their study, so that an Adams and a Le 
 Verrier can simultaneously discover a Neptune with- 
 out flying at each other's noses. 
 
 /Astronomy is certainly an alluring science ; set an 
 astronomer before a telescope, and an overwhelming 
 attraction draws his soul away through the tube up 
 into heaven, and leaves his body without mundane 
 interests. 'An astronomer is necessarily a mathemati- 
 cian, and mathematics are the hardest and most 
 petrifying of studies. The " humane letters," as 
 classic studies are called, draw out the human in- 
 terests, they necessarily carry men among men, but 
 mathematics draw men away from all the interests of 
 their fellows. The last man one expects to find in 
 love, the last man in whose life one looks for a 
 romantic episode, is a mathematician and astronomer. 
 But as even Caesar nods, so an astronomer may lapse 
 into spooning. The life of Professor Maedler does 
 not contain much of animated interest ; but it had its 
 poetic incident. The curious story of his courtship 
 and marriage may be related without indiscretion, 
 now that the old Selenographer is no more. 
 
 (Even the most prosaic of men have their time of 
 poetry. The swan is said to sing only once — just be- 
 fore it dies. The man of business — the stockbroker, 
 the insurance-company manager, the solicitor, banker, 
 the ironmonger, butcher, greengrocer, postman, have 
 all passed through a " moment," as Hegel would call 
 
236 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 it, when the soul burst through its rind of common- 
 place and vulgar routine, sang its nightingale song, 
 and then was hushed for ever after. It is said that 
 there are certain flowers which take many years com- 
 ing to the point of bloom, they open, exhale a flood 
 of incense, and in an hour wither. It is so with many. 
 Even the astronomer has his blooming time. Then, 
 after the honeymoon, the flower withers, the song 
 ceases, the sunshine fades, and folds of the fog of 
 common-place settle deeper than before. 
 
 £lvan Turgenieff, the Russian novelist, says of love, 
 f It is not an emotion, it is a malady, attacking soul 
 and body. It is developed without rule, it cannot be 
 reckoned with, it cannot be overreached. It lays 
 hold of a man, without asking leave, like a fever or 
 the cholera. It seizes on its prey as a falcon on a 
 dove, and carries it, where it wills. There is no 
 equality in love. The so-termed free inclination of 
 souls towards each other is an idle dream of German 
 professors, who have never loved. No ! of two who 
 love, one is the slave, the other is the lord, and not 
 inaccurately have the poets told of the chains of 
 love." 
 
 But love when it does lay hold of a man assumes 
 some features congruent to his natural habit. It is 
 hardly tempestuous in a phlegmatic temperament, 
 nor is a man of sanguine nature liable to be much in- 
 fluenced by calculations of material advantages. 
 That calculations should form a constituent portion 
 of the multiform web of a mathematician's passion is 
 what we might anticipate. 
 
 It will be interesting to see in a German professor 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 237 
 
 devoted to the severest, most abstract and super- 
 mundane of studies, the appearance, course, and dying 
 away of the " malady " of love. We almost believe 
 that this case is so easy of analysis that the very 
 bacillus may be discovered. 
 
 Before, however, we come to the story of Professor 
 Maedler's love episode, we must say a word about his 
 previous history. 
 
 Maedler was born at Berlin on May 29th, 1794, in 
 the very month of love, though at its extreme end. 
 He began life as a schoolmaster, but soared in his 
 leisure hours into a purer atmosphere than that of the 
 schoolroom ; he began to study the stars, and found 
 them brighter and more interesting than the heads of 
 his pupils. 
 
 In 1828 William Beer, the Berlin banker, brother of 
 the great composer, Meyerbeer, a Jew, built a small 
 observatory in the suburbs of Berlin. He had made 
 the acquaintance of Maedler, they had the same love 
 of the stars, and they became close friends. 
 
 The Beers were a gifted family, running out in 
 different directions. Michael, a third brother, was a 
 poet, and wrote tragedies, one or two of which occa- 
 sionally reappear on the boards. 
 
 The result of the nightly star gazings was an article 
 on Mars when in opposition, with a drawing of the 
 surface as it appeared to Beer and Maedler, through 
 the telescope of the former. 
 
 But Mars did not admit of much further scrutiny, 
 it presented no more problems they were capable of 
 solving, so they devoted themselves to the moon. A 
 gourmand exists from dinner to dinner, that meal is 
 
238 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 the climax of his vitality, that past he lapses into in- 
 ertness, indifference, quiescence. Full moon was the 
 exciting moment of the periods in Maedler's life, 
 which was divided, not like a gourmand's day, into 
 periods of twenty-four hours, but into lunar months. 
 When the moon began to show, Maedler began to live ; 
 his interest, the pulses of his life quickened as full moon 
 approached, then declined and went to sleep when there 
 was no lunar disc in the sky. From 1834 to 1836 he 
 issued his great map of the moon, and so made his 
 name. But beyond that, in the summer of 1833 he 
 was employed by the Russian Government on a 
 chronometrical expedition in the Baltic. 
 
 When his map came out, he was at once secured by 
 the Prussian Government as assistant astronomer to 
 the observatory at Berlin, recently erected. In 1840 
 he became a professor, and was summoned to take 
 charge of the observatory, and lecture on astronomy, 
 in the Russian University of Dorpat. There he spent 
 six uneventful years. He was unmarried, indifferent 
 to female society, and as cold as his beloved moon. 
 He was as solitary, as far removed from the ideas of 
 love and matrimony, as the Man in the Moon. 
 
 /At last, one vacation time, he paid a long deferred 
 visit to a friend, a Selenologist, at Groningen, the 
 University of the Kingdom of Hanover. Whilst 
 smoking, drinking beer, and talking over the craters 
 and luminous streaks in the moon, with his friend, 
 who was also a professor, that gentleman drew his 
 pipe from his mouth, blew a long spiral from between 
 his lips, and then said slowly, " By the way, professor, 
 are you aware that we have here, in this kingdom, 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 239 
 
 not, indeed, in Groningen, but in the town of Hanover, 
 a lady, the wife of the Herr Councillor Witte, who is, 
 like yourself, devoted to the moon ; a lady, who 
 spends entire nights on the roof of her house peering 
 at the face of the moon through one end — the smaller 
 — of her telescope, observing all the prominences, 
 measuring their altitudes, and sounding all the cavities. 
 Indeed, it is asserted that she studies the face and 
 changes of the moon much more closely than the 
 features and moods of her husband. Also, it is 
 asserted, that when the moon is shining, the house- 
 hold duties are neglected, the dinners are bad, the 
 maids — " 
 
 '' O dinners ! maids ! ycu need not consider them ; 
 there are always dinners and maids," said the Dorpat 
 astronomer contemptuously, " but the moon is seen so 
 comparatively rarely. The moon must be made much 
 of when she shows. Everything must then be sacrificed 
 to her." 
 
 Dr. Maedler did not call the moon she, but he ; 
 however, we are writing in English, not in German, so 
 we change the gender. 
 
 [ The Astronomer Royal of the University of 
 Groningen went on, without noticing the interruption: 
 u Frau von Witte has spent a good deal of her 
 husband's money in getting the largest procurable 
 telescope, and has built an observatory for it with a 
 dome that revolves on cannon balls, on the top of her 
 house. Whilst Herr von Witte slumbers and snores 
 beneath, like a Philistine, his enlightened lady is aloft, 
 studying the moon. The Frau Councilloress has done 
 more than observe Luna, she has done more than you 
 
240 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 and Beer together, with your maps — she has modelled 
 it." 
 
 "Modelled it ! — modelled the moon ! — in what ? ' 
 
 " In white wax." 
 
 Professor Maedler's countenance fell. He had 
 gained great renown, not in Germany only, but 
 throughout Europe by his maps of the moon. Here 
 was an unknown lady, as enthusiastic a devotee to 
 the satellite as himself, who had surpassed him. 
 "You see," continued the Hanoverian professor, "the 
 idea is superb, the undertaking colossal. You have a 
 fixed strong light, you make the wax moon to revolve 
 on its axis, and you reproduce in the most surprising 
 and exact manner, all the phases of the moon itself." 
 
 This was indeed an idea. Maedler looked at his 
 hands, his fingers. Would they be capable of model- 
 ling such a globe? Hardly, he had very broad coarse 
 hands, and thick flat fingers, like paddles. He 
 suddenly stood up. 
 
 " What is the matter ? Whither are you going ? " 
 asked his friend. 
 
 " To Hanover, to Frau Witte, to see the wax moon." 
 No persuasion would restrain him, he was in a seleno- 
 logical fever, he could not sleep, he could not eat, he 
 could not read, he must see the wax moon. 
 
 And now, pray observe the craft of Cupid. The 
 professor was aged fifty-two. In vain had the damsels 
 of Berlin and Dorpat set their caps at him. Not a 
 blonde beauty of Saxon race with blue eyes had 
 caught his fancy, not a dark Russian with large hazel 
 eyes and thick black hair, had arrested his attention. 
 His heart had been given to the cold, chaste Diana. 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 241 
 
 It was, with him, the reverse of the tale of Endy- 
 mion. 
 
 /He had written a treatise on the occultation of 
 Mars, he had described the belts of Saturn, he had 
 even measured his waist. Venus he had neglected, 
 and now Cupid was about to avenge the slight passed 
 on his mother. There was but one avenue by which 
 access might be had to the professor's heart. The 
 God of Love knew it, and resolved to storm the 
 citadel through this avenue. Dr. Maedler packed his 
 trunk himself in the way in which unmarried men 
 and abstract thinkers do pack their portmanteaus. 
 He bundled all his clothes in together, higglety- 
 pigglety. The only bit of prudence he showed was 
 to put the pomatum pot into a stocking. His collars 
 he curled up in the legs of his boots. Copies of his 
 astronomical pamphlets for presentation, lay in layers 
 between his shirts. Then as the trunk would not 
 close, the Professor of Astronomy sat down heavily 
 on it, stood up, then sharply sat down on it again, and 
 repeated this operation, till coats, trousers, linen, 
 pamphlets, brushes and combs had been crushed 
 together into one cohesive mass, and so the lock 
 would fasten. 
 
 I I*To sooner was Dr. Maedler arrived at his inn in 
 Hanover, and had dusted the collar of his coat, and 
 revolved before the gargon who went over him with a 
 clothes brush, revolved like the moon he loved, than 
 he sallied forth in quest of the house of the Wittes. 
 There was no mistaking it — with the domed observa- 
 tory on the roof. 
 /"Dr. Maedler stood in the square, looking up at it. 
 
 Q 
 
242 HISTORIC ODDITIES, 
 
 The sight of an observatory touched him ; and now, 
 hard and dry as he was, moisture came into his eyes, 
 as he thought that there, on that elevated station, an 
 admirable woman spent her nights in the contempla- 
 tion of the moon. What was Moses on Pisgah, viewing 
 the Promised Land, what was Simeon Stylites brav- 
 ing storm and cold, to this spectacle ? 
 
 Never before had the astronomer met with one of 
 the weaker sex who cared a button for the moon, qua 
 moon, and not as a convenience for illumining lovers' 
 meetings, or for an allusion in a valentine. Here was 
 an heroic soul which surged, positively surged above the 
 frivolities of her sex, one who aspired to be the rival 
 of man in intelligence and love of scientific research. 
 
 Professor Maedler sent in his card, and a letter of 
 introduction from his friend at Groningen, and was at 
 once admitted. He had formed an ideal picture of 
 the Selenographic lady, tall, worn with night watch- 
 ing, with an arched brow, large, clear eyes. He found 
 her a fat little woman, with a face as round and as 
 fiat as that of the moon, not by any means pale, but 
 red as the moon in a fog. 
 
 <The lady was delighted to make the acquaintance 
 of so renowned an astronomer. She made him pretty 
 speeches about his map, at the same time letting him 
 understand that a map was all very well, but she 
 knew of something better. Then she launched out 
 into a criticism of his pamphlets on Mars and Saturn, 
 on which, as it happened, he was then sitting. He 
 had put a crumpled copy in each of his tail-coat 
 pockets for an offering, and was now doubly crump- 
 ling them. Then she asked his opinion about the 
 
/ 
 
 A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 243 
 
 revolution and orbit of Biela's comet, which had been 
 seen the preceding year. Next she carried him to 
 Hencke's recently discovered planet, Astraea ; after 
 that she dashed away, away with him to the nebulae, 
 and sought to resolve them with his aid. Then down 
 they whirled together through space to the sun, and 
 the luminous red protuberances observable at an 
 eclipse. Another step, and they were plunging down 
 to earth, had reached it in safety, and were discussing 
 Lord Rosses recently erected telescope. It was like 
 Dante and Beatrix, with this difference, that Maedler 
 was not a poet, and Frau Witte was a married woman. 
 
 The Professor was uneasy. Charming as is a tele- 
 scope, delightful as is the sun, fascinating as Astraea 
 may be, still, the moon, the moon was what he had 
 come to discuss, and wax moon what he had come to 
 see. 
 
 f So he exercised all his skill, and with great dialectic 
 ability conducted his Beatrix away on another round. 
 They gave the fixed stars a wide berth, dived in and 
 out among the circling planets and planetoids with- 
 out encountering one, avoided the comets, kept their 
 feet off nebulous matter, and at last he planted his 
 companion firmly on the moon, and when there, there 
 he held her. 
 
 To her words of commendation of his lunar map, 
 he replied by expressing his astonishment at her 
 knowledge of the several craters and so-called seas. 
 Presently Frau Witte rose with a smile, and said, 
 " Herr Professor, I may, perhaps, be allowed to ex- 
 hibit a trifle on which I have been engaged for many- 
 years : — an independent work that I have compared 
 
244 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 with, but not copied from, your excellent selenic 
 map." 
 
 The doctor's heart fluttered ; his eyes brightened ; 
 a hectic flush came into his cheeks. 
 
 Frau Witte took a key and led the way to her 
 study, where she threw open a mahogany cupboard, 
 and exposed to view something very much like a 
 meat cover. This also she removed, it was composed 
 of the finest silk stretched on a frame, and exposed to 
 view — the wax moon. 
 
 <TThe globe was composed of the purest white bees- 
 wax, it stood upon a steel needle that passed through 
 it, and rested on pivots, so that the globe was held 
 up and held firm, and could be easily made to revolve.. 
 Frau Witte closed the shutters, leaving open only one 
 orifice through which the light could penetrate and 
 fall on the wax ball. 
 
 The doctor raised his hands in admiration. Never 
 had he seen anything that so delighted him. The 
 globe's surface had been most delicately manipulated. 
 The mountains were pinched into peaks, the hollows 
 indented to the requisite depth, the craters were 
 rendered with extraordinary precision, the striae being 
 indicated by insertions of other tinted wax. A sha- 
 dow hung sombre over the mysterious Sea of 
 Storms. 
 
 Professor Maedler returned to his hotel a prey to 
 emotion. He inquired the address of a certain Roll- 
 mann, whom he had known in former years at Berlin, 
 and who was now professor in the Polytechnic school 
 at Hanover. Then he rushed off in quest of Roll- 
 mann. The Polytechnic Professor was delighted to- 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 245 
 
 see his friend, but disturbed at the condition of mind 
 in which he found him. 
 
 " What has brought you to Hanover, dear Pro- 
 fessor ? " he asked. 
 
 " The moon ! the moon ! I have come after the 
 moon." 
 
 " The moon ! How can that be ? She shines 
 over Dorpat as surely as over our roofs in Han- 
 over." 
 
 " I've just seen her." 
 
 "Impossible. The moon is new. Besides, it is 
 broad daylight." 
 
 " New ! of course she is new. Only made lately." 
 
 Professor Rollman was puzzled. 
 
 " The moon is certainly as old as the world, and 
 •even if we give the world so limited an age as four 
 thousand years — " 
 
 " I was not allowed to touch her, scarcely to breathe 
 near her," interrupted Maedler. 
 
 " My dear colleague, what is the matter with you ? 
 You are — what do you say, seen, touched, breathed 
 on the moon ? The distance of the moon from the 
 ■earth is two hundred and forty thousand, miles." 
 
 " Not the old moon — I mean the other." 
 
 " There is no other, that is, not another satellite to 
 this world. I am well aware that Jupiter has four 
 moons, two of which are smaller than the planet Mars. 
 I know also that Mars — " 
 
 " My dear Rollman, there is another — here in Han- 
 over." 
 
 " I give it up. I cannot understand." 
 
 " Happy Hanover to possess such an unique trea- 
 
246 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 sure," continued the excited Maedler, " and such a 
 woman as Frau Witte." 
 
 " Oh ! her wax moon ! " said Rollmann, with a sigh 
 of relief. 
 
 " Of what else could I speak ? " 
 
 " So you have seen that. The old lady is very 
 proud of her performance." 
 
 " She has cause to be proud of it. It is simply 
 superb." 
 
 " And the sight of it has nearly sent you off your 
 head ! " 
 
 " Rollmann ! what will become of that model ? 
 Frau Councilloress Witte will not live for ever. She 
 is old, puffy, and red, and might have apoplexy any 
 day. Is her husband an astronomer ? " 
 
 " O dear no ! he regards astronomy as as unprofit- 
 able a study as astrology. It is quite as expensive a 
 pursuit, he says." 
 
