Book: Atlantic Monthly Volume 7, No. 39, January, 1861

V >> Various >> Atlantic Monthly Volume 7, No. 39, January, 1861




But this excitement gradually disappeared, and with it most of the
literature which it had called forth. There are a few names, however,
which occur frequently in connection with that of Caspar Hauser, to
whose opinions we shall subsequently call attention. They are Feuerbach,
Daumer, Merker, Stanhope, Binder, Meier, and Fuhrmann.[A] Of these,
Binder was his earliest protector; Feuerbach conducted the legal
investigations to which Caspar's mysterious appearance gave rise; Daumer
was for a long time his teacher and host; Stanhope adopted him; Meier
afterwards filled Daumer's place; and Fuhrmann was the clergyman who
attended his death-bed. Merker, though never thrown very closely in
contact with Caspar, was a Prussian Counsellor of Police, and as such
his opinion may perhaps have more than ordinary weight with some. Most
of them published their various opinions during Caspar's life or soon
after his death, and the subject was then allowed to sink to its proper
level and attract no further attention. Within a few years, however, it
has again been brought into prominent light by some new publications.
One of these is an essay written by Feuerbach and published in his works
edited by his son, in which he endeavors to prove that Caspar Hauser was
the son of the Grand Duchess Stephanie of Baden; another is a book by
Daumer, which he devotes entirely to the explosion of all theories that
have ever been advanced; and a third, by Dr. Eschricht, contends
that Caspar was at first an idiot and afterwards an impostor. Before
considering these different theories, let us recall the principal
incidents of his life. These have, indeed, been placed within the
reach of the English reader by the Earl of Stanhope's book and by a
translation of Feuerbach's "Kaspar Hauser. Beispiel eines Verbrechens am
Seelenleben des Menschen,"[B] published in Boston in 1832; but, as the
former has, we believe, obtained little circulation in this country, and
the latter is now probably out of print, a short account of the life of
this singular being may not be deemed amiss.

[Footnote A: Daumer, in his _Disclosures concerning Caspar Hauser_,
refers to a great many more than these; but it is impossible to follow
his example in so limited a space.]

[Footnote B: _Caspar Hauser. An Example of a Crime against the Life, of
Man's Soul_.]

On the 26th of May, 1828, a citizen of Nuremberg, while loitering in
front of his house in the outskirts of the town, saw, tottering towards
him, a lad of sixteen or seventeen years, coarsely and poorly clad. He
held in his hand a letter, which he presented to the citizen; but to
all questions as to who he was, whence he came, and what he wanted, he
replied only in an unintelligible jargon. The letter was addressed to
the captain of a cavalry company then stationed at Nuremberg, to whom
he was taken. It stated substantially, that a boy had been left at the
writer's door on the 7th of October, 1812, that the writer was a poor
laborer with a large family, but that he had nevertheless adopted the
boy, and had reared him in such strict seclusion from the world that not
even his existence was known. The letter said further, that, so far from
being able to answer, the lad could not even comprehend any questions
put to him. It therefore discouraged all attempts to obtain any
information in that way, and ended with the advice, that, according to
his desire, he should be made a dragoon, as his father had been before
him. Inclosed in this letter was a note, professedly by the mother, and
pretending to have been left with him, when, as an infant, Caspar Hauser
was first cast upon the world, but, in reality, as it was afterwards
proved, written by the same person. This note gave the date of his
birth, pleaded the poverty of the mother as an excuse for thus
abandoning her child, and contained the same request as to his joining a
cavalry regiment when he should arrive at the age of seventeen.

The first impression produced by Caspar's appearance and behavior was,
that he was some idiot or lunatic escaped from confinement; it remained
only to be shown whence he had escaped. In the mean time he was placed
under the protection of the police, who removed him to their guard-room.
There he showed no consciousness of what was going on around him; his
look was a dull, brutish stare; nor did he give any indication of
intelligence, until pen and paper were placed in his hand, when he wrote
clearly and repeatedly, "Kaspar Hauser." Since then he has been known by
that name.