 " Merciful heavens ! Suppose she were to prede- 
 cease — he would have the moon, and be unable to 
 appreciate it. He might let it get dusty, have the 
 craters and seas choked ; perhaps the mountain-tops 
 knocked off. He must not have it." 
 
 " It cannot be helped. The moon must take its 
 chance." 
 
 " It must not be. She must outlive the Councillor." 
 
 "If you can manage that — well." 
 
 " But — supposing she does outlive him, she is not 
 immortal. Some day she must die. Who will have 
 the moon then ? " 
 
 " I suppose, her daughter." 
 
 " What will the daughter do with it ? " 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 247 
 
 " Melt it up for waxing the floors." 
 
 Professor Maedler uttered a cry of dismay. 
 
 "The object is one of incalculable scientific value. 
 Has, the daughter no husband, a man of intelligence, 
 to stay her hand ? " 
 
 " The daughter is unmarried. There was some 
 talk of a theological candidate — " 
 
 " A theological candidate ! An embryo pastor ! 
 Just powers ! These men are all obscurantists. He 
 will melt up the moon thinking thereby to establish 
 the authority of Moses." 
 
 " That came to nothing. She is disengaged." 
 
 Professor Maedler paced the room. Perspiration 
 bedewed his brow. He wiped his forehead, more 
 drops formed. Suddenly he stood still. " Rollmann," 
 he said, in a hollow voice, " I must — I will have that 
 moon, even if I have to marry the daughter to secure 
 it." 
 
 " By all means. Minna is a pleasant young lady." 
 
 " Minna ! Minna ! is that her name ? " asked the 
 distracted professor; then, more coolly, "I do not 
 care a rush what her name is. I want, not her, but 
 the moon." 
 
 " She is no longer in the bloom of early youth." 
 
 " She is an exhausted world ; a globe of volcanic 
 cinder." 
 
 " She is of real solid worth." 
 
 " Solid — she is of solid wax — white beeswax." 
 
 " If she becomes yours — " 
 
 " I will exhibit her at my lectures to the students." 
 
 "As you are so much older, some provision will 
 have to be made in the event of your death." 
 
248 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 " I will leave her to the Dorpat museum, with 
 directions to the curator to keep the dust off her." 
 
 " My dear Professor Maedler, I am speaking of the 
 young lady, yotc of the moon." 
 
 " Ah so ! I had forgotten the incumbrance. Yes, 
 I will marry the moon. I will carry her about with 
 me, hug her in my arms, protect her most carefully 
 from the fingers of the Custom House officers. I will 
 procure an ukase from the Emperor to admit her 
 un fingered over the frontier." 
 
 "And Minna!" 
 
 "What Minna?" 
 
 "The young lady." 
 
 "Ah so! She had slipped out of my reckoning. 
 She shall watch the box whilst I sleep, and whilst 
 she sleeps I will keep guard." 
 
 " Be reasonable, Maedler. Do you mean, in sober 
 earnest, to invite Minna Witte to be your wife ? " 
 
 " If I cannot get the moon any other way." 
 
 " But you have not even seen her yet." 
 
 " What does that matter ? I have seen the moon." 
 
 " And you are in earnest ! " 
 
 " I will have the moon." 
 
 " Then, of course, you will have to propose." 
 
 " I propose !" 
 
 " And, of course, to make love." 
 
 " I make love ! " 
 
 Professor Maedler's colour died away. He stood 
 still before his friend, his pocket-handkerchief in 
 hand, and stared. 
 
 " I have not the remotest idea how to do it." 
 
 "You must try." 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 249 
 
 " I've had no experience. I am going on to fifty- 
 three. As well ask me to dance on the trapeze. It 
 is not proper. It is downright indecent." 
 
 " Then you must do without the wax moon." 
 
 " I cannot do without the wax moon." 
 
 " Then, there is no help for it, you must make love 
 to and propose to the fair Minna." 
 
 " Friend," said the Russian-imperial-professor-of- 
 astronomy-of-the-University-of-Dorpat, as he clasped 
 Rollmann's hand. " You are experienced in the ways 
 of the world. I have lived in an observatory, and associ- 
 ated only with fixed stars, revolving moons, and comets. 
 Tell me how to do it, and I will obey as a lamb." 
 
 " You will have to sigh." 
 
 " O ! I can do that." 
 
 " And ogle the lady." 
 
 " Ogle ! — when going fifty-three ! " 
 
 " Learn a few lines of poetry." 
 
 " Yes, Milton's Paradise Lost. Go on." 
 
 " Tell the young lady that you heart is consumed 
 with love." 
 
 " Consumed with love, yes, go on." 
 
 " Squeeze her hand." 
 
 " I cannot ! That I cannot ! " gasped Professor 
 Maedler. " Look at my whiskers. They are grey. 
 There is a point beyond which I cannot go. Roll- 
 mann, why may I not settle it all with the mother, 
 and let you court the young lady for me by proxy." 
 
 " No, no, you must do it yourself." 
 
 " I would not be jealous. Consider, I care nothing 
 for the young girl. It is the moon I want. That 
 you shall not touch or breathe on." 
 
250 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 " My dear Maecller, you and I are sure to be in- 
 vited to dine with the family on Sunday. After 
 dinner we will take a stroll in the garden. During, 
 dinner mind and be attentive to Miss Minna, and 
 feed her with honeyed words. When we visit the 
 garden I will tackle the mother, as Mephistopheles 
 engages Martha, and you, you gay Faust, will have 
 to be the gallant to Minna." 
 
 " My good Rollmann ! I dislike the simile. It 
 offends me. Consider my age, my whiskers, my 
 position at the Dorpat University, my map of the 
 moon in four sheets, my paper on the occultation of 
 Mars." 
 
 " Pay attention to me, if you want your wax globe. 
 Frau Witte, the Councillor and I will sit drinking 
 coffee in the arbour. You ask Minna to show you the 
 garden. When you are gone I will begin at once with 
 the mother, praise you, and say how comfortably you 
 are provided for at Dorpat, laud your good qualities,, 
 and bring her to understand that you are a suitor for 
 the hand of her daughter. Meanwhile press your 
 cause with ardour." 
 
 " With ardour ! I shall not be able to get up any 
 warmth." 
 
 " Think of the wax moon ! direct your raptures to 
 that." 
 
 " This is all very well," said Maedler fretfully, " but. 
 you have forgotten the main thing. I know you will 
 make a mistake. You have asked for the hand of 
 the daughter, and said nothing about the moon." 
 
 " Do not be concerned." 
 
 " But I am concerned. It would be a pretty mis- 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 2£l 
 
 chief if I got the daughter's hand instead of the face 
 of the moon." 
 
 "I will manage that you have what you want. 
 But the moon must not rise over the matrimonial 
 scene till the preliminaries are settled. I will repre- 
 sent to the old lady what credit will accrue to her if 
 her moon be exhibited and lectured on at the Dorpat 
 University by so distinguished an astronomer as 
 yourself. Then, be well assured, she will give you 
 the wax moon along with her daughter." 
 
 " Very well, I will do what I can. Only, further, 
 explain to me the whole process, that I may learn it 
 by heart. It seems to me as knotty to a beginner as 
 Euler's proof of the Binomial Theorem." 
 
 " It is very easy. Pay attention. You must begin 
 to talk about the fascination which a domestic life 
 exerts on you ; you then say that the sight of such 
 an united household as that in which you find your- 
 self influences you profoundly." 
 
 " I see. Causes a deflection in my perihelion. 
 That deflection is calculable, the force excited calcul- 
 able, the position of the attractive body estimable. I 
 direct my telescope in the direction, and discover 
 — Minna. Put astronomically, I can understand 
 it." 
 
 " But you must not put it astronomically to her. 
 Paint in glowing tints the charms of the domestic 
 hearth — that is to say, of the stove. Touch sadly on 
 your forlorn condition, your unloved heart — are you 
 paying attention, or thinking of the moon ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I was thinking of myself, from a 
 planetary point of view. I see, a wife is a satellite 
 
252 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 revolving round her man. I see it all now. Jupiter 
 has four." 
 
 " Sigh ; let the corners of your mouth droop. 
 Throw, if you can, an emotional vibration into your 
 tones, and say that hitherto life has been to you a 
 school, where you have been set hard tasks ; not a 
 home. Here shake your head slowly, drop a tear if 
 you can, and say again, in a low and thrilling voice, 
 ' Not a home ! ' Now for the poetry. Till now, you 
 add, you have looked into the starry vault — " 
 " It is not a vault at all." 
 
 "Never mind; say this. Till now you have looked 
 into the starry vault for your heaven, and not dreamed 
 that a heaven full of peaceful lights was twinkling in- 
 vitingly about your feet. That is poetical, is it not ? 
 It must succeed/' 
 
 " Quite so, I should never have thought of it." 
 " Then turn, and look into Miss Minna's eyes." 
 " But suppose she is looking in another direction ? " 
 " She will not be. A lady is always ready to help 
 a stumbling lover over the impediments in the way 
 of a declaration. She will have her eyes at command, 
 ready to meet yours." 
 " Go on." 
 
 " You will presently come to a rose tree. You 
 must stop there and be silent. Then you must ad- 
 mire the roses, and beg Miss Minna to present you 
 with one." 
 
 " But I do not want any roses. What can I do 
 with them ? I am lodging at an hotel." 
 
 " Never mind, you must want one. When she has 
 picked and offered it — " 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 253-. 
 
 " But perhaps she will not." 
 
 " Fiddlesticks ! Of course she will. Then take 
 the rose, press your lips to it, and burst forth into 
 raptures." 
 
 " Excuse me, how am I to do the raptures ? " 
 
 " Think of the wax moon, man. Exclaim, ' Oh 
 that I might take the fair Minna, fairer than this rose,, 
 to my heart, as I apply this flower to my button- 
 hole ! ' " 
 
 " Shall I say nothing about the wax moon ? " 
 
 " Not a word. Leave me to manage that." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " Then she will look down, confused, at the gravel, 
 and stammer. Press her for a Yes or No. Promise 
 to destroy yourself if she says No. Take her hand 
 and squeeze it." 
 
 " Must I squeeze it? About how much pressure to 
 the square-foot should I apply ? " 
 
 " Then say, ' Come, let us go to your parents, and 
 obtain their blessing.' The thing is done." 
 
 " But suppose she were to say No ? " 
 
 Rollmann stamped with impatience. " I tell you 
 she will not say No, now that the theological candi- 
 date has dropped through." 
 
 " Well," said Professor Maedler, " I must go along 
 with it, now I have made up my mind to it. But, on 
 my word, as an exact reasoner, I had no idea of the 
 difficulties men have to go through to get married. 
 Why, the calculation of the deflections of the planets 
 is nothing to it. And the Grand Turk, like Jupiter, 
 has more satellites than one ! " 
 
254 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 A few months after the incident above recorded 
 Professor Maedler returned to Dorpat, not alone ; 
 with him was the Frau Professorinn — Minna. Every- 
 thing had gone off in the garden as Rollmann had 
 planned. 
 
 The moon and Minna, or Minna and the moon, put 
 it which way you will, were secured. 
 
 When the Professor arrived at Dorpat with his 
 wife, the students gave him an ovation after the Ger- 
 man style, that is to say, they organized a Fackel-zug, 
 or torch-light procession. 
 
 Three hundred young men, some wearing white 
 caps, some green caps, some red, and some purple, 
 marched along the street headed by a band, bearing 
 .torches of twisted tow steeped in tar, blazing and 
 smoking, or, to be more exact, smoking and blazing. 
 Each corps was followed by a hired droschky, in 
 which sat the captain and stewards of the white, red, 
 green, or purple corps, with sashes of their respective 
 colours. Behind the last corps followed the elephants, 
 two and two. By elephants is not meant the greatest 
 of quadrupeds, but the smallest esteemed of the 
 students, those who belong to no corps. 
 
 The whole procession gathered before the house of 
 the Professor, and brandished their torches and 
 cheered. Then the glass door opening on the balcony 
 was thrown back, and the Professor John Henry 
 Maedler appeared on the balcony leading forth his 
 wife. The astronomer looked younger than he had 
 been known to look for the last twenty years. His 
 whiskers in the torchlight looked not grey, but red. 
 The eyes, no longer blear with star-gazing, watered 
 
A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 255 
 
 with sentiment. His expression was no longer that 
 of a man troubled with integral calculus, but of a man 
 in an ecstasy. He waved his hand. Instantly the 
 cheers subsided. " My highly-worthy-and-ever-to-be- 
 honoured sirs," began the Professor, " this is a moment 
 never to be forgotten. It sends a fackel-zug of fiery 
 emotion through every artery and vein. Highly- 
 worthy-and-ever-to-be-honoured sirs, I am not so 
 proud as to suppose that this reception is accorded to 
 me alone. It is an ovation offered to my highly- 
 beloved -and -evermore -to-be-beloved -and -respected 
 consort, Frau Minna Maedler, born Witte, the 
 daughter of a distinguished lady, who, like myself, 
 has laboured on Selenography, and loved Selenology. 
 Highly-worthy-and-ever-to-be-respected sirs, when I 
 announce to you that I have returned to Dorpat to 
 endow that most-eminent-and-ever-to-become-more- 
 eminent-University with one of the most priceless 
 treasures of art the world has ever seen, a monument 
 of infinite patience and exact observation ; I mean a 
 wax moon ; I am sure I need only allude to the fact 
 to elicit your unbounded enthusiasm. But, highly- 
 worthy-and-ever-to-be-honoured sirs, allow me to 
 assure you that my expedition to Hanover has not 
 resulted in a gain to the highly eminent University of 
 Dorpat only, but to me, individually as well. 
 
 " That highly-eminent-and-evermore-to-become- 
 more-eminent University is now enriched through my 
 agency with a moon of wax, but I — I, sirs — excuse 
 my emotion, I have also been enriched with a moon, 
 not of wax, but of honey. The wax moon, gentlemen, 
 may it last undissolved as long as the very-eminent- 
 
256 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 and-evcrmore-to-become-more-eminent University of 
 Dorpat lasts. The honey moon, gentlemen, with 
 which I have been blessed, I feel assured will expand 
 into a lifetime, at least will last also undissolved as- 
 long as Minna and I exist." 
 
ftbe iBlectrm's plot 
 
 The Elector Frederick Christian of Saxony reigned 
 only a few weeks, from October 5th to December 13, 
 1763 ; in his forty-first year he died of small-pox. He 
 never had enjoyed rude health. The mother of the 
 unfortunate prince, Marie Josepha of Austria, was an 
 exceedingly ugly, but prolific lady, vastly proud of 
 her Hapsburg descent. The three first children 
 followed each other with considerable punctuality, 
 but the two first, both sons, died early. Frederick 
 Christian was the third. (The Electress, a few months 
 before his birth, was hunting, when a deer that had been 
 struck, turned to her, dragging its broken legs behind 
 it. This produced a powerful impression on her 
 mind ; and when her son was born, he was found to 
 be a cripple in his legs. His head and arms were well 
 formed, but his spine was twisted, and his knees, 
 according to the English ambassador, Sir Charles 
 Williams — were drawn up over his stomach. He 
 could not stand, and had to be lifted about from 
 place to place. At the age of five-and-twenty he had 
 been married to Maria Antonia, daughter of the 
 Elector of Bavaria, afterwards the Emperor Charles 
 VII. 
 
 His brother, Francis Xavier, was a sturdy fellow, 
 like his father, and the Electress mother tried very 
 hard to get Frederick Christian to resign his preten- 
 
258 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 tions in favour of his brother, and take holy orders. 
 This he refused to do, and was then married to Maria 
 Antonia, aged twenty-three. Her mother had also 
 been an Austrian princess, Amalia, and also remark- 
 able for her ugliness. The choice was not happy, it 
 brought about a marriage between cousins, and an 
 union of blood that was afflicted with ugliness and 
 infirmity of body. 
 
 Maria Antonia had not only inherited her mother's 
 ugliness, but was further disfigured with small-pox. 
 She was small of stature, but of a resolute will, and of 
 unbounded ambition. English tourists liked her, 
 they said that she laid herself out to make the Court 
 of Dresden agreeable to them. Wraxall tells a good 
 story of her, which shows a certain frankness, not to 
 say coarseness in her conversation — a story we will 
 not reproduce. 
 
 She had already made her personality felt at the 
 Bavarian Court. Shortly after the death of her 
 father, in imitation of Louisa Dorothea, Duchess of 
 Gotha, she had founded an " Order of Friendship, or the 
 Society of the Incas." The founding of the Order took 
 place one fine spring day on a gondola in the canal at 
 Nymphenburg. Her brother, the Elector of Bavaria, 
 was instituted a member, the Prince of Ftirstenberg 
 was made chancellor, and was given the custody of 
 the seal of the confraternity which had as its legend 
 " La fidelity mene." The badge of the Order was a 
 gold ring on the little finger of the left hand, with the 
 inscription, " L'ordre de l'amitie — Maria Antonia." 
 Each member went by a name descriptive of his 
 character, or of that virtue he or she was supposed to 
 
THE ELECTRESS'S PLOT. 259 
 
 represent. Thus the chancellor was called " Le 
 Solide." 
 
 Sir Charles Williams says that on the very first 
 night of her appearance in Dresden she made an 
 attempt to force herself into a position for which she 
 had no right ; to the great annoyance of the King of 
 Poland (Augustus, Elector of Saxony). 
 
 At Dresden, she favoured the arts, especially music 
 and painting. She became the patroness of the 
 family Mengs. She sang, and played on the piano, 
 and indeed composed a couple of operas, " Thalestris " 
 and "II trionfo della fidelita," and the former was 
 actually put on the stage. Sir Charles Williams in 
 1747 wrote that, in spite of her profession that in her 
 eyes no woman ought to meddle in the affairs of state, 
 he ventured to prophecy, she would rule the whole 
 land in the name of her unfortunate husband. 
 
 Nor was he wrong. The moment that her father- 
 in-law died, she put her hand on the reins. She was 
 not likely to meet with resistance from her husband, 
 he was not merely a cripple in body, but was con- 
 tracted in his intellect ; he was amiable, but weak and 
 ignorant. Sir Charles Williams says that he once 
 asked at table whether it was not possible to reach 
 England by land — although it was an island. 
 
 Frederick Christian began to reign on 5th October 
 1763, and immediately orders were given for the in- 
 crease of the army to 50,000 men. Maria Antonia 
 was bent on becoming a queen, and for this end she 
 must get her husband proclaimed like his father, 
 King of Poland. She was allied to all the Courts of 
 Europe, her agreeable manners, her energy, gained 
 
26o HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 her friends in all quarters. She felt herself quite 
 capable of wearing a royal crown, and she wrote to all 
 the courts to urge the claims of her husband, the 
 Elector, when — the unfortunate cripple was attacked 
 by small-pox, had a stroke, and died December 17th. 
 Small-pox had carried off his ancestor John George 
 IV., and in that same century it occasioned the death 
 of his brother-in-law, Max Joseph of Bavaria, and of 
 the Emperor Joseph I. 
 
 He left behind him four sons, his successor, Frede- 
 rick Augustus, and the three other princes, Charles, 
 his mother's favourite, Anthony, and Maximilian 
 Joseph, the third of whom died the same year as his 
 father. He had also two daughters. 
 
 The death of her husband was a severe blow to the 
 ambition of the Electress ; her eldest son, Frederick 
 Augustus, was under age, and the reins of govern- 
 ment were snatched from her hands and put into those 
 of the uncle of the young Elector, Xavier, who had 
 been his mother's favourite, and in favour of whom 
 his elder brother had been urged to resign his pre- 
 tensions. Xavier was appointed administrator of 
 Saxony, and acted as such for five years. 
 
 When, at the age of eighteen, Frederick Augustus 
 III. assumed the power, he endeavoured to fulfil his 
 duties with great diligence and conscientiousness, and 
 allowed of no interference. He had, indeed, his ad- 
 visers, but these were men whom he selected for him- 
 self from among those who had been well tried and 
 who had proved themselves trusty. 
 
 The Electress-mother had, during the administration 
 of Prince Xavier, exercised some little authority ; she 
 
THE ELECTRESS'S PLOT. 261 
 
 now suddenly found herself deprived of every shred. 
 Her son was too firm and self-determined to admit of 
 her interference. Moody and dissatisfied, she left Dres- 
 den and went to Potsdam to Frederick II., in 1769, 
 apparently to feel the way towards the execution 
 of a plan that was already forming in her restless 
 brain. She does not seem to have met with any 
 encouragement, and she then started for Italy, where 
 she visited Rome in 1772, and sought Mengs out, 
 whose artistic talents had been fostered under her 
 care. 
 
 Under the administration of Prince Xavier, the 
 Electress Dowager had received an income of sixty 
 thousand dollars ; after her son had mounted the 
 throne, her appanage was doubled, more than doubled, 
 for she was granted 130,000 dollars, and in addition 
 her son gave her a present of 500,000 dollars. This 
 did not satisfy her, for she had no notion of cutting 
 her coat according to her cloth, she would everywhere 
 maintain a splendid court. Moreover, she was bitten 
 with the fever of speculation. The year before her 
 son came of age and assumed the power, she had 
 erected a great cotton factory at Grossenhain, but as 
 it brought her in no revenue, and cost her money 
 besides, she was glad to dispose of it in 1774. The 
 visitor to Dresden almost certainly knows the Bava- 
 rian tavern at the end of the bridge leading into 
 Little Dresden, i It is a tavern now mediaevalised, 
 with panelled waits, bull's eye glass in the windows, 
 old German glass and pottery — even an old German 
 kalendar hanging from the walls, and with a couple 
 of pretty Bavarian Kellnerins in costume, to wait on 
 
262 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 the visitor. There also in the evening Bavarian 
 minstrels jodel, and play the(zither. 
 
 This Bavarian tavern was established by the Elec- 
 tress Mother, who thought that the Saxons did not 
 drink good or enough beer, and must be supplied 
 with that brewed in her native land. 
 
 But this speculation also failed, and her capital of 
 five hundred thousand dollars was swallowed up to 
 the last farthing, and to meet her creditors she was 
 obliged to pawn her diamond necklace and the rest 
 of her jewels. This happened in Genoa. When her 
 allowance came in again she redeemed her jewelry, 
 but in 1775 had to pawn it again in Rome. Unable 
 to pay her debts, and in distress for money, she 
 appealed repeatedly, but in vain, to her son. 
 
 Frederick Augustus was, like his father, of feeble 
 constitution, and moreover, as he himself complained 
 later on in life, had been at once spoiled and neglected 
 in his youth ; and he was unable through weakness 
 to ascend a height. He did not walk or ride, but 
 went about in a carriage. The January (1769) after 
 he came to the Electoral crown, he married Amelia 
 Augusta of Zweibriicken, sister of Max Joseph, after- 
 wards first King of Bavaria. She was only seventeen 
 at the time. 
 
 The favourite son of his mother was Charles. This 
 prince had been hearty and in full possession of his 
 limbs in his early age, but when he reached the years 
 of eleven or twelve, he became crippled and doubled 
 up like his father. Wraxal says that beside him 
 ^Scarron would have passed as a beauty. He was so 
 Feeble and paralysed that he could only be moved 
 
THE ELECTRESS' S PLOT. 263 
 
 about on a wheeled chair. He died in 178 1. His 
 elder brother, the Elector, though not a vigorous man, 
 was not a cripple. 
 
 One of the attendant gentry on the Electress 
 Mother, in Rome, was the Marquis Aloysius Peter 
 d'Agdolo, son of the Saxon Consul in Venice, Colonel 
 of the Lifeguard, and Adjutant General to Prince 
 Xavier whilst he was Administrator. 
 
 Agdolo advised the Electress Mother to raise 
 money to meet her difficulties by selling to her son, 
 the Elector, her claims on the Bavarian inheritance. 
 Her brother, Maximilian Joseph, was without chil- 
 dren ; and the nearest male claimant to the Electoral 
 Crown of Bavaria was the Count Palatine of Sulz- 
 bach, only remotely connected. It was, therefore, . 
 quite possible that Bavaria might fall to a sister. 
 Now on the death of her brother, the Dowager Elec- 
 tress of Saxony certainly intended to advance her 
 claims against any remote kinsman hailing through a 
 common ancestor two centuries ago. But whether 
 she would be able to enforce her claim was another 
 matter. She might sell it to her son, who would 
 have the means of advancing his claim by force of arms 
 and gold. This was in 1776. Maria Antonia was de- 
 lighted with the scheme and at once hastened to Mu- 
 nich to put it in execution, taking with her all her dia- 
 monds which she had managed to redeem from pawn. 
 
 Whilst she was on her way to Munich, Agdolo 
 was despatched to Dresden, to open the negociation 
 with her son, not only for the transference of her 
 rights on Bavaria, but also for the pawning of her 
 diamonds, to her son. 
 
264 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 She had urgent need of money, and in her extremity- 
 she conceived an audacious scheme to enable her at 
 the same time to get hold of the money, and to retain 
 her rights on Bavaria. The plan was this: — As soon as 
 she had got the full payment from the Elector for the 
 resignation of her claims in his favour, she had re- 
 solved suddenly to proclaim to the world that he was 
 no son at all of the late Elector Frederick Christian — 
 that he was a bastard, smuggled into the palace and 
 passed off as the son of the Elector, much as, accord- 
 ing to Whig gossip, James the Pretender was smuggled 
 into the palace of James II. in a warming pan, and 
 passed off as of blood royal, when he was of base 
 origin. 
 
 Frederick Augustus thus declared to be no son of 
 the House of Saxony, the Electoral crown would 
 come to her favourite son Charles, who was a cripple. 
 The Elector was not deformed — evidence against his 
 origin ; Charles was doubled up and distorted — he 
 was certainly the true son of the late Elector, and the 
 legitimate successor. 
 
 If Maria Antonia should succeed — she would rule 
 Saxony in the name, and over the head of her un- 
 fortunate son Charles, and her rights on Bavaria 
 would not have been lost or made away with. 
 
 Arrived in Munich, she confided the whole plan to 
 her ladies-in-waiting. She told them her hopes, her 
 confidence in Agdolo, who was gone to Dresden to 
 negociate the sale, and who was thoroughly aware of 
 her intentions. 
 
 Agdolo, as all the ladies knew, was a great rascal. 
 He had been pensioned by Prince Xavier with six 
 
THE ELECTRESS' S PLOT. 265. 
 
 hundred dollars per annum, and he had what he re- 
 ceived from the Electress Mother as her gentleman- 
 in-waiting. He was married to the Princess Lubo- 
 mirska, widow of Count Rutowska, had quarrelled 
 with her, and they lived separate, but he had no 
 scruple to receive of an insulted wife an annual allow- 
 ance. All these sources of income were insufficient 
 to meet his expenses ; and no one who knew him 
 doubted for a moment that he would lend himself to 
 any intrigue which would promise him wealth and 
 position. The plot of the Dowager Electress was a 
 risky one — but, should it succeed, his fortune was 
 assured. 
 
 At Dresden he was well received by the Elector ; 
 and Frederick Augustus at once accepted the pro- 
 position of his mother. He consented to purchase 
 Maria Antonia's resignation in his favour of her 
 claims on the allodial inheritance of the family on 
 the extinction of the Bavarian Electoral house in the 
 male line, and to pay all her debts, and to find a sum 
 sufficient to redeem the diamonds, which were repre- 
 sented as still in pawn at Rome. 
 
 Maria Antonia and her confidant appeared to be on 
 the eve of success, when the plan was upset, from a quar- 
 ter in which they had not dreamed of danger. Among 
 the ladies of the court of the Dowager Electress was 
 one whose name does not transpire, who seems to 
 have entertained an ardent passion for Agdolo. He, 
 however, disregarded her, and paid his attentions to 
 another of the ladies. Rage and jealousy consumed 
 the heart of this slighted beauty, and when the 
 Electress Mother confided to her the plan she had 
 
266 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 formed, the lady-in-waiting saw that her opportunity 
 had arrived for the destruction of the man who had 
 slighted her charms. She managed to get hold of 
 her mistress' keys and to make a transcript of her 
 papers, wherein the whole plan was detailed, also of 
 copies of her letters to Agdolo, and of the Marquis's 
 letters to her. When she had these, she at once des- 
 patched them — not to the Elector of Saxony, but to 
 Frederick II. at Berlin, who stood in close relations 
 of friendship with the Elector of Saxony. She had 
 reckoned aright. Such tidings, received through the 
 Court of Prussia, would produce a far deeper impres- 
 sion on Frederick Augustus, than if received from her 
 • unknown and insignificant self. It is possible also 
 that she may have known of her mistress having 
 been at Berlin and there thrown out hints of some- 
 thing of the sort, so that Frederick II. would at once 
 recognise in this matured plan the outcome of the 
 vague hints of mischief poured out at Potsdam a few 
 years before. 
 
 All was going on well at Berlin. Adolphus von 
 Zehmen, Electoral Treasurer, had already started for 
 Munich, furnished with the requisite sums. He was 
 empowered to receive the deed of relinquishment 
 from the Dowager Electress, and also her diamond 
 necklace, which, in the meantime, was to be brought 
 by a special courier from Rome. Maria Antonia, on 
 her side, had constituted Councillor Hewald her 
 plenipotentiary ; she wrote to say that he would 
 transact all the requisite negociation with the Treasurer 
 Zehmen, and that the diamond necklace had arrived 
 and was in his hands. 
 
THE ELECTRESS'S PLOT. 267 
 
 Agdolo received orders from the Electress Mother 
 on no account to leave Dresden till the middle of 
 September, 1776, lest his departure should arouse 
 suspicion. 
 
 The conduct of the Marquis was not in any way 
 remarkable, he moved about among old friends with 
 perfect openness, often appeared in Court, and was 
 satisfied that he was perfectly safe. He was not in 
 the least aware that all his proceedings were watched 
 and reported on, not by order of the Elector, but of 
 his own mistress, who received regular reports from 
 this emissary as to the behaviour and proceedings of 
 the Marquis, so that she was able to compare with 
 this private report that sent her by Agdolo, and 
 so satisfy herself whether he was acting in her 
 interest, or playing a double game. 
 
 This bit of cunning on her part, was not surprising, 
 considering what a man Agdolo was, and, as we shall 
 see, it proved of great advantage to her, but in a way 
 she least expected. 
 
 The Marchese d'Agdolo had paid his farewell visit 
 to the Elector, and received leave to depart. Frede- 
 rick Augustus had not the remotest suspicion that his 
 mother was playing a crooked part, and he seemed 
 heartily satisfied with the negociation, and made the 
 Marquis a present. 
 
 On September 15, 1776, Agdolo was intending to 
 start from Dresden, on his return to Munich, and the 
 ■evening before leaving he spent at the house of a friend, 
 Ferber, playing cards. Little did he suspect that whilst 
 he was winning one stake after another at the table, 
 the greatest stake of all was lost. That evening, 
 
268 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 whilst he was playing cards, a courier arrived from 
 Berlin, in all haste, and demanded to see the Elector 
 in person, instantly, as he had a communication of 
 the utmost importance to make from Frederick II. 
 He was admitted without delay, and the whole of his 
 mother's plot was detailed before the astonished 
 Elector. 
 
 "The originals of these transcripts," said the courier,. 
 " are in the hands of the Marchese d'Agdoio, let him 
 be arrested, and a comparison of the documents 
 made." 
 
 The Privy Council was at once assembled, and the 
 papers received from Frederick II. were laid before it. 
 The members voted unanimously that the Marquis 
 should be arrested, and General Schiebell was en- 
 trusted with the execution of the decree. No surprise 
 was occasioned by the entry of General Schiebell 
 into the house of Ferber. It was a place of resort of 
 the best society in Dresden ; but when the General 
 announced that he had come to make an arrest, many 
 cheeks lost their colour. 
 
 £Jn the name of his Serene Highness the Elector," 
 said the General, " I make this man my prisoner," 
 and he laid his hand on the shoulder of Agdolo, who- 
 had served under him in the Seven Years' War. He 
 was taken at once to his own lodgings, where his 
 desks and boxes — already packed for departure — 
 were opened, and all his papers removed. The same 
 night, under a strong guard, he was transported at io 
 o'clock, to Konigstein. In that strong fortress and state 
 prison, perched on an isolated limestone crag, the- 
 rest of his life was to be spent in confinement. 
 
THE ELECTRESS'S PLOT. 269 
 
 But the Marchese, like a crafty Italian, had made 
 his preparations against something of the sort ; for 
 among his papers was found a communication ad- 
 dressed by him to the Elector, revealing the whole 
 plot. It was undated. If the search of his rooms 
 and the discovery of his papers had been made earlier, 
 the Elector might have believed that the man had 
 really intended to betray his mistress, but, he had 
 postponed the delivery of the communication too late. 1 
 
 A few days later, the Marchese received a sealed 
 letter from the Elector ; and he was treated in his 
 prison without undue severity ; his pension was not 
 withdrawn ; and the Elector seems never to have 
 quite made up his mind whether Agdolo really in- 
 tended to make him aware of the plot at the last 
 minute, or to go on with the plan after his mistress's 
 orders. 
 
 j After some years, when Agdolo began to suffer in 
 his chest, he was allowed to go to the baths of Pirna, 
 under a guard. His wife never visited him in prison. 
 She died, however, only two years later, in 1778, at 
 the age of fifty-six. Agdolo lived on for twenty- 
 three years and a half, and died August 27, 1800. 
 All his papers were then sent to Frederick Augustus 
 III., who read them, dissolved into tears, and burnt 
 them. 
 
 We must return for a moment to Munich. No 
 sooner had the emissary of the Electress Mother 
 heard of the news of the arrest of Agdolo, than he 
 hastened to Munich with post horses as hard as he 
 
 1 This is supposed to have been the contents of the packet 
 addressed to the Elector, the contents have never been revealed. 
 
270 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 could fly over the roads. Maria Antonia, when she 
 heard the news, at once made fresh dispositions. She 
 sent word that same night to Hewald to make off, 
 and in another half hour he had disappeared with the 
 diamonds. 
 