When it became evident that the first conjectures concerning him were
wrong, strenuous efforts were made by the police to sound the mystery,
but without the slightest success. He himself could give no clue; for he
neither understood what others said nor could make himself understood.
With the exception of some six words, the sounds Caspar uttered were
entirely meaningless. He recognized none of the places where he had
been, no trace could be obtained of him elsewhere, and the most vigilant
search brought nothing to light. The surprise which his first appearance
produced increased as he became better known. It then became more and
more evident that he was neither an idiot nor a lunatic; at the same
time his manners were so peculiar, and his ignorance of civilized life
and his dislike for its customs so great, that all sorts of conjectures
were resorted to in order to explain the mystery.

It was ascertained that he must have been incarcerated in some dungeon,
entirely shut out from the light of the sun, which gave him great pain.
The structure of his body, the tenderness of his feet, and the great
difficulty and suffering which he experienced in walking, indicated
beyond a doubt that he had been kept in a sitting posture, with his legs
stretched straight out before him. His sustenance had been bread and
water; for he not only evinced great repugnance to any other food, but
the smallest quantity affected his constitution in the most violent
manner. It was also evident that he had never come in contact with human
beings, beyond what was necessary for supplying his immediate wants,
and, strange to say, teaching him to write.

That these inferences were well-founded was proved by the subsequent
disclosures of Caspar himself, after he had acquired a sufficient
command of language. The account he then gave was as follows.

"He neither knows who he is nor where his home is. It was only at
Nuremberg that he came into the world. Here he first learned, that,
besides himself and 'the man with whom he had always been,' there
existed other men and other creatures. As long as he can recollect, he
had always lived in a hole, (a small, low apartment, which he sometimes
calls a cage,) where he had always sat upon the ground, with bare feet,
and clothed only with a shirt and a pair of breeches. In his apartment,
he never heard a sound, whether produced by a man, by an animal, or by
anything else. He never saw the heavens, nor did there ever appear a
brightening (daylight) such as at Nuremberg, he never perceived any
difference between day and night, and much less did he ever get a sight
of the beautiful lights in the heavens. Whenever he awoke from sleep, he
found a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water by him. Sometimes his water
had a bad taste; whenever this was the case, he could no longer keep
his eyes open, but was compelled to fall asleep; and when he afterwards
awoke, he found that he had a clean shirt on, and that his nails had
been cut.[C]

[Footnote C: When he resided with Professor Daumer, a drop of opium in a
glass of water was administered to him. After swallowing a mouthful, he
exclaimed, "That water is nasty; it tastes exactly like the water I was
sometimes obliged to drink in my cage."]

"He never saw the face of the man who brought him his meat and drink. In
his hole he had two wooden horses and several ribbons. With these horses
he had always amused himself as long as he was awake; and his only
occupation was, to make them run by his side, and to arrange the ribbons
about them in different positions. Thus one day had passed the same as
another; but he had never felt the want of anything, had never been
sick, and--once only excepted--had never felt the sensation of pain.
Upon the whole, he had been much happier there than in the world, where
he was obliged to suffer so much. How long he had continued to live in
this situation he knew not; for he had had no knowledge of time. He
knew not when or how he came there. Nor had he any recollection of ever
having been in a different situation, or in any other than in that
place. The man with whom he had always been never did him any harm. Yet
one day, shortly before he was taken away, when he had been running his
horse too hard, and had made too much noise, the man came and struck
him upon his arm with a stick, or with a piece of wood; this caused the
wound which he brought with him to Nuremberg.

"Pretty nearly about the same time, the man once came into his prison,
placed a small table over his feet, and spread something white upon it,
which he now knows to have been paper; he then came behind him, so as
not to be seen by him, took hold of his hand, and moved it backwards and
forwards on the paper, with a thing (a lead pencil) which he had stuck
between his fingers. He (Hauser) was then ignorant of what it was; but
he was mightily pleased, when he saw the black figures which began to
appear upon the white paper. When he felt that his hand was free,
and the man was gone from him, he was so much pleased with this new
discovery, that he could never grow tired of drawing these figures
repeatedly upon the paper. This occupation almost made him neglect his
horses, although he did not know what those characters signified. The
man repeated his visits in the same manner several times.

"Another time the man came, lifted him from the place where he lay,
placed him on his feet, and endeavored to teach him to stand. This he
repeated at several different times. The manner in which he effected
this was the following: he seized him firmly around the breast, from
behind, placed his feet behind Caspar's feet, and lifted these, as in
stepping forward.