 Next day the completion of the resignation of 
 claims was to be made. The Electress Mother re- 
 quested the Treasurer Zehmen to go to the dwelling 
 of her Councillor Hewald, who, as we can understand, 
 was not to be found anywhere. Herr von Zehmen 
 was much surprised and disconcerted, and the Dowager 
 Electress affected extreme indignation and distress, 
 charging her plenipotentiary with having robbed her 
 of her diamonds, and bolted with them. Then she 
 took to her bed, and pretended to be dangerously ill. 
 Next day the news reached Zehmen of what had 
 occurred at Dresden, and with the news came his 
 recall. She saw the treasurer before his departure, 
 and implored him to get both Agdolo and Hewald 
 arrested and punished, because, as she declared, they 
 had between them fabricated a wicked plot for her 
 robbery and ruin. 
 
 Hewald went to Frankfort with the jewels, where 
 he was stopped and taken by an officer of Frederick 
 Augustus, and brought on Jan. 27, 1777, to Dresden. 
 He was sent to the Konigstein, but was released in 
 1778. 
 
 In 1777 died the Elector of Bavaria, but his sister 
 was unable to obtain any recognition of her claims \ 
 and she died 23rd April, 1780, without any reconcili- 
 ation with the eldest son. Next year died her fav- 
 ourite son, the cripple, Charles. 
 
Suess ©ppenbeim. 
 
 On December the sixteenth, 1733, Charles Alexander, 
 Duke of Wiirtemberg, entered Stuttgart in state. Itwas 
 a brilliant though brief winter day. The sun streamed 
 out of a cloudless heaven on the snowy roofs of the old 
 town, and the castle park trees frosted as though 
 covered with jewels. The streets were hung with 
 tapestries, crimson drapery, and wreaths of artificial 
 flowers. Peasants in their quaint costume poured in 
 from all the country round to salute their new prince. 
 From the old castle towers floated the banners of the 
 Duchy and the Empire — for Wiirtemberg three stag- 
 horns quartered with the Hohenstauffen black lions. 
 The Duke was not young : he was hard on fifty — an 
 age when a man has got the better of youthful im- 
 petuosity and regrets early indiscretions — an age at 
 which, if a man has stuff in him, he is at his best. 
 
 (The land of Wiirtemberg is a favoured and smiling 
 land. At the period of which we write, it was not so 
 ample as the present kingdom, but fruitful, favoured, 
 and called the Garden of the Empire. For twenty 
 years this Duchy had been badly governed ; the in- 
 habitants had been cruelly oppressed by the incom- 
 petent Duke Eberhardt Ludwig, or rather by his 
 favourites. The country was burdened with debt ; the 
 treasury was exhausted. It had, as it were, lain under 
 winter frost for twenty years and more, and now though 
 
2j2 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 on a winter day laughed and bloomed with a promise of 
 spring. 
 
 And every good Wiirtemberger had a right to be 
 glad and proud of the new duke, who had stormed Bel- 
 grade under Prince Eugene, and was held to be one of 
 the bravest, noblest minded, and most generous of 
 the German princes of his time. 
 
 (As he rode through the streets of Stuttgart all ad- 
 mired his stately form, his rich fair hair flowing over his 
 shoulders, his bright commanding eye, and the pleasant 
 smile on his lip ; every Wiirtemberger waved his hat, 
 and shouted, and leaped with enthusiasm. Now at 
 last the Garden of Germany would blossom and be 
 fruitful under so noble a duke. 
 
 (But in the same procession walked, not rode, 
 another man whom none regarded — a handsome man 
 with dark brown hair and keen olive eyes, a sallow 
 complexion, and a finely moulded Greek nose. He 
 had a broad forehead and well arched brows. He was 
 tall, and had something noble and commanding in his 
 person and manner. But his most remarkable feature 
 was the eye — bright, eager, ever restless. 
 
 This man, whom the Wiirtembergers did not observe, 
 was destined to play a terrible and tragic part in their 
 history — to be the evil genius of the duke and of the 
 land. His name was Joseph Suess Oppenheim. 
 
 Joseph's mother, Michaela, a Jewess, had been a 
 woman of extraordinary beauty, the only child of the 
 Rabbi Salomon of Frankfort. She had been married 
 when quite young to the Rabbi Isachar Suess Oppen- 
 heim, a singer. Joseph was born at Heidelberg in 
 1692, and was her child by the Baron George of 
 
SUESS OPPENHEIM. 273 
 
 Heydersdorf, a soldier who had distinguished himself 
 in the Turkish war, and with whom she carried on a 
 guilty intrigue. From his father Joseph Suess derived 
 a dignified, almost military bearing, and his personal 
 beauty from his mother. 
 
 The Baron's romance with the lovely Jewess came 
 to an end in 1693, when he held the castle of Heidel- 
 berg against the French. He surrendered after a 
 gallant defence; too soon, however, as the court-martial 
 held on him decided ; and he was sentenced to death, 
 but was pardoned by the Emperor Leopold, with the 
 loss of all his honours and offices, and he was banished 
 the Empire. 
 
 vSuess had a sister who married a rich Jew of 
 Vienna, but followed her mother in laxity of morals, 
 and, after having wasted a good fortune in extrava- 
 gance, fell back on her mother and brother for a 
 maintenance. He had a brother who became a factor 
 at the court of Darmstadt. They lived on bad terms 
 with each other, and were engaged in repeated law- 
 suits with one another. This brother abjured Judaism, 
 was baptised, and assumed the name of Tauffenberg. 
 Joseph Suess was connected, or nominally connected, 
 through Isachar, his reputed though not his real father, 
 with the great and wealthy Jewish family of Oppen- 
 heim. The branch established in Vienna had become 
 rich on contracts for the army, and had been ennobled. 
 One member failed because the Emperor Leopold I. 
 owed him many millions of dollars and was unable to 
 pay. Joseph began life in the office of the court 
 bankers and army contractors of his family at Vienna. 
 
 Here it was that he obtained his first ideas of how 
 
 s 
 
274 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 money could beraised through lotteries, monopolies,and 
 imposts of all kinds. But though Joseph was put on 
 the road that led to wealth, in the Oppenheim house 
 at Vienna, he missed his chance there, and was dis- 
 missed for some misconduct or other, the particulars 
 of which we do not know. 
 
 Then, in disgrace and distress, he came to Bavaria, 
 where he served a while as barber's assistant. Pro- 
 bably through the influence of some of the Oppen- 
 heims, Joseph was introduced into the court of the 
 family of Thurn and Taxis, which had acquired vast 
 wealth through the monopolyof the post-office. Thence 
 he made his way into an office of the palatine court at 
 Mannheim. 
 
 This was a period in which the German princes 
 were possessed with the passion of imitating the splen- 
 dour and extravagance of Louis XIV. Everyone 
 must have his Versailles, must crowd his court with 
 functionaries, and maintain armies in glittering and 
 showy uniforms. 
 
 \ Germany, to the present day, abounds in vast and 
 magnificent palaces, for the most part in wretched 
 repair, if not ruinous. The houses of our English 
 nobility are nothing as compared in size with these 
 palaces of petty princes, counts, and barons. 
 \To build these mansions, and when built to fill them 
 with officials and servants, to keep up their armies, 
 and to satisfy the greed of their mistresses, these 
 German princes needed a good deal of money, and 
 were ready to show favour to any man who could 
 help them to obtain it — show where to bore to tap 
 fresh financial springs. All kinds of new methods of 
 
SUESS OPPENHEIM. 275 
 
 taxation were had recourse to, arousing the bitter 
 mockery of the oppressed. The tobacco monopoly- 
 was called the nose-tax ; it was felt to be oppressive 
 only by the snuff-takers and smokers ; and perhaps 
 the stamp on paper only by those who wrote ; but 
 the boot and shoe stamp imposed by one of the little 
 princes touched everyone but those who went bare- 
 foot. 
 
 \ Joseph Suess introduced the stamp on paper into 
 the palatinate. He did not invent this duty, which had 
 been imposed elsewhere ; but he obtained the con- 
 cession of the impost, and sold it to a subfactor for 
 12,000 florins, and with the money invested in a 
 speculation in the coinage of Hesse-Darmstadt. All 
 the little German princes at this time had their own 
 coinage, down to trumpery little states of a few miles 
 in diameter, as Waldeck, Fulda, Hechingen, and 
 Montfort ; and Germany was full to overflow of bad 
 money, and barren of gold and silver. Suess, in his 
 peregrinations ; had obtained a thorough insight into 
 the mysteries of this branch of business. He not only 
 thoroughly understood the practical part of the matter 
 — the coinage — but also where the cheapest markets 
 were, in which to purchase the metals to be coined. 
 Now that he had some money at his command, he 
 undertook to farm the coinage of Hesse-Darmstadt ; 
 but almost immediately undersold it, with a profit to 
 himself of 9000 florins. He took other contracts for 
 the courts, and soon realised a comfortable fortune. 
 Even the Archbishop of Cologne called in his aid, 
 and contributed to enrich him, in his efforts to get a 
 little more for himself out of the subjects of his pala- 
 
276 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 tinatc. In the summer of 1732 Joseph Suess visited 
 the Blackforest baths of Wildbad, for the sake of the 
 waters. At the same time Charles Alexander of 
 Wurtemberg and his wife were also undergoing the 
 same cure. Oppenheim's pleasant manners, his hand- 
 some face, and his cleverness caught the fancy of 
 Charles Alexander, and he appointed him his agent 
 and steward ; and as the Prince was then in want of 
 money, Suess lent him a trifle of 2,000 florins. 
 Charles Alexander had not at this time any assurance 
 that he would ascend the ducal throne of Wtirtemberg, 
 though it was probable. 1 The reigning Duke, 
 Eberhardt Louis, had, indeed, just lost his only son ; 
 but it was not impossible that a posthumous grand- 
 son might be born. Charles Alexander was first- 
 cousin of the Duke. It is said that Suess on this 
 occasion foretold the future greatness of the Prince, 
 and pretended to extract his prophecy from the Cabala 
 It is certain that Charles Alexander was very super- 
 stitious, and believed in astrology, and it is by no means 
 improbable that Suess practised on his credulity. He 
 had at his disposal plenty of means of learning whether 
 the young Princess of Wurtemberg was likely soon to 
 become a mother — her husband had died in November 
 — and he was very well aware that the old Duke was 
 failing. The loan made by Suess came acceptably 
 to Prince Charles Alexander just as a Jewish banker, 
 Isaac Simon of Landau, with whom he had hitherto 
 dealt, had declined to make further advances. 
 
 When the Prince returned to Belgrade, where he 
 resided as stadtholder of Servia, under the Emperor, 
 
 1 There was some idea of a younger brother being elected. 
 
SC7ESS OPPENHEIM. 277 
 
 he was fully convinced that he had discovered in 
 Suess an able, intelligent, and devoted servant. His 
 wife was a princess of Thurn and Taxis, and it is 
 possible that Suess, who had been for some time about 
 that court at Ratisbon, had used her influence, and 
 his acquaintance with her family affairs, to push his 
 interests with the Prince, her husband. 
 vOn October 31, 1733, died the old Duke Eberhardt 
 Louis, and Charles Alexander at once hastened from 
 Belgrade to Vienna, where, in an interview with the 
 Emperor, without any consultation with the Estates, 
 or consideration for the treasury of Wurtemberg, he 
 promised Leopold a contingent of 12,000 men to aid 
 in the war against France. Then he went on to 
 Stuttgart. 
 
 \ Poor Wurtemberg groaned under the burdens that 
 had been imposed on it ; the favourites had been 
 allowed to do with it what they liked ; and Charles 
 Alexander's first public declaration on entering his 
 capital was : " From henceforth I will reign over you 
 immediately, and myself see to the reform of every 
 grievance, and put away from my people every burden 
 which has galled its shoulders. If my people cry to 
 me, my ears shall be open to hear their call. I will 
 not endure the disorder which has penetrated every- 
 where, into every department of the State ; my own 
 hand shall sweep it away." 
 
 And as a token of his sincerity he ordered every 
 office-holder in Church and State to put on paper and 
 present to hirn a schedule of every payment that had 
 been made, by way of fee and bribe, to obtain his 
 office. This was published on December 28, 1733. 
 
278 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 The older and wiser heads were shaken ; the Duke, 
 they said, was only heaping trouble on his shoulders ; 
 let the past be buried. He replied, " I must get to 
 the bottom of all this iniquity. I must get inured to 
 
 . 
 
 \ But the hero of Belgrade had all his life been more 
 accustomed to the saddle than the desk, and to com- 
 mand in battle — a much simpler matter — than to 
 rule in peace. The amount of grievances brought 
 before him, the innumerable scandals, peculations, 
 bewildered him. The people were wild with enthus- 
 iasm, but the entire bureaucracy was filled with sullen 
 and dogged opposition. 
 N Wurtemberg enjoyed a constitution more liberal 
 than any other German principality. The old Duke 
 Eberhardt with the Beard, who died in 1496, by his 
 will contrived for the good government of his land by 
 providing checks against despotic rule by the dukes 
 his successors. On the strength of this testament 
 the Estates deposed his successor. The provisions 
 of this will were ratified in the Capitulation of 
 Tubingen, in 15 14, and every duke on assuming the 
 reins of government was required to swear to observe 
 the capitulation. Duke Charles Alexander took the 
 oath without perhaps very closely examining it, and 
 found out after it was taken that he was hampered in 
 various ways, and was incapacitated from raising the 
 body of men with which he had undertaken to furnish 
 the Emperor, independent of the consent of the 
 Parliament. It may here be said that there was no 
 hereditary house of nobles in Wurtemberg ; the 
 policy of the former dukes had been to drive the 
 
SUESS OPPENHEIM. 279 
 
 hereditary petty nobles out of the country, and to 
 create in their place a clique of court officials abso- 
 lutely dependent on themselves. By the constitution, 
 no standing army was to be maintained, and no 
 troops raised without the consent of the Estates ; the 
 tenure of property was guaranteed by the State, all serf- 
 age was abolished, and no taxes could be imposed or 
 monopolies created without the consent of the Estates. 
 \ The Estates consisted of fourteen prelates, pastors 
 invested with dignities which entitled them to sit in 
 the House, and seventy deputies — some elected by 
 the constituencies, others holders of certain offices, 
 who sat ex officio. The Estates had great power ; in- 
 deed the Duke could do little but ask its consent to 
 the measures he proposed, and to swallow humble 
 pie at refusal. It not only imposed the taxes, but the 
 collectors were directly responsible to the Estates for 
 what was collected, and paid into its hands the sum 
 gathered. Moreover, any agreement entered into 
 between the Duke and another prince was invalid 
 unless ratified by the Estates. 
 
 \ When Duke Charles Alexander, who had been ac- 
 customed to the despotic command of an army as 
 field-marshal, found how his hands were tied and how 
 he was surrounded by impediments to free action on 
 all sides, he was very angry, and quarrelled with the 
 Ministers who had presented the capitulation to him 
 for signature. He declared that the paper presented 
 for him to sign had not been read to him in full, or 
 had the obnoxious passages folded under that he 
 should not see them, or that they had been added 
 after his signature had been affixed. 
 
280 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 He became irritable, not knowing how to keep his 
 promise with the Emperor, and disgusted to find 
 himself a ruler without real authority. 
 
 Now, as it was inconvenient to call the Assembly 
 together on every occasion when something was 
 wanted, a permanent committee sat in Stuttgart, con- 
 sisting of two parts. This committee acted for the 
 Estates and were responsible to it. 
 •j Wanting advice and help, unwilling to seek that of 
 the reliable Ministers — and there were some honest 
 and patriotic — the Duke asked Joseph Suess to assist 
 him, and Suess was only too delighted to show him a 
 way out of his difficulties. The redress of grievances 
 was thrust aside, abuses were left uncorrected, and 
 the Duke's attention was turned towards two main 
 objects — the establishment of a standing army, and 
 the upsetting of the old constitution. 
 
 Wtirtemberg was then a state whose limits were 
 not very extensive, nor did they lie within a ring 
 fence. The imperial cities of Reutlingen, Ulm, 
 Heilsbronn, Weil, and Gmtind were free. It might 
 not be convenient for the Emperor to pay with hard 
 cash for the troops the Duke had promised to furnish, 
 but he might allow of the incorporation of these 
 independent and wealthy cities in the duchy. More- 
 over, it was a feature of the times for the princes to 
 seek to conquer fresh districts and incorporate them. 
 France had recently snatched away Mompelgard 
 from Wiirtemberg, and Charles Alexander recovered 
 it. The duchy had suffered so severely from having 
 been overrun by French troops that the Estates ac- 
 quiesced, though reluctantly, in the Duke's proposal 
 
SC/£SS OPPENHEIM. 281 
 
 that a standing army should be maintained. Having 
 obtained this concession, Suess instructed him how 
 to make it a means of acquiring money, by calling 
 men to arms who would be thankful to purchase their 
 discharge. The army soon numbered 18,000 soldiers. 
 His general-in-chief was Remchingen, a man who 
 had served with him in the Imperial army and was 
 devoted to his interests. The Duke placed his army 
 under officers who were none of them Wiirtembergers. 
 At the head of an army officered by his own creatures, 
 the Duke hoped to carry his next purpose — the 
 abrogation of the capitulation, and the conversion of 
 the State from a constitutional to a despotic monarchy. 
 Suess now became the Duke's most confidential ad- 
 viser, and, guided by him, Charles Alexander got rid 
 of all his Ministers and courtiers who would not be- 
 come the assistants in this policy, and filled their 
 places with creatures of his own, chief of whom was 
 a fellow named Hallwachs. In order to paralyse the 
 Assembly the Duke did not summon it to meet, and 
 managed to pack the committee with men in his in- 
 terest ; for, curiously enough, the committee was not 
 elected by the delegates, but itself elected into the 
 vacancies created in it. By means of the committee 
 the Duke imposed on the country in 1736 a double 
 tax, and the grant of a thirtieth of all the fruits ; and 
 this was to last " as long as the necessities of the 
 case required it." 
 
 X Suess himself was careful to keep in the back- 
 ground. He accepted no office about court, became 
 Minister of no branch of the State ; but every 
 Minister and officer was nominated by him and de- 
 
282 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 voted to him. Towards these creatures of his own 
 he behaved with rudeness and arrogance, so that they 
 feared him almost more than the Duke. If the least 
 opposition was manifested, Suess threatened the 
 gallows or the block, forfeiture of goods, and banish- 
 ment ; and as the Duke subscribed every order Suess 
 brought him, it was well known that his threats were 
 net idle. 
 
 (Suess employed Weissensee, a pastor, the prelate of 
 Hirsau, as his court spy. This worthless man brought 
 to the favourite every whisper that passed within his 
 hearing among the courtiers of the Duke, everything 
 that was said in the committee, and advised whether 
 the adhesion of this or that man was doubtful. 
 
 * Suess so completely enveloped the Duke in the 
 threads of the web he spun about him, that Charles 
 Alexander followed his advice blindly, and did noth- 
 ing without consulting him. 
 
 In 1734 Suess farmed the coinage of Wiirtemberg, 
 with great profit to himself, and, having got it into 
 his own hands, kept it there to the end. But there is 
 this to be said for his coinage, that it was far better 
 than that of all the other states of Germany ; so that 
 the Wiirtemberg silver was sought throughout 
 Germany. There was nothing fraudulent in this 
 transaction, and though at his trial the matter was 
 closely investigated, no evidence of his having ex- 
 ceeded what was just could be produced against him. 
 \ It was quite another matter with the " Land Com- 
 mission," a well-intentioned institution with which 
 the Duke began his reign. Charles Alexander 
 was overwhelmed with the evidence sent in to him of 
 
SUESS OPPENHEIM. 283 
 
 bribery under the late Duke, and, unable to investigate 
 the cases himself, he appointed commissioners to do so, 
 and of course these commissioners were nominated by 
 Suess. The commission not only examined into 
 evidence of bribery in the purchase of offices, but also 
 into peculation and neglect of duty in the discharge of 
 offices. Those against whom evidence was strong 
 were sentenced to pay a heavy fine, but were not neces- 
 sarily deprived. Those, on the other hand, who had 
 acquired their offices honourably and had discharged 
 their functions conscientiously were harassed by 
 repeated trials, terrified with threats, and were forced 
 to purchase their discharge at a sum fixed according to 
 an arbitrary tariff. Those who proved stubborn, or 
 did not see at what the commissioners aimed, were 
 subjected to false witnesses, found guilty, and fined. 
 These fines amounted in some instances to £2,000. 
 £ After the commission had exhausted the bureau- 
 cracy, and money was still needed, private individuals 
 became the prey of their inquisitorial and extortive 
 action. 
 
 |- Any citizen who was reported to be rich was 
 summoned before the tribunal to give an account of 
 the manner in which he had obtained his wealth ; his 
 private affairs were investigated, his books examined, 
 and his trial protracted till he was glad to purchase 
 his dismissal for a sum calculated according to his in- 
 come as revealed to the prying eyes of the inquisitors. 
 \ But as this did not suffice to fill the empty treasury, 
 recurrence was had to the old abuse which the Land 
 Commission had been instituted to inquire into and 
 correct. Every office was sold, and to increase the 
 
284 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 revenue from this source fresh offices were created, 
 fresh titles invented, and all were sold for ready 
 money. Every office in Church as well as State was 
 bought ; indeed, a sort of auction was held at every 
 vacancy, and the office was knocked down to the 
 highest bidder. 
 
 .This sort of commerce had been bad enough under 
 the late Duke ; but it became fourfold as bad now 
 under the redresser of abuses, for what had before 
 been inchoate was now organised by Suess into a 
 system. 
 
 I Not only were the offices sold, but after they had 
 been entered upon, the tenant was expected to pay a 
 second sum, entitled the gratuity, which was to go, it 
 was announced, towards a sustentation fund for 
 widows and orphans and the aged. It is needless to 
 say that none of this money ever reached widows, 
 orphans, or aged. 
 
 \ A special bureau of gratuities was organised by 
 decree of the Duke, and filled with men appointed by 
 Suess, who paid into his hands the sums received ; 
 and he, after having sifted them, and retained what 
 he thought fit, shook the rest into the ducal treasury. 
 This bureau was founded by ducal rescript in 1736. 
 
 \ Side by side with the Office of Gratuities came the 
 Fiscal Office into being, whose function it was to re- 
 vise the magisterial and judicial proceedings of the 
 courts of justice. This also was filled by Suess with 
 his creatures. The ground given to the world for its 
 establishment was the correction of judicial errors 
 and injustices committed by the courts of law. It 
 was the final court of revision, before which every 
 
SUESS OPPENHEIM. 285 
 
 decision went before it was carried into effect. Legal 
 proceedings, moreover, were long and costly, and the 
 Fiscal Court undertook to interfere when any suit 
 threatened to be unduly protracted to the prejudice 
 of justice. But the practical working of the Fiscal 
 Court was something very different. It interfered 
 with the course of justice, reversing judgments, not 
 according to equity, but according to the bribes paid 
 into the hands of the board. In a very short time 
 the sources of justice were completely poisoned by it, 
 and no crime, however great and however clearly 
 established, led to chastisement if sufficient money 
 were paid into the hands of the court of revision. 
 The whole country was overrun with spies, who de- 
 nounced as guilty of imaginary crimes those who were 
 rich, and such never escaped without leaving some of 
 their gold sticking to the hands of the fiscal counsellors. 
 As usual with Joseph Suess, he endeavoured to 
 keep officially clear of this court, as he had of the 
 Office of Gratuities, and of all others. But the Duke 
 nominated him assistant counsellor. Suess protested, 
 and endeavoured to shirk the honour ; but as the 
 Duke refused to release him, he took care never once 
 to attend the court, and when the proceedings and 
 judgments were sent him for his signature he always 
 sent them back unsigned ; and he never was easy till 
 relieved of the unacceptable title. For Suess was a 
 clever rogue. In every transaction that was public, 
 and of which documentary evidence was producible 
 that he had been mixed up with it, he acted with in- 
 tegrity ; but whenever he engaged on a proceeding 
 which might render him liable to be tried in the event 
 
286 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 of his falling into disfavour, he kept himself in the 
 background and acted through his agents ; so that 
 when, eventually, he was tried for his treasonable and 
 fraudulent conduct, documentary evidence incriminat- 
 ing him was wholly wanting. 
 
 \ After the death of the Duke, it was estimated from 
 the records of the two courts that they had in the 
 year 1736-7 squeezed sixty-five thousand pounds out 
 of the small and poor duchy. 
 
 Suess had constituted himself jeweller to the Duke, 
 v who had a fancy for precious stones, but knew 
 nothing of their relative values. When Suess offered 
 him a jewel he was unable to resist the temptation of 
 buying it, and very little of the money of the Bureau 
 of Gratuities ever reached him; he took the value out 
 in stones at Suess' estimation. When some of his in- 
 timates ventured to suggest that the Jew was deceiv- 
 ing him as to the worth of the stones, Duke Charles 
 Alexander shrugged his shoulders and said with a 
 laugh, " It may be so, but I can't do without that 
 coujon " (cocilou)} 
 
 \ At the beginning of 1736 a new edict for wards 
 was issued by the Duke, probably on Suess' sugges- 
 tion, whereby he constituted a chancery which 
 should act as guardian to all orphans under age, 
 managing their property for them, and was account- 
 able to none but the Duke for the way in which it 
 dealt with the trust. Then a commission was insti- 
 tuted to take charge of all charitable bequests in the 
 duchy ; and by this means Suess got the fingering of 
 
 1 In three years Suess gained a profit of 20,000 florins out of 
 the sale of jewellery alone. 
 
SUESS OPPENHEIM. 2S7 
 
 property to the amount of two hundred thousand 
 pounds, for which the State paid to the Charities at 
 the rate of three per cent. 
 
 \ Then came the imposition of duties and taxes. 
 Salt was taxed, playing-cards, groceries, leather, to- 
 bacco, carriages, even the sweeping of chimneys. A 
 gazette was issued containing decrees of the Duke 
 and official appointments, and every officer and 
 holder of any place, however insignificant, under 
 Government was compelled to subscribe to this weekly 
 paper, the profits of which came to the Duke and his 
 adviser. Then came a property and income tax ; 
 then in quick succession one tormenting edict after 
 another, irritating and disturbing the people, and all 
 meaning one thing — money. 
 
 v Lotteries were established by order of the Duke. 
 Suess paid the Duke ^"300 for one, and pocketed the 
 profits, which were considerable. At the court balls 
 and masquerades Suess had his roulette tables in an 
 adjoining room, and what fell to the croupier went into 
 his pocket. 1 
 
 I At last his sun declined. The Duke became more 
 and more engrossed in his ideas of upsetting the con- 
 stitution by means of his army, and listened more to 
 his general, Remchingen, than to Suess. He entered 
 into a compact with the elector of Bavaria and with 
 the Bishops of Wtirzburg and Bamberg to send him 
 troops to assist him in his great project, and, as a price 
 for this assistance, promised to introduce the Roman 
 Catholic religion into Wurtemberg. 
 
 » 1 The Duke, at Suess's instigation, wrote to the Emperor to 
 get the Jew factotum ennobled, but was refused. 
 
288 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 The enemies of Suess, finding that he was losing 
 hold of the Duke, took advantage of a precious stone 
 which the Jew had sold him for a thousand pounds, 
 and which proved to be worth only four hundred, to 
 open the eyes of Charles Alexander to the character 
 of the man who had exercised such unbounded influ- 
 ence over him. Suess, finding his power slipping 
 from him, resolved to quit the country. The Duke 
 stopped him. Suess offered five thousand pounds for 
 permission to depart ; it was refused. Charles Alex- 
 ander was aware that Suess knew too many court 
 secrets to be allowed to quit the country. Moreover, 
 the necessities of the Duke made him feel that he 
 might still need the ingenuity of Suess to help him to 
 raise money. As a means of retaining him he granted 
 him a so-called " absolutorium " — a rescript which 
 made him responsible to no one for any of his actions 
 in the past or in the future. Fuirnished with this 
 document, the Jew consented to remain, and then the 
 Duke required of him a loan of four thousand pounds 
 for the expenses of a journey he meditated to Danzig 
 to consult a physician about a foot from which he 
 suffered. The "absolutorium " was signed in February 
 
 1737- 
 ^On March 12 following, Charles Alexander started 
 
 on his journey from Stuttgart, but went no farther 
 
 than his palace at Ludwigsburg. 
 
 Although the utmost secrecy had been maintained, 
 
 it had nevertheless transpired that the constitution 
 
 was to be upset as soon as the Duke had left the 
 
 country. He had given sealed orders to his general, 
 
 Remchingen, to this effect. The Bavarian and Wiir- 
 
SUESS OPPENHEIM. 289 
 
 temberg troops, to the number of 19,000 men, were al- 
 ready on the march. The Wtirtemberg army was en- 
 tirely officered by the Duke's own men. Orders had 
 been issued to forbid the Stuttgart Civil Guard from ex- 
 ercising and assembling, and ordering that a general 
 disarmament of the Civil Guard and of the peasants and 
 citizens should be enforced immediately the Duke had 
 crossed the frontier. All the fortresses in the duchy 
 had been provided with abundance of ammunition and 
 ordnance. 
 
 \ At Ludwigsburg the Duke halted to consult an 
 astrologer as to the prospect of his undertaking. Suess 
 laughed contemptuously at the pretences of this man, 
 and, pointing to a cannon, said to Charles Alexander, 
 " This is your best telescope." 
 
 The sealed orders were to be opened on the 13th, 
 and on that day the stroke was to be dealt. Already 
 Ludwigsburg was full of Wtirzburg soldiers. A 
 courier of the Duke with a letter had, in a drunken 
 squabble, been deprived of the dispatch ; this was 
 opened and shown to the Assembly, which assembled 
 in all haste and alarm. It revealed the plot. At once 
 some of the notables hastened to Ludwigsburg to have 
 an interview with their prince. He received them 
 roughly, and dismissed them without disavowing his 
 intentions. The consternation became general. The 
 day was storm)' ; clouds were whirled across the sky, 
 then came a drift of hail, then a gleam of sun. At 
 Ludwigsburg, the wind blew in whole ranges of 
 windows, shivering the glass. The alarm-bells rang 
 in the church towers, for fire had broken out in the 
 village of Eglosheim. 
 
290 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 The Assembly sent another deputation to Ludwigs- 
 burg, consisting of their oldest and most respected 
 members. They did not arrive till late, and unable to 
 obtain access through the front gates, crept round by 
 the kitchen entrance, and presented themselves un- 
 expectedly before the Duke at ten o'clock at night, as 
 he was retiring to rest from a ball that had been given. 
 Dancing was still going on in one of the wings, and 
 the strains of music entered the chamber when the old 
 notables of Wiirtemberg, men of venerable age and 
 high character, forced their way into the Duke's 
 presence. 
 
 Charles Alexander had but just come away from 
 
 the ball-room, seated himself in an arm-chair, and 
 drunk a powerful medicine presented him by his 
 chamberlain, Neuffer, in a silver bowl. Neuffer be- 
 longed to a family which had long been influential in 
 Wiirtemberg, honourable and patriotic. Scarce had 
 the Duke swallowed this draught when the deputation 
 appeared. He became livid with fury, and though 
 the interview took place with closed doors the servants 
 without heard a violent altercation, and the Duke's 
 voice raised as if he were vehemently excited. Pre- 
 sently the doors opened and the deputation came 
 forth, greatly agitated, one of the old men in his hurry 
 forgetting to take his cap away with him. Scarcely 
 were they gone when Neuffer dismissed the servants, 
 and himself went to a further wing of the palace. 
 
 _ The Duke, still excited, suddenly felt himself unwell, 
 ran into the antechamber, found no one there, stag- 
 gered into a third, then a fourth room, tore open a 
 window, and shouted into the great court for help ; but 
 
SC/JSSS OPPENHEIM. 291 
 
 his voice was drowned by the band in the illumined 
 ball-room, playing a valse. Then giddiness came over 
 the Duke, and he fell to the ground. The first to 
 arrive was Neuffer, and he found him insensible. He 
 drew his knife and lanced him. Blood flowed. The 
 Duke opened his eyes and gasped, " What is the 
 matter with me ? I am dying ! " He was placed in 
 an armchair, and died instantly. 
 ,** , That night not a window in Stuttgart had shown 
 light. The town was as a city of the dead. Every- 
 one was in alarm as to what would ensue on the 
 morrow, but in secret arms were being distributed 
 among the citizens and guilds. They would fight for 
 their constitution. Suddenly, at midnight, the news 
 spread that the Duke was dead. At once the streets, 
 were full of people, laughing, shouting, throwing them-, 
 selves into each other's arms, and before another hour! 
 the windows were illuminated with countless candles. 11 
 /■> Not a moment was lost. Duke Charles Rudolf of 
 Wtirtemberg-Neuenstadtwas invested with the regency, 
 and on March 19, General Remchingen was arrested 
 and deprived of his office. 
 
 ^ For once Suess' cleverness failed him. Relying on 
 his " absolutorium," he did not fly the country the 
 moment he heard of the death of the Duke. He 
 waited till he could place his valuables in safety. 
 He waited just too long, for he was arrested and con- 
 fined to his house. Then he did manage to escape, 
 and got the start of his enemies by an hour, but was re- 
 cognised and stopped by a Wlirtemberg officer, and 
 reconducted, to Stuttgart, where he was almost torn 
 n x On the following night a confectioner set up a transparency 
 exhibiting the Devil carrying off the Duke. 
 
292 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 to pieces by the infuriated populace, and with difficulty- 
 rescued from their hands. On March 19, he was sent 
 to the fortress of Hohenneuffen ; but thence he almost 
 succeeded in effecting his escape by bribing the guards 
 with the diamonds he had secreted about his person. 
 
 At first Suess bore his imprisonment with dignity. 
 He was confident, in the first place, that the " absolu- 
 torium " would not be impeached, and in the second, 
 that there was no documentary evidence discoverable 
 which could incriminate him. But as his imprison- 
 ment was protracted, and as he saw that the country 
 demanded a victim for the wrongs it had suffered, his 
 confidence and self-respect left him. Nevertheless, it 
 was not till the last that he was convinced that his 
 life as well as his ill-gotten gains would be taken from 
 him, and then he became a despicable figure, entreat- 
 ing mercy, and eagerly seeking to incriminate others 
 in the hopes of saving his own wretched life thereby. 
 