"Finally, the man appeared once again, placed Caspar's hands over his
shoulders, tied them fast, and thus carried him on his back out of the
prison. He was carried up (or down) a hill. He knows not how he felt;
all became night, and he was laid upon his back."--By the expression,
"all became night," he meant that he fainted away. The little which
Caspar was able to relate in regard to his journey is not of any
particular interest, and we omit it here.

This is all that is known with any certainty of the early life of this
unfortunate being. The conjectures to which it has given rise will be
considered later. Let us first finish his history.

As was to be expected, Caspar Hauser's faculties developed very
gradually. His mind was in a torpor, and, placed suddenly amid, to
him, most exciting scenes, it was long before he could understand the
simplest phenomena of Nature. The unfolding of his mind was exactly like
that of a child. Feuerbach, in his book on Caspar Hauser, gives the main
features of this gradual development. We can only pick out a few.

It is remarkable that in the same proportion as he advanced in knowledge
and acquaintance with civilized life, the intensity of all his faculties
diminished. It was so with his memory. He was at first able to exhibit
most surprising feats. As an experiment, thirty, forty, and, on one
occasion, forty-five names of persons were mentioned to him, which he
afterwards repeated with all their titles,--to him, of course, entirely
meaningless. So, too, with his power of sight. At first, he was able to
see in the dark perfectly well, and much better than in the light of the
sun, which was very painful to him. He very frequently amused himself
at others groping in the dark, when he experienced not the slightest
difficulty. On one occasion, in the evening, he read the name on a
door-plate at the distance of one hundred and eighty paces. This
keenness of vision did not, however, retain its entire vigor, but
decreased as he became more accustomed to the sun. For some time after
he made his appearance he had no idea of perspective, but would clutch
like a child at objects far off. Nor had he any conception of the
beauties of Nature, which he afterwards explained by saying that it then
appeared to him like a mass of colors jumbled together. Nothing was
beautiful, unless it was red, except a starry heaven,--and the emotion
which he felt, on first beholding this, was truly touching. Until then,
he had invariably spoken of "the man with whom he had always been" with
feelings of affection; he longed to return to him, and looked upon all
his studies as merely a temporary thing; some day he would go back and
show the man how much he had learned. But when he first looked upon the
heavens, his tone became entirely changed, and he denounced the man
severely for never having shown him such beautiful things.

All his senses were thus at first wonderfully keen. It was so with his
hearing and smell. The latter was the source of most of his sufferings;
for, being so exceedingly sensitive, even the most scentless things made
him sick. He liked but one smell, that of bread, which had been his only
food for seventeen years. It was a long time, indeed, before he could
take any other food at all, and he only became accustomed to it very
gradually.

The effect produced upon Caspar Hauser by contact with or proximity to
animals was also very curious. He was able to detect their presence
under singularly unfavorable circumstances. Metals, too, had a very
powerful effect upon him, and possessed for him a strong magnetic power.
But it is impossible to give all the details, however interesting; for
them we must refer to Feuerbach.

His mind, as has been already said, was at first sunk in almost
impenetrable darkness. He knew of but two divisions of earthly
things,--man and beast, "_bua_" and "_ross_." The former was a word
of his own. The latter, which is the German for _horse_, included
everything not human, whether animate or inanimate. Between these he for
a long time saw no difference. He could not understand why pictures and
statues did not move, and he regarded his toy-horses as living things.
To inanimate things impelled by foreign forces he ascribed volition.

Religion he, of course, had none. He possessed naturally a very amiable
character, and his thoughts and conduct were as pure as though guided by
the soundest system of morality. But he knew nothing of a God, and one
of the greatest difficulties Daumer had to encounter was instructing
him on this point. His untutored mind could not master the doctrines of
theology, and he was constantly puzzled by questions which he himself
suggested, and which his instructor often found it impossible to answer
satisfactorily.

Physically he was very weak. The shortest walk would fatigue him.
At first he could scarcely shuffle along at all, on account of the
tenderness of his feet, and because his body had always been kept in
one position. He so far overcame this, however, as to be able to walk a
little, though always with an effort. But on horseback he never became
tired. From the first time that he mounted a horse, he showed a love
for the exercise, and a power of endurance utterly at variance with all
other exhibitions of his strength; and he very soon acquired a degree
of skill which made him an object of envy to all the cavalry-officers
stationed in the neighborhood. So inconsistent and incomprehensible was
everything about Caspar Hauser!