 ^ There were plenty of others as guilty as Suess — 
 nay, more so, for they were natives of Wiirtemberg, and 
 he an alien in blood and religion. But these others 
 had relations and friends to intercede for them, and 
 all felt that Suess was the man to be made a scape- 
 goat of, because he was friendless. 
 
 ,The mode of his execution was barbarous. His 
 trial had been protracted for eleven months ; at 
 length, on February 4, 1738, he was led forth to 
 execution — to be hung in an iron cage. This cage 
 had been made in 1596, and stood eight feet high, and 
 was four feet in diameter. It was composed of seven- 
 teen bars and fourteen cross-bars, and was circular. 
 The gallows was thirty-five feet high. The wretched 
 
SUESS OPPENHEIM. 293 
 
 man was first strangled in the cage, hung up in it 
 like a dead bird, and then the cage with him in it was 
 hoisted up to the full height of the gallows-tree. His 
 wealth was confiscated. 
 
 /\ Hallwachs and the other rascals who had been con- 
 federated with him in plundering their country were 
 banished, but were allowed to depart with all their 
 plunder. 
 
 Remchingen also escaped ; when arrested, he man- 
 aged to get rid of all compromising papers, which 
 were given by him to a chimney-sweep sent to him 
 down the chimney by some of the agents of the Bishop 
 of Wurzburg. 
 
 Such is the tragic story of the life of Suess Oppen- 
 heim, a man of no ordinaryabilities,remarkable shrewd- 
 ness, but without a spark of principle. But the chief 
 tragedy is to be found in the deterioration of the 
 character of Duke Charles Alexander, who, as Austrian 
 field-marshal and governor of Servia, had been the 
 soul of honour, generous and beloved ; who entered 
 on his duchy not only promising good government, 
 but heartily desiring to rule well for his people's good ; 
 and who in less than four years had forfeited the love 
 and respect of his subjects, and died meditating an 
 act which would have branded him as perjured — died 
 without having executed one of his good purposes, 
 and so hated by the people who had cheered him on 
 his entry into the capital, that, by general consent, 
 the mode of his death was not too curiously and 
 closely inquired into. 
 
33natiu6 jfessler. 
 
 On December 15th, 1839, in his eighty-fourth year, 
 died Ignatius Fessler, Lutheran Bishop, at St. Peters- 
 burg, a man who had gone through several phases of 
 religious belief and unbelief, a Hungarian by birth, a 
 Roman Catholic by education, a Capuchin friar, then 
 a deist, almost, if not quite, an atheist, professor of 
 Oriental languages in the university of Lemberg, 
 finally Lutheran Bishop in Finland. 
 
 He was principally remarkable as having been 
 largely instrumental in producing one of the most 
 salutary reforms of the Emperor Joseph II. 
 
 His autobiography published by him in 1824, when 
 he was seventy years old, affords a curious picture of 
 the way in which Joseph carried out those reforms, 
 and enables us to see how it was that they roused so 
 much opposition, and in so many cases failed to effect 
 the good that was designed. 
 
 Fessler, in his autobiography, paints himself in as 
 bright colours as he can lay on, but it is impossible 
 not to see that he was a man of little principle, selfish 
 and heartless. 
 
 The autobiography is so curious, and the experi- 
 ences of Fessler so varied, the times in which he lived 
 so eventful, and the book itself so little known, that 
 a short account of his career may perhaps interest, 
 and must be new to the generality of readers. 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 295 
 
 /^Ignatius Fessler was the son of parents in a humble 
 walk of life resident in Hungary, but Germans by ex- 
 traction. Ignatius was born in the year 1754, and as 
 the first child, was dedicated by his mother to God. 
 It was usual at that time for such children to be 
 dressed in ecclesiastical habits. Ignatius as soon as 
 he could walk was invested in a black cassock. His 
 earliest reading was in the lives of the saints and 
 martyrs, but at his first Communion his mother gave 
 him a Bible. That book and Thomas a Kempis were her 
 only literature. Long-continued prayer, daily reading 
 of religious books, and no others, moulded the open- 
 ing mind of her child. Exactly the same process 
 goes on in countless peasant houses in Catholic 
 Austria and Germany and Switzerland at the present 
 day. No such education, no such walling off of the 
 mind from secular influences is possible in England 
 or France. The first enthusiasm of the child was to 
 become a saint, his highest ambition to be a hermit 
 or a martyr. At the age of seven he was given to 
 be instructed by a Jesuit father, and was shortly after 
 admitted to communion. At the age of nine Ignatius 
 could read and speak Latin, and then he read with 
 avidity Cardinal Bona's Manductio ad Coelum. His 
 education was in the hands of the Carmelites at Raab. 
 Dr. Fessler records his affectionate remembrance of 
 his master, Father Raphael. Ignatius lounged, and 
 was lazy. '^Boy ! " said the Father, " have done 
 with lounging or you will live to be no good, but the 
 laughing stock of old women. Look at me aged 
 seventy, full of life and vigour, that comes of not 
 being a lounger when a boy." From the Carmelite 
 
296 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 school Ignatius passed into that of the Jesuits. His 
 advance was rapid ; but his reading was still in 
 Mystical Theology and his aim the attainment of the 
 contemplative, ecstatic life of devotion. So he 
 reached his seventeenth year. 
 
 Then his mother took him to Buda, to visit his 
 uncle who was lecturer on Philosophy in the Capuchin 
 Convent. The boy declared his desire to become a 
 Franciscan. His mother and uncle gave their ready 
 consent, and he entered on his noviciate, under the 
 name of Francis Innocent. "The name Innocent 
 became me well— really, at that time, I did not know 
 the difference between the sexes." 
 i r In 1774, when aged twenty, he took the oaths con- 
 stituting him a friar. All the fathers in the convent 
 approved, except one old man, Peregrinus, who re- 
 monstrated gravely, declaring that he foresaw that 
 Fessler would bring trouble on the fraternity. Father 
 Peregrinus was right, Fessler was one to whom the 
 life and rules and aim of the Order could never be 
 congenial. He had an eager, hungry mind, an in- 
 satiable craving for knowledge, and a passion for 
 books. The Capuchins were, and still are, recruited 1 
 from the lowest of the people, ignorant peasants with j 
 a traditional contempt for learning, and their teachers' 
 embued with the shallowest smattering of knowledge./ 
 Fessler, being devoid of means, could not enter one of 
 the cultured Orders, the Benedictines or the Jesuits. 
 Moreover, the Franciscan is, by his vow, without 
 property, he must live by begging, a rule fatal to self- 
 respect, and fostering idleness. S. Francis, the 
 founder, was a scion of a mercantile class, and the 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 297 
 
 beggary which he imposed on his Order, was due to 
 his revolt against the money-greed of his class. But 
 it has been a fruitful source of mischief. It deters 
 men with any sense of personal dignity from entering 
 the Order, and it invites into it the idle and the 
 ignorant. The Franciscan Order has been a fruitful 
 nursery of heresies, schisms and scandals. Now old 
 Father Peregrinus had sufficient insight into human 
 nature to see and judge that a man of pride, intellec- 
 tual power, and culture of mind, would be as a fish on 
 dry land in the Capuchin fraternity. He was not 
 listened to. Fessler was too young to know himself, 
 and the fathers too eager to secure a man of promise 
 and ability. 
 
 \The guardian, Coelestine, an amiable man, took a 
 liking to me. He taught me to play chess, and he 
 played more readily with me than with any of the 
 rest, which, not a little, puffed up my self-esteem. 
 The librarian, Leonidas, was .an old, learned, obliging 
 man, dearly loving his flowers. I fetched the water 
 for him to his flower-beds, and he showed me his 
 gratitude by letting me have the run of the library." 
 
 The library was not extensive, the books nearly all 
 theological, and the volume which Fessler was most 
 attracted by was Barbanson's "Ways of Divine Love." 
 \In 1775, Fessler made the acquaintance of a Cal- 
 vinist Baron, who lent him Fleury's " Ecclesiastical 
 History." This opened the young man's eyes to the 
 fact that the Church was not perfect, that the world 
 outside the Church was not utterly graceless. He 
 read his New Testament over seven times in that 
 year. Then his Calvinist friend lent him Muratori's 
 
298 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 " Treatise on the Mystical Devotions of the Monks." 
 His confidence was shaken. He no longer saw in the 
 Church the ideal of purity and perfect infallibility ; he 
 saw that Mystical Theology was a geography of cloud 
 castles. What profit was there in it ? To what end 
 did the friars live ? To grow cabbages, make snuff- 
 boxes, cardboard cases, which they painted — these 
 were their practical labours ; the rest of their time was 
 spent in prayer and meditation. 
 
 Then the young friar got hold of Hofmann-Wal- 
 dau's poems, and the sensuousness of their pictures 
 inflamed his imagination at the very time when re- 
 ligious ecstasy ceased to attract him. 
 
 What the result might have been, Fessler says, he 
 trembles to think, had he not been fortified by Seneca. 
 It is curious to note, and characteristic of the man, 
 that he was saved from demoralisation, not by the 
 New Testament, which did not touch his heart, but 
 by Seneca's moral axioms, which convinced his reason. 
 The Franciscans are allowed great liberty. They run 
 over the country collecting alms, they visit whom they 
 will, and to a man without principle, such liberty 
 offers dangerous occasions. 
 
 \ Fessler now resolved to leave an Order which was 
 odious to him. " Somewhat tranquillized by Seneca, 
 I now determined to shake myself loose from the 
 trammels of the cloister, without causing scandal. The 
 most easy way to do this was for me to take Orders, 
 and get a cure of souls or a chaplaincy to a nobleman." 
 He had no vocation for the ministry ; he looked to it 
 merely as a means of escape from uncongenial sur- 
 roundings. On signifying his desire to become a 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 299 
 
 priest, he was transferred to Gross Wardein, there to 
 pass the requisite course of studies. At Wardein he 
 gained the favour of the bishop and some of the 
 canons, who lent him books on the ecclesiastical and 
 political history of his native land. He also made 
 acquaintance with some families in the town, a lady 
 with two daughters, with the elder of whom he fell in 
 love. He had, however, sufficient decency not to de- 
 clare his passion. It was otherwise with a young 
 Calvinist tailor's widow, Sophie ; she replied to his 
 declaration very sensibly by a letter, which, he de- 
 clares, produced a lasting effect upon him. 
 V In 1776 he was removed to Schwachat to go through 
 .a course of Moral Theology. His disgust at his en- 
 forced studies, which he regarded as the thrashing of 
 empty husks, increased. He was angry at his removal 
 from the friends he had made at Wardein. Vexation, 
 irritation, doubt, threw him into a fever, and he was 
 transferred to the convent in the suburbs of Vienna, 
 where he could be under better medical care. The 
 physician who attended him soon saw that his patient's 
 malady was mental. Fessler opened his heart to him, 
 and begged for the loan of books more feeding to the 
 brain than the mystical rubbish in the convent library. 
 The doctor advised him to visit him, when discharged 
 as cured from the convent infirmary, instead of at 
 •once returning to Schwachat. This he did, and the 
 doctor introduced him to two men of eminence and 
 influence, Von Eybel and the prelate Rautenstrauch, 
 -a Benedictine abbot, the director of the Theological 
 Faculties in the Austrian Monarchy. This latter 
 promised Fessler to assist him in his studies, and 
 
300 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 urged him to study Greek and Hebrew, also to widen 
 the circle of his reading, to make acquaintance with 
 law, history, with natural science and geography, 
 and undertook to provide him with the requisite 
 books. 
 
 | On his return to Schwachat, Fessler appealed to 
 the Provincial against his Master of Studies whom 
 he pronounced to be an incompetent pedant. At his 
 request he was moved to Wiener-Neustadt. There 
 he found the lecturer on Ecclesiastical Studies as 
 superficial as the man from whom he had escaped. 
 This man did not object to Fessler pursuing his 
 Greek and Hebrew studies, nor to his taking from 
 the library what books he liked. 
 
 \ The young candidate now borrowed and devoured 
 deistical works, Hobbes, Tindal, Edelmann, and the 
 Wolfenbuttel Fragments. He had to be careful not 
 to let these books be seen, accordingly he hid them 
 under the floor in the choir. After midnight, when 
 matins had been sung, instead of returning to bed 
 with the rest, he remained, on the plea of devotion, in 
 the church, seated on the altar steps, reading deistical 
 works by the light of the sanctuary lamp, which he 
 pulled down to a proper level. He now completely 
 lost his faith, not in Christianity only, but in natural 
 religion as well. Nevertheless, he did not desist from 
 his purpose of seeking orders. He was ordained 
 deacon in 1778, and priest in 1779. '/On the Sunday 
 after Corpus Christi, I celebrated without faith, with- 
 out unction, my first mass, in the presence of my 
 mother, her brother, and the rest of my family. They 
 all received the communion from my hand, bathed in 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 30 [ 
 
 tears of emotion. I, who administered to them, was 
 frozen in unbelief." 
 
 j^The cure of souls he desired was not given him, no 
 chaplaincy was offered him. His prospect of escape 
 seemed no better than before. He became very im- 
 patient, and made himself troublesome in his convent. 
 As might have been suspected, he became restive 
 under the priestly obligations, as he had been under 
 the monastic rule. It is curious that, late in life, 
 when Fessler wrote his memoirs, he showed himself 
 blind to the unvvorthiness of his conduct in taking on 
 him the most sacred responsibilities to God and the 
 Church, when he disbelieved in both. He is, however, 
 careful to assure us that though without faith in his 
 functions, he executed them punctually, hearing con- 
 fessions, preaching and saying mass. But his conduct 
 is so odious, his after callousness so conspicuous, that 
 it is difficult to feel the smallest conviction of his con- 
 scientiousness at any time of his life. 
 N As he made himself disagreeable to his superiors 
 at Neustadt, he was transferred to Modling. There 
 he made acquaintance with a Herr Von Molinari and 
 was much at his house, where he met a young 
 Countess Louise. '\I cannot describe her stately 
 form, her arching brows, the expression of her large 
 blue eyes, the delicacy of her mouth, the music of her 
 tones, the exquisite harmony that exists in all her 
 movements, and what affects me more than all — she 
 speaks Latin easily, and only reads serious books." 
 So wrote Fessler in a letter at the time. He read 
 Ovid's Metamorphoses with her in the morning, and 
 walked with her in the evening. When, at the end 
 
3 02 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 of October, the family went to Vienna, " the absence 
 of that noble soul," he wrote, " filled me with 
 the most poignant grief." The Molinari family were 
 bitten with Jansenism, and hoped to bring the young 
 Capuchin to their views. Next year, in the spring of 
 1 78 1, they returned to Modling. 
 
 \" This year passed like the former ; in the convent 
 I was a model of obedience, in the school a master 
 of scholastic theology : in Molinari's family a humble 
 disciple of Jansen, in the morning a worshipper of the 
 muse of Louise, in the evening an agreeable social 
 companion," — in heart — an unbeliever in Christian- 
 ity. 
 
 \ A letter written to an uncle on March 12th, 1782, 
 must be quoted verbatim, containing as it does a 
 startling discovery, which gave him the opportunity 
 so long desired, of breaking with the Order : — 
 
 " Since the 23rd February, I sing without inter- 
 mission after David, in my inmost heart, ' Praise and 
 Glory be to God, who has delivered my enemies into 
 my hand ! ' Listen to the wonderful way in which this 
 has happened. On the night of the 23rd to 24th of 
 February, after eleven o'clock, I was roused from sleep 
 by a lay-brother. ' Take your crucifix/ said he ' and 
 follow me.' 
 
 " ' Whither ? ' I asked, panic struck. 
 
 " ' Whither I am about to lead you.' 
 
 " ' What am I to do ? ' 
 
 " ' I will tell you, when you are on the spot' 
 
 " ' Without knowing whither I go, and for what pur- 
 pose, go I will not.' 
 
 " ' The Guardian has given the order ; by virtue of 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 303 
 
 holy obedience you are bound to follow whither I 
 lead.' 
 
 \ " As soon as holy obedience is involved, no resist- 
 ance can be offered. Full of terror, I took my crucifix 
 and followed the lay-brother, who went before with a 
 dark lantern. Passing the cell of one of my fellow 
 scholars, I slipped in, shook him out of sleep, and 
 whispered in Latin twice in his ear, ' I am carried off, 
 God knows whither. If I do not appear to-morrow, 
 communicate with Rautenstrauch.' 
 V" Our way led through the kitchen, and beyond 
 it through a couple of chambers ; on opening the last, 
 the brother said, ' Seven steps down.' My heart con- 
 tracted, I thought I was doomed to see the last of 
 day-light. We entered a narrow passage, in which I 
 saw, half way down it, on the right, a little altar, on 
 the left some doors fastened with padlocks. My 
 guide unlocked one of these, and said, ' Here is a dying 
 man, Brother Nicomede, a Hungarian, who knows 
 little German, give him your spiritual assistance. I 
 will wait here. When he is dead, call me.' 
 
 " Before me lay an old man on his pallet, in a worn- 
 out habit, on a straw palliasse, under a blanket; his 
 hood covered his grey head, a snow-white beard 
 reached to his girdle. Beside the bedstead was an 
 old straw-covered chair, a dirty table, on which was a 
 lamp burning. I spoke a few words to the dying 
 man, who had almost lost his speech ; he gave me a 
 sign that he understood me. There was no possibility 
 of a confession. I spoke to him about love to God, 
 contrition for sin, and hope in the mercy of heaven ; 
 and when he squeezed my hand in token of inward 
 
304 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 emotion, I pronounced over him the General Abso- 
 lution. The rest of the while I was with him, I 
 uttered slowly, and at intervals, words of comfort and 
 hope of eternal blessedness. About three o'clock, 
 after a death agony of a quarter-of-an-hour, he had 
 passed out of the reach of trouble. 
 
 " Before I called the lay-brother, I looked round 
 the prison, and then swore over the corpse to inform 
 the Emperor of these horrors. Then I summoned 
 the lay-brother, and said, coldly, ' Brother Nicomede 
 is gone.' 
 
 " ' A good thing for him, too,' answered my guide, 
 in a tone equally indifferent. 
 
 " ' How long has he been here?' 
 
 " c Two and fifty years.' 
 
 " ' He has been severely punished for his fault' 
 
 " ' Yes, yes. He has never been ill before. He had 
 a stroke yesterday, when I brought him his meal.' 
 
 " ' What is the altar for in the passage ? ' 
 
 " ' One of the fathers says mass there on all festivals 
 for the lions, and communicates them. Do you see, 
 there is a little window in each of the doors, which is 
 then opened, and through it the lions make their con- 
 fession, hear mass, and receive communion.' 
 
 " ' Have you many lions here ? ' 
 
 " ' Four, two priests and two lay-brothers to be 
 attended on.' 
 
 " ' How long have they been here ? ' 
 
 " ' One for fifty, another for forty-two, the third for 
 fifteen, and the last for nine years.' 
 
 " ' Why are they here ? ' 
 
 " ' I don't know.' 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 305 
 
 " ' Why are they called lions ? ' 
 
 " c Because I am called the lion-ward.' 
 
 " I deemed it expedient to ask no more questions. 
 I got the lion-ward to light me to my cell, and there 
 in calmness considered what to do. 
 
 1" Next day, or rather, that same day, Feb. 24th, I 
 wrote in full all that had occurred, in a letter addressed 
 to the Emperor, with my signature attached. Shortly 
 after my arrival in Vienna I had made the acquaint- 
 ance of a Bohemian secular student named Bokorny, 
 a trusty man. On the morning of Feb. 25th, I made 
 him swear to give my letter to the Emperor, and keep 
 silence as to my proceeding. 
 
 "At 8 o'clock he was with my letter in the Couriers' 
 lobby of the palace, where there is usually a crowd of 
 persons with petitions awaiting the Emperor. Joseph 
 took my paper from my messenger, glanced hastily 
 at it, put it apart from the rest of the petitions, and 
 let my messenger go, after he had cautioned him 
 most seriously to hold his tongue. 
 
 " The blow is fallen ; what will be the result — 
 whether anything will come of it, I do not yet know.", 
 
 For many months no notice was taken of the letter. 
 It was not possible for the Emperor to take action at 
 once, for a few days later Pius VI. arrived in Vienna 
 on a visit to Joseph. 
 
 \ Joseph II. was an enthusiastic reformer ; he had 
 he liveliest regard for Frederick the Great, and tried 
 to copy him, but, as Frederick said, Joseph always 
 began where he ought to leave off. He had no sooner 
 become Emperor (1780) than he began a multitude 
 of reforms, with headlong impetuosity. He supposed 
 
3o5 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 that every abuse was to be rooted up by an exercise 
 of despotic power, and that his subjects would hail 
 freedom and enlightenment with enthusiasm. Re- 
 gardless of the power of hereditary association, he 
 arbitrarily upset existing institutions, in the con- 
 viction that he was promoting the welfare of his 
 subjects. He emancipated the Jews, and proclaimed 
 liberty of worship to all religious bodies except the 
 Deists, whom he condemned to receive five-and-twenty 
 strokes of the cane. He abolished the use of torture, 
 and reorganised the courts of justice. 
 
 The Pope, alarmed at the reforming spirit of Joseph, 
 and the innovations he was introducing into the 
 management of the Church, crossed the Alps with 
 the hope that in a personal interview he might 
 moderate the Emperor's zeal. He arrived only a few 
 days after Joseph had received the letter of Ignatius 
 Fessler, which was calculated to spur him to enact 
 still more sweeping reforms, and to steel his heart 
 against the papal blandishments. Nothing could 
 have come to his hands more opportunely. 
 
 In Vienna, in St. Stephen's, the Pope held a ponti- 
 fical mass. The Emperor did not honour it by his 
 presence. By order of Joseph, the back door of the 
 papal lodging was walled up, that Pius might receive 
 no visitors unknown to the Emperor, and guards were 
 placed at the entrance, to scrutinize those who sought 
 the presence of the Pope. Joseph lost dignity by 
 studied discourtesy ; and Kaunitz, his minister, was 
 allowed to be insulting. The latter received the Pope 
 when he visited him, in his dressing-gown, and in- 
 stead of kissing his hand, shook it heartily. Pius, 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 307 
 
 after spending five weeks in Vienna without affecting 
 anything, was constrained to depart. 
 \ Fessler saw him thrice, once, when the Pope said 
 mass in the Capuchin Church, he stood only three 
 paces from him. " Never did faith and unbelief, 
 Jansenism and Deism, struggle for the mastery in me 
 more furiously than then ; tears flowed from my eyes, 
 excited by my emotion, and at the end of the mass, I 
 felt convinced that I had seen either a man as full of 
 the burning love of God as a seraph, or the most ac- 
 complished actor in the world." Of the sincerity and 
 piety of Pius VI. there can be no question. He was 
 a good man, but not an able man. " At the conclu- 
 sion he turned to us young priests, asked of each his 
 name, length of time in the Order, and priesthood, 
 about our studies, and exhorted us, in a fatherly tone, 
 to be stout stones in the wall of the house of Israel, 
 in times of trouble present and to come." 
 v Before Pius departed, he gave his blessing to the 
 people from the balcony of the Jesuit Church. " The 
 Pope was seated on a throne under a gold-embroidered 
 canopy. Fifty thousand persons must have been 
 assembled below. Windows were full of heads, every 
 roof crowded. The Pope wore his triple-crowned 
 tiara, and was attended by three cardinals and two 
 bishops in full pontificals. He intoned the form of 
 absolution, in far-reaching voice, which was taken up 
 by the court choir of four hundred voices. When this 
 was done, Pius rose from his throne, the tiara was re- 
 moved from his head, he stepped forward, raised eyes 
 and arms to heaven, and in a pure ecstasy of devotion 
 poured forth a fervent prayer. Only sighs and sobs 
 
308 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 broke occasionally the perfect silence which reigned 
 among the vast throng of kneeling persons in the 
 great square. The Pope seemed rather to be raised 
 in ecstasy from his feet, than to stand. The prayer 
 lasted long, and the bishops put their hands to stay 
 up his arms ; it was like Moses on the mountain top, 
 with the rod of God in his hand, supported by Aaron 
 and Hur, as he prayed for his people striving below 
 with Amalek. At last this second Moses let his arms 
 fall, he raised his right hand, and blessed the people 
 in the name of the Triune God. At the Amen, the 
 cannon of the Freiung boomed, and were answered 
 by all the artillery on the fortifications of the city." 
 
 \The Pope was gone, and still no notice taken of 
 the petition. Molinari spoke to Fessler, who was 
 very hot about reform, and had drawn up a scheme 
 for the readjustment of the Church in the Empire, 
 which he sent to some of the ministers of the Emperor. 
 " My friend," said Molinari, " to pull down and to re- 
 build, to destroy and to re-create, are serious matters, 
 only to be taken in hand by one who has an earnest 
 vocation, and not to be made a means for self-seeking." 
 
 Fessler admits that there was truth in the reproach, 
 he was desirous of pushing himself into notice, and 
 he cared for the matter of " the lions," only because 
 he thought they would serve his selfish purpose. 
 Joseph now issued an order that no member of a 
 monastic order was to be admitted to a benefice who 
 had not passed an examination before the teachers 
 of the Seminaries. The superiors of the Capuchins 
 forbade their candidates going into these examina- 
 tions. Fessler stirred up revolt, and he and some 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 309 
 
 others, acting under his advice, demanded to be ad- 
 mitted to examination. His superior then informed 
 him that he was not intended by the Order to take a 
 cure of souls, he was about to be appointed lecturer 
 on Philosophy in one of the convents in Hungary. 
 In order to prevent his removal, and to force the 
 Order to an open rupture with him, Fessler had 
 recourse to a most unseemly and ungenerous act. 
 Whilst in Vienna, he had made the acquaintance of 
 an unmarried lady, the Baroness E. He had assisted 
 her in her studies, giving her instructions usually by 
 letter. His acquaintance, Von Eybel, had written a 
 book or tract, which had made a great stir, entitled, 
 " Who is the Pope ? " Fessler wrote another, entitled, 
 " Who is the Emperor ? " He sent a copy to the 
 publisher, but retained the original MS. Fessler 
 now wrote under a feigned name, and in a disguised 
 hand, a letter to Father Maximus, guardian of the 
 convent, charging himself with carrying on a guilty 
 correspondence with the Baroness E., and with the 
 composition of an inflammatory and anti-religious 
 pamphlet, " Who is the Emperor ? " Maximus at 
 once visited the Baroness, and showed her the letter. 
 The lady in great indignation produced the entire 
 correspondence, and handed the letters to him. 
 Maximus put them in the hands of the Lector of the 
 convent, who visited Fessler, and asked him if he 
 acknowledged the authorship of " these scandalous 
 letters." 
 
 " Scandalous, they are not," answered Fessler. 
 ^_ " Impius, cum in profundum venerit, contemnit" 
 roared the friar. " They are not only scandalous, 
 
310 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 but impious. Look at this letter on platonic love. 
 Is that a fit letter for such as you to write to a lady ? " 
 
 \ In consequence of these letters, and the MS. of the 
 pamphlet being found upon him, Fessler was de- 
 nounced to the Consistorial Court of the Archbishop. 
 He was summoned before it at the beginning of 
 August, when he was forced to admit he had been 
 wont to kiss the lady to whom he wrote on platonic 
 love, and the Consistory suspended him from the 
 exercise of his priestly functions for a month. 
 
 \ " I and the Lector returned to the convent silent, 
 as if strangers. When we arrived, the friars were at 
 table. I do not know how I got to my place ; but 
 after I had drunk my goblet of wine, all was clearer 
 about me. I seemed to hear the voice of Horace 
 calling to me from heaven, Perfer et obdura ! and in 
 a moment my self-respect revived, and I looked with 
 scorn on the seventy friars hungrily eating their 
 dinner." 
 
 \ Of his own despicable conduct, that he had richly 
 deserved his punishment, Fessler never seems to have 
 arrived at the perception. He was, indeed, a very 
 pitiful creature, arousing disgust and contempt in a 
 well-ordered mind ; and his Memoirs only deserve 
 notice because of the curious insight they afford into 
 the inner life of convents, and because he was the 
 means of bringing great scandals to light, and in 
 assisting Joseph II. in his work of reform. 
 \ At the beginning of September, 1782, Fessler was 
 the means of bringing a fresh scandal before the eyes 
 of the Emperor. During the preceding year, a 
 saddler in Schwachat had lost his wife, and was left, 
 
IGNA TIUS FESSL ER. 3 * I 
 
 not only a widower, but childless. His niece now 
 kept house for him, and was much afraid lest her 
 uncle should marry again, and that thus she should not 
 become his heir. She consulted a Capuchin, Father 
 Brictius. Fessler had been in the Schwachat convent, 
 and knew the man. Soon after, the niece assured her 
 uncle that the ghost of her aunt had appeared to her, 
 and told her she was suffering in Purgatory. For her 
 release, she must have ten masses said, and some 
 wax candles burnt. The saddler was content to have 
 his old woman " laid " at this price. But, after the 
 tenth mass, the niece declared she had seen her aunt 
 again, and that the spirit had appeared to her in the 
 presence of Father Brictius, and told her, that what 
 troubled her most of all was the suspicion she was 
 under, that her husband purposed marrying again ; 
 and she assured him, that were he so to do, he would 
 lose his soul, in token whereof, she laid her hand on 
 the cover of the niece's prayer-book, and left the im- 
 pression burnt into it. 
 
 \ Father Brictius carried the scorched book all round 
 the neighbourhood, the marks of thumb and five 
 fingers were clearly to be seen, burnt into the wooden 
 cover. Great was the excitement, and on all sides 
 masses for souls .were in demand. Some foolish 
 pastors even preached on the marvel. 
 \ It happened that a Viennese boy was apprenticed 
 to a tinker at Schwachat ; and the boy came home 
 every Saturday evening, to spend the day with his 
 parents, at Vienna. He generally brought Fessler 
 some little presents or messages from his friends at 
 Schwachat. One day, the boy complained to Fessler 
 
312 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 that he had been severely beaten by his master. On 
 being asked the reason, he replied, that he had been 
 engaged with the tinker making an iron hand, and 
 that he had spoiled it. Shortly after this, the rumour 
 of the miraculous hand laid on the prayer-book, 
 reached the convent. Fessler put the circumstances 
 together, and suspected he was on the track of a 
 fraud. He went at once to one of the ministers of 
 the Emperor, and told him what he knew. 
 
 v An imperial commission was issued, the tinker, the 
 saddler's niece, and Father Brictius, were arrested, 
 cross-questioned, and finally, confessed the trick. The 
 tinker was sent to prison for some months, the woman, 
 for some weeks, and the Franciscan was first im- 
 prisoned, and then banished the country. An account 
 of the fraud was issued, by Government authority, and 
 every parish priest was ordered to read it to his 
 parishioners from the pulpit. 
 
 The Capuchins at Vienna, after this, were more 
 impatient than before to send Fessler to Hungary, 
 and he was forced to appeal to the Emperor to pre- 
 vent his removal. 
 
 N Suddenly, quite unexpectedly, in the beginning of 
 October — seven months after Fessler had sent the 
 Emperor an account of the prison in the convent, 
 and when he despaired of notice being taken of it — 
 some imperial commissioners visited the convent and 
 demanded in the name of the Emperor to be shown 
 all over it. At the head of the Commission was 
 Hagelin, to whom Fessler had told his suspicions 
 about the iron hand. 
 VThe commissioners visited all the cells, and the 
 
IGNA TIUS FESSLER. 3 1 3 
 
 infirmary, then asked the Guardian thrice on hi.s 
 honour, and in the name of the Emperor, whether 
 there was a prison in the convent. Thrice the 
 Guardian replied that there was not. " Let us now 
 visit the kitchen," said Hagelin, and in spite of the 
 protests and excuses of the Guardian, he insisted on 
 being taken there. Beyond the kitchen was the 
 wash-house. The commissioners went further, and 
 found a small locked door. They insisted on its 
 being opened. Then the Guardian turned pale and 
 nearly fainted. The door was thrown open, the cells 
 
 ' were unlocked, and the lay brothers ordered to bring 
 the prisoners into the refectory. There the commis- 
 sioners remained alone with the unfortunates to take 
 down their depositions. It was found that three, 
 
 r Fathers Florentine, and Paternus, and the lay brother, 
 Nemesian, were out of their minds. The " lion-ward " 
 was summoned to answer for them. From "his ac- 
 count, it transpired that Nemesian had gone out of 
 his mind through religious enthusiasm ; he was aged 
 seventy-one, and had been fifty years in the dungeon. 
 Father Florentine was aged seventy -three, he had 
 been in confinement for forty-two years for boxing the 
 Guardian's ears in a fit of temper. Father Paternus was 
 locked up because he used to leave his convent without 
 permission, and when rebuked would not give up his 
 independent conduct. He had been fifteen years in 
 prison. His confinement had bereft him of his senses. 
 As the remaining two were in full possession of their 
 faculties, the "lion-ward " was now dismissed. The lay 
 brother Barnabas said he had been a shopkeeper's 
 servant in Vienna, he had fallen in love with his 
 
314 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 master's daughter. As his master refused to have 
 him as his son-in-law, out of despair he had gone into 
 the Capuchin Order. During his noviciate, the 
 master died ; the master of the novices stopped the 
 letter informing him of this, and he took the vows, 
 to discover, when too late, that the girl loved him, and 
 was ready to take him. In his mad rage, he flung 
 his rosary at the feet of the Guardian, declaring he 
 would never confess to, or receive the communion 
 from the hands of a father of this accursed Order. 
 He had been nine years in prison, and was thirty- 
 eight years old. 
 
 Father Thuribius had been caught reading Wie- 
 land, Gellert, Rabener, &c. ; they had been taken 
 from him. He got hold of other copies, they were 
 taken away a second time. A third time he procured 
 them, and when discovered, fought with his fists for 
 their retention. He had been repeatedly given the 
 cat o' nine tails, and had been locked up five months 
 and ten days. His age was twenty-eight. 
 v The commissioners at once suspended the Provin- 
 cial and the Guardian till further notice, and the five 
 unfortunates were handed over to the care of the 
 Brothers of Charity. 
 
 J That same day, throughout the entire monarchy, 
 every monastery and nunnery was visited by imperial 
 commissioners. 
 