In October, 1829, while residing in the family of Professor Daumer, an
attempt was made upon his life, which was only so far successful as to
give a very violent shock to his delicate constitution. The perpetrator
of the crime was never discovered. Caspar was afterwards adopted by the
Earl of Stanhope, and by him removed to Anspach. Feuerbach gives a very
interesting description of him, as he appeared at this time.

"In understanding a man, in knowledge a little child, and in many things
more ignorant than a child, the whole of his language and demeanor shows
often a strangely contrasted mingling of manly and childish behavior.
With a serious countenance and in a tone of great importance, he often
utters things which, coming from any other person of the same age, would
be called stupid or silly, but which, coming from him, always force upon
us a sad, compassionate smile. It is particularly farcical to hear him
speak of the future plans of his life,--of the manner in which, after
having learned a great deal and earned money, he intends to settle
himself with his wife, whom he considers as an indispensable part of
domestic furniture."

"Mild and gentle, without vicious inclinations, and without passions and
strong emotions, his quiet mind resembles the smooth mirror of a lake
in the stillness of a moonlight night. Incapable of hurting an animal,
compassionate even to the worm, which he is afraid to tread upon, timid
even to cowardice, he will nevertheless act regardless of consequences,
and even without forbearance, according to his own convictions, whenever
it becomes necessary to defend or to execute purposes which he has once
perceived and acknowledged to be right. If he feels himself annoyed in
any manner, he will long bear it patiently, and will try to get out of
the way of the person who is thus troublesome to him, or will endeavor
to effect a change in his conduct by mild expostulations; but, finally,
if he cannot help himself in any other manner, as soon as an opportunity
of doing so offers, he will very quietly slip off the bonds that confine
him,--yet without bearing the least malice against him who may have
injured him. He is obedient, obliging, and yielding; but the man who
accuses him wrongfully, or asserts to be true what he believes to be
untrue, need not expect, that, from mere complaisance, or from other
considerations, he will submit to injustice or to falsehood; he will
always modestly, but firmly, insist upon his right; or perhaps, if the
other seems inclined obstinately to maintain his ground against him, he
will silently leave him."

But the fate which had been pursuing this unfortunate being, and without
which the tragedy of his life would have been incomplete, overtook him
at last. On the 15th of December, 1833, he was induced by some unknown
person to meet him in a retired spot in the city of Anspach, under the
pretence that he should then have the secret of his parentage revealed
to him. The real object was his murder, and this time it was successful.
Caspar was stabbed to the heart. He still had sufficient strength left
to walk about a thousand paces; and, indeed, the wound was outwardly so
insignificant, that it was at first believed to be a mere scratch. This
strengthened an opinion which was then gradually gaining ground, that
Caspar was an impostor; for it was firmly believed by some that he had
inflicted this wound upon himself, as well as the one received in 1829,
in order to quicken the somewhat languishing interest taken in him. Nor
did they give up this opinion when the wound was found to be fatal. They
then boldly asserted that he had wounded himself more severely than
he had intended. And not content with simply maintaining this absurd
opinion, they taunted him with it on his death-bed, so that he was not
even allowed to die in peace. Nothing was wanting to fill his bitter
cup. How terrible must have been the mental torture to wring from
so resigned a soul the exclamation, "O God! O God! to die thus with
contumely and disgrace!" The German is still more expressive,--_"Ach,
Gott! ach, Gott! so abkratzen muessen mit Schimpf und Schande!"_