 At the same time, the Emperor Joseph issued an 
 order that Fessler was on no account to be allowed 
 to leave Vienna, and that he took him under his im- 
 perial protection against all the devices of his mon- 
 astic enemies. 
 
IGNA TIUS FESSLER. 3 1 5 
 
 " Now came the sentence on the Guardian and the 
 Provincial from the Emperor. They were more 
 severely punished than perhaps they really deserved. 
 I felt for their sufferings more keenly, because I was 
 well aware that I had been moved to report against 
 them by any other motive rather than humanity ; 
 and even the consequences of my revelation, the set- 
 ting at liberty of a not inconsiderable number of un- 
 fortunate monks and nuns throughout the Austrian 
 Empire, could not set my conscience at rest. Only 
 the orders made by the Emperor rendering it impos- 
 sible to repeat such abuses, brought me any satisfac- 
 tion. The monastic prisons were everywhere de- 
 stroyed. Transgression of rules was henceforth to be 
 punished only by short periods of seclusion, and cases 
 of insanity were to be sent to the Brothers of Charity, 
 who managed the asylums." 
 
 \If Joseph II. had but possessed commonsense as 
 well as enthusiasm, he would have left his mark 
 deeper on his country than he did. 
 
 Fessler laid before him the schedule of studies in 
 the Franciscan Convents. Joseph then issued an 
 order (6th April, 1782], absolutely prohibiting the 
 course of studies in the cloisters. When Fessler saw 
 that the Guardian of his convent was transgressing 
 the decree, he appealed against him to the Emperor, 
 and had him dismissed. Next year Joseph required 
 all the students of the Capuchin Order to enter the 
 seminaries, and pass thence through the Universities. 
 But, unfortunately, Joseph had taken a step to alien- 
 ate from him the bishops and secular clergy, as well as 
 the monks and friars. He arbitrarily closed all the 
 
 ^ 
 
3i6 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 diocesan seminaries, and created seminaries of his 
 own for the candidates for Orders, to which he ap- 
 pointed the professors, thus entirely removing the 
 education of the clergy from the hands of the Church. 
 When the Bishop of Goritz expressed his dissatisfac- 
 tion, Joseph suppressed his see and banished him. 
 The professors he appointed to the universities, to 
 the chairs which were attended by candidates for 
 Orders, were in many cases free-thinkers and 
 rationalists. The professor of Biblical Exegesis at 
 Vienna was an ex-Jesuit, Monsperger, " His religious 
 system," says Fessler, who attended his course, " was 
 simply this, — a wise enjoyment of life, submission to 
 the inevitable, and prudence of conduct. That was 
 all. He had no other idea of Church than a reciprocal 
 bond of rights and duties. In his lectures he whittled 
 all the supernatural out of the Old Testament, and 
 taught his pupils to regard the book as a collection 
 of myths, romance, and contradictions. His lectures 
 brought me back from my trifling with Jansenism to 
 the point I had been at four years before under the 
 teaching of Hobbes, Tindal, and the Wolfenbtittel 
 Fragments. I resolved to doubt everything super- 
 natural and divine, without actually denying such 
 thing. — Strange ! I resolved to disbelieve, when I 
 never had believed." 
 
 *^On Feb. 6th, 1784, he received the Emperor's 
 appointment to the professorships of Biblical Exegesis 
 and Oriental languages in the University of Lemberg. 
 On the 20th Feb., on the eve of starting for Lemberg, 
 ^for ever to cast off the hated habit of S. Francis,, 
 and to shake off, as much as he dare, the 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 317 
 
 trammels of the priesthood, Fessler was in his cell 
 at midnight, counting the money he had received for 
 his journey. " To the right of me, on the table was a 
 dagger, given me as a parting present by the court 
 secretary, Grossinger. I was thinking of retiring to 
 rest, when my cell door was burst open, and in rushed 
 Father Sergius, a great meat-knife in his hand, 
 shouting, Moriere hazretice I he struck at my breast. 
 In an instant I seized my dagger, parried the blow, 
 and wounded my assailant in the hand. He let the 
 knife fall and ran away. I roused the Guardian, told 
 him what had occurred, and advised what was to be 
 done. Sergius, armed with two similar knives, had 
 locked himself into his cell. At the command of the 
 Guardian six lay-brothers burst open the door, and 
 beat the knives from his hands with sticks, then 
 dragged him off to the punishment-cell, where they 
 placed him under watch. Next morning I went with 
 the Guardian, as I had advised, to the president of the 
 Spiritual Commission, the Baron von Kresel, to inform 
 him that Father Sergius had gone raving mad, and 
 to ask that he might be committed to the custody of 
 the Brothers of Mercy. This was at once granted ; 
 and I left the Guardian to instruct the fanatic how 
 to comport himself in the hospital as a lunatic, so 
 as not to bring his superiors into further difficul- 
 ties." 
 
 \ The first acquaintance Fessler made in Lemberg, 
 was a renegade Franciscan friar, who had been 
 appointed Professor of Physic, " Ke was a man of 
 unbounded ambition and avarice, a political fanatic, 
 and a complete atheist." Joseph afterwards appointed 
 
318 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 this man to be mitred abbot of Zazvar. He died on 
 the scaffold in 1795, executed for high treason. 
 \ The seminarists of the Catholic and of the Uniat 
 Churches as well as the pupils from the religious Orders 
 were obliged to attend Fessler's lectures. These were 
 on the lines of these of Monsperger. Some of the 
 clergy in charge of the Seminarists were so uneasy at 
 Fessler's teaching that they stood up at his lectures 
 and disputed his assertions ; but Fessler boasts that 
 after a couple of months he got the young men round 
 to his views, and they groaned, hooted and stamped 
 down the remonstrants. He published at this time 
 two works, Institutiones linguarum orientalium, and a 
 Hebrew anthology for the use of the students. In the 
 latter he laid down certain canons for the interpret- 
 ation of the Old Testament, by means of which every- 
 thing miraculous might be explained away. 
 \ It was really intolerable that the candidates for 
 orders should be forcibly taught to disbelieve everything 
 their Church required them to hold. In his inspection 
 of the monasteries, in the suppression of many, Joseph 
 acted with justice, and the conscience of the people 
 approved, but in this matter of the education of the 
 clergy he violated the principles of common justice, 
 and the consequence was such wide-spread irritation, 
 that Joseph for a moment seemed inclined to give 
 way. That Joseph knew the rationalism of Fessler is 
 certain. The latter gives a conversation he had with 
 the Emperor, in which they discussed the " Ruah," 
 the Spirit of God, which moved on the face of the 
 waters, as said in the first chapter of Genesis. Fessler 
 told him that he considered " the expression to be a 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 
 
 319 
 
 Hebrew superlative, and to mean no more than that a 
 violent gale was blowing. Possibly," he added, 
 " Moses may have thought of the Schiva in the 
 Hindoo Trimurti ; for he was reared in all the wisdom 
 of the Egyptians, who were an Ethiopic race, which 
 was in turn an Indian colony." Dr. Fessler's Ethno- 
 logy was faulty, whatever may be thought of his 
 Theology. 
 
 After having given this explanation to the Emperor, 
 Fessler boldly asked him for a bishopric — he who 
 loathed his priesthood and disbelieved in revealed 
 religion ! 
 
 V Joseph did not give him a mitre, but made him 
 rofessor of Doctrinal Theology and Catholic Polemics 
 as well as of Biblical Exegesis. This did not satisfy 
 the ambitious soul of Fessler, he was bent on a mitre. 
 He waited with growing impatience. He sent his 
 books to Joseph. He did his utmost to force himself 
 into his notice. But the desired mitre did not come. 
 Fessler complains that scandalous stories circulated 
 about him whilst at Lemberg, and these possibly may 
 have reached the imperial ears. He asserts, and no 
 doubt with perfect truth, that these were unfounded. 
 He had made himself bitter enemies, and they would 
 not scruple to defame him. He boasts that at Lem- 
 berg he contracted no Platonic alliances ; he had no 
 attachements de cceur there at all. 
 
 The Emperor seemed to have forgotten him, to 
 have cast aside his useful tool. Filled with the bitter- 
 ness of defeated ambition, in 1788 he wrote a drama, 
 entitled James II., a covert attack on his protector, 
 Joseph II., whom he represented as falling away in 
 
320 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 his enthusiasm for reform, and succumbing to the 
 gathering hostility of Obscurantists and Jesuits. 
 
 This was not the case, but Joseph was in trouble 
 with his refractory subjects in the Low Countries, who 
 would not have his seminaries and professors, who 
 subscribed for the support of the ousted teachers, 
 and rioted at the introduction of the new professors 
 to the University of Louvain. 
 
 The play was put into rehearsal, but the police in- 
 terfered, and it was forbidden. Fessler either feared 
 or was warned that he was about to be arrested, and he 
 escaped over the frontier into Prussian Silesia. Joseph 
 CjL died in 1790, broken in spirit by his failures. 
 
 Fessler, after his escape from Austria, became a 
 salaried reader and secretary to the Count of Caro- 
 lath, whose wife was a princess of Saxe-Meiningen. 
 
 After a while he married a young woman of the 
 " middle class ; he seems to have doubted whether they 
 would be happy together, after he had proposed, ac- 
 cordingly he wrote her a long epistle, in the most 
 pedantic and dictorial style, informing her of what 
 his requirements were, and warning her to withdraw 
 from the contemplated union, if she were not sure she 
 would come up to the level of the perfect wife. The 
 poor creature no doubt wondered at the marvellous 
 love letter, but had no hesitation in saying she would 
 do her duty up to her lights. The result was not 
 happy. They led together a cat-and-dog life for ten 
 f years. She was~aThomely person without intellectual 
 parts, and he was essentially a book-worm. He ad- 
 mits that he did not shine in society, and leaves it to 
 be understood that the loss was on the side of inap- 
 
IGNA TIUS FESSLER, 32 1 
 
 preciative society, but we can not help suspecting 
 that he was opinionated, sour, and uncouth. All 
 these qualities were intensified in the narrow circle 
 of home. After ten years of misery he divorced 
 his wife on the ground of mutual incompatibility. 
 For a livelihood he took up Freemasonry, and went 
 about founding lodges. There were three rogues at 
 that period who worked Freemasonry for their own 
 ends, the Darmstadt Court Chaplain, Starck, a Baron 
 von Hundt, and a certain Becker, who called himself 
 Johnson, and pretended to be a delegate from the 
 mysterious, unknown head of the Society in Aber- 
 deen. They called themselves Masons of the Strict 
 Observance, but were mere swindlers. 
 
 After a while, Freemasonry lost its attractions for 
 Fessler, probably it ceased to pay, and then he left 
 Breslau, and wandered into Prussia. He wrote a 
 novel called " Marcus Aurelius," glorifying that em- 
 peror, for whom he entertained great veneration, and 
 did other literary work, which brought him in a little 
 money. Then he married again, a young, beautiful 
 and gifted woman, with a small property. He was 
 very happy in his choice, but less happy in the specu- 
 lation in which he invested her money and that of 
 her sisters. It failed, and they were reduced to ex- 
 treme poverty. What became of the sisters we do 
 not know. Fessler with his wife and children went 
 into Russia, and sponged for some time on the Mora- 
 vian Brothers, who treated him with great kindness, 
 and lent him money, " Which," he says, in his auto- 
 biography, " I have not yet been able to pay back 
 
 altogether." 
 
 x 
 
322 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 
 
 \ He lost some of his children. Distress, pecuniary- 
 embarrassments, and sickness, softened his heart, and 
 perhaps with that was combined a perception that if 
 he could get a pastorate he would be provided for ; x 
 this led to a conversion, which looks very much as if 
 it were copied from the famous conversion of St. 
 Augustine. It possibly was. to some extent, sincere ; 
 he recovered faith in God, and joined the Lutheran 
 community. Then he had his case and attainments 
 brought under the notice of the Czar, who was, at the 
 time, as Fessler probably knew, engaged in a scheme 
 for organising the Lutheran bodies in Finland into a 
 Church under Episcopal government. He chose 
 Fessler to be bishop of Saratow, and had him conse- 
 crated by the Swedish bishops, " Who," says Fessler, 
 " like the Anglican bishops, have preserved the Apos- 
 tolic succession." He makes much of this point, a 
 curious instance of the revival in his mind of old ideas 
 imbibed in his time of Catholicity. 
 \ According to his own account, he was a bishop 
 quite on the Apostolic model, and worked very hard 
 to bring his diocese into order. His ordination was 
 in 1820. In 1833, the Saratow consistory was dis- 
 solved, and he retired to St. Petersburg, where he was 
 appointed general superintendent of the Lutheran 
 community in the capital. He married a third time, 
 but says very little of the last wife. He concludes 
 with this estimate of his own character, which is 
 hardly that at which a reader of his autobiography 
 would arrive. "Earnestness and cheerfulness, rapid 
 
 1 JHe had, however, just received a pension from the Czar, 
 so that he was relieved from abject poverty. 
 
IGNATIUS FESSLER. 323 
 
 decision, and unbending determination, manly firm- 
 ness and childlike trueheartedness — these are the 
 ever recurring fundamental characteristics of my 
 nature. Add to these a gentle mysticism, to surround 
 the others with colour and unite them in harmony. 
 Sometimes it may be that dissonances occur, it may 
 be true that occasionally I thunder with powerful 
 lungs in my house, as if I were about to wreck and 
 shatter everything, but that is called forth only by 
 what is wrong. In my inmost being calm, peace, 
 and untroubled cheerfulness reign supreme. Discon- 
 tent, wrath, venom and gall, have not embittered one 
 moment of my life." x 
 
 ,^1 « of myself," he says, " I must confess that I have heard 
 great and famous preachers, true Bourdaloues, Massillons, Zolli- 
 kofers, &c, in Vienna, Carolath, Breslau, Berlin, Dresden, Leipzig, 
 Hanover, and have been pleased with the contents, arrangement, 
 and delivery of their sermons ; but never once have I felt my heart 
 stirred with religious emotion. Onthe contrary, on the 25thMarch, 
 1782, when Pius VI. said mass in the Capuchin Church, and on the 
 31st March, when he blessed the people, I trembled on the edge 
 of conviction and religious faith, and was only held back by my 
 inability to distinguish between religion and the Church system. 
 Still more now does the Sermon on the Mount move me, and 
 for the last 23 years the divine liturgical prayer in John xvii., 
 does not fail to stir my very soul." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 S. Cowan <£ Co., Printers, Perth. 
 
MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST OF NEW AND 
 FORTHCOMING WORKS. 
 
 By the Author of " Donovan," " We Two," cfcc. 
 
 Derrick Vaughan, Novelist. By Edna Lyall. Post 8vo, 
 2s. 6d. Twenty-fourth Thousand. 
 
 Our English. Villages : their Story and their Antiquities. 
 By P. H. Ditchfield, M.A., F.R.H.S., Rector of Barkham, 
 Berks. Post 8vo, 2s. 6d. Illustrated. 
 
 By the Author of " Mehalah," " John Herring," &e. 
 
 Historic Oddities and Strange Events. By S. Baring 
 Gould, M.A. First Series. Demy 8vo, 10s. 6d. 
 
 By the same Author. 
 Old Country Life. With numerous Illustrations, Initial 
 Letters, &c. Cr. Svo. 
 
 By the same Author. 
 Yorkshire Oddities. New and Cheaper Edition. (In the 
 Press.) 
 
 By the same Author. 
 Strange Survivals and Popular Superstitions. (In 
 Preparation. ) 
 
 By the same Author. 
 Arminell : A Social Romance. In 3 vols. Cr. 8vo. (On 
 November 1.) 
 
 Novel by a New Writer. 
 Alderdene. By Major Norris Paul. Cr. 8vo. 
 
 Edited by Rev. F. Langbridge. 
 Ballads of the Brave : Poems of Chivalry, Enterprise, 
 Courage, and Constancy — from the Earliest Times to the 
 Present Day. Edited by F. Langbridge. Cr. Svo. 
 
 By T. Raleigh, M.A. 
 Irish Politics : An Elementary Sketch. By T. Raleigh, M.A., 
 Fellow of All Souls Coll., Oxford. Fcp. 8vo. This book will 
 form the first vol. of a popular series on Elementary Politics 
 edited by Mr. Raleigh. 
 
 * 
 
CONGRESS 
 
 JinL 
 
 ■n 
 
 fflfiBHA 
 
 8ffl$SfiMfi$ 
 
 H 
 
 HhHm 
 
 III 
 
 HHk 
 
 IHS 
 
 raw! 
 
 «V 
 
 111 
 mm 
 
 Pi 
 ill 
 
 ■ 
 
 iw 
 
 ss« 
 
 QNf 
 
 @$ 
 
 M 
 jdbh 
 wBBBP 
 
 M$ 
 
 
 <m 
 
 li 
 
 UKN 
 
 tftN&Hftf 
 
 Wfl& 
 
 Mi 
 
 in 
 
 » 
 
 m 
 
 ^fi&$$ 
 
 NHI 
 
 1 
 
 H 
 
 m 
 
 
 HHi 
 
 ■ 
 
 flU 
 
 mm 
 
 r 
 
 mm 
 
 Ota 
 
 1 
 
 W 
 
 mM] 
 
 "mm 
 
 m 
 
 m