Such was the life of Caspar Hauser. For nearly seventeen years the
inmate of a dreary prison, shut out from the light, without a single
companion in his misery, drugged when it was necessary to change his
linen, with no food but bread,--for seventeen years did he thus exist,
--his mind a perfect blank. Suddenly cast upon the world, amid strange
beings whom he could not understand and by whom he was not understood,
he long knew scarcely a sensation save that of pain. And when at last
he did become accustomed to civilized life, and the darkness which
enshrouded him disappeared before the rays of light that found entrance
into his intellect, it was only to awake to a knowledge of the utter
misery of his position. He then saw himself a helpless orphan, the
inferior of all with whom he came in contact, and a dependant upon the
charity of others for his support. He awoke to find that he had lost
seventeen years of this beautiful life, seventeen years which he never
could recall,--that he never could take his stand amongst men as their
equal, but would always be regarded as an unhappy being meriting their
pity,--much like that felt for the pains of some suffering brute. Nor
was this all. During the few years that were granted him in our
world, persecuted by some unknown person, against whom he was
helpless,--knowing that his life was aimed at by some one, but unable
to protect himself, and at last falling a victim to the threatened
blow,--and, worst of all, charged on his death-bed with being an
impostor,--such was the life of Caspar Hauser!

Among the different opinions which have existed in regard to his origin,
the most noticeable are those advanced by Stanhope and Merker, and by
Daumer, Eschricht, and Feuerbach. The Earl of Stanhope's connection
with Caspar Hauser was a rather peculiar one. He made his appearance in
Nuremberg at the time the first attempt was made upon Caspar's life,
but took no particular notice of him, and left without having shown
any interest in him. On a second visit, about seven months later, he
suddenly became passionately attached to Caspar, showed most unusual
marks of fondness for him, and finally adopted him. He then removed him
to Anspach, and remained his protector until his death in December,
1833. The day after his burial, Stanhope appeared in Anspach, and took
particular pains to proclaim then, and subsequently at a judicial
investigation in Munich, and in several tracts, his belief that Caspar
was an impostor. This had already been maintained by Merker, the
Prussian Counsellor of Police. The theory which Stanhope now advanced
was, that Caspar was a journeyman tailor or glover, from some small
village on the Austrian side of the river Salzach. The reasons which he
assigns for his belief in the imposture are all derived from Caspar's
supposed want of integrity and veracity. They impeach the character of
Caspar living, and not of Caspar dead. Why, then, did Stanhope wait for
his death before he proclaimed the imposture? Why did he remain his
protector, and thus make himself a party to the fraud? His conduct is
not easily explained. On the other hand, there is little ground for
Daumer's conclusions. These are given at length in his "Disclosures
concerning Caspar Hauser," published in 1859, a book called forth by
attacks made upon him by Eschricht. Considering Stanhope's conduct, and
his endeavor after Caspar's death to induce Daumer to support his views
as to the imposture, and, upon his indignant refusal, making him twice
the object of a personal attack, Daumer thinks that there is reason to
believe Stanhope personally interested. He thinks that Caspar was the
legitimate heir to some great English estate and title, that he was
removed in order to make way for some one else, and that his murder was
intrusted to some person who had not the courage or the wickedness
to perpetrate it, but removed him first to Hungary and afterwards to
Germany, and supported him in the manner indicated, hoping that he would
not long survive. When, however, he grew up, his support became irksome
and he was cast upon the world. There he attracted so much attention,
that the instigator of the crime, dreading a disclosure, sought his
life again. When this proved unsuccessful, he was removed to Anspach;
Feuerbach, who had shown the greatest determination to sound the
mystery, was removed from the world, and at last the tragedy was made
complete in Caspar's own death. All this points to Stanhope. And yet
Daumer has not taken the trouble to inquire whether it agrees with the
family history. It is possible that he may be right; but his story
carries with it so much the air of improbability, that we cannot give it
credit without further proof.

In the seventh volume of Hitzig's "Annals of Criminal Jurisprudence,"
there is a communication from Lieutenant von Pirch, disclosing Caspar's
acquaintance with certain Hungarian words. A little while before this
announcement was made, a story had gone the rounds of the papers of
Germany, that a governess residing in Pesth had fainted away, when the
account of Caspar Hauser's appearance was related to her. All this
naturally attracted attention to Hungary as the probable place of his
birth; and it is for these reasons, that Feuerbach, Daumer, and others,
suppose that he spent some part of his childhood in that country. After
his death, Stanhope sent Lieutenant Hickel to Hungary to investigate the
matter, but no traces were discovered,--a proof, as Stanhope has it,
that these conclusions were groundless, and, according to Daumer,
another proof of Stanhope's complicity. He believes that the very
superficial search made by the order of Stanhope was intended to lull
suspicion and prevent a more strict search being made.

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