Fischer happened that very day (July 12th) to be in Dresden. He had

been seen, and had been recognised.

He had come to Dresden to see his counsel, and ask him to use his

influence to obtain his complete discharge from police supervision,

and restoration to his rights as an honest man and a soldier, with a

claim to a pension.

A vast crowd of people rolled from the place of execution to the

house of Eisenstück, shouting, and threatening to tear Fischer to

pieces.

But Eisenstück was not the man to be terrified. He summoned a

carriage, entered it along with Fischer, and drove slowly, with the

utmost composure, through the angry crowd.

On August 26th, 1822, by command of the king, Fischer's name was

replaced in the army list, and he received his complete discharge

from all the consequences of the accusations made against him. He

was guaranteed his pension for his "faithful services through 16

years, and in the campaigns of 1813, 1814, and 1815, in which he had

conducted himself to the approval of all his officers."

How are we to explain the conduct of Kaltofen? The simplest way is

to admit that he spoke the truth; but against this is to be opposed

his denial that Fischer was guilty during the first six months

that he was under arrest. And it is impossible to believe that

Fischer was guilty, on the sole testimony of Kaltofen, without any

confirmatory evidence.

It is rather to be supposed that the inordinate vanity of the young

culprit induced him to persist in denouncing his innocent brother

gunner, so as to throw off his own shoulders some of the burden

of that crime, which, he felt, made him hateful in the eyes of

his fellow-citizens, and perhaps to induce them to regard him as

misled by an older man, more hardened and experienced in crime, thus

arousing their pity and sympathy in place of their disgust.

Jaspis, the pastor, did not himself believe in the criminality of

Fischer, and proposes a solution which he gives conjecturally only.

He suggests that Kaltofen was misled by the confession of Fischer

into the belief that he really had committed a murder or two,

though not those of Winter and Kügelgen, and that when he declared

on the scaffold that "Fischer deserved to die as much as himself,"

he spoke under this conviction. This explanation is untenable, for

the miserable man had repeatedly charged Fischer with assisting

him in committing these two particular crimes. The explanation

must be found in his self-conceit and eagerness to present himself

in the best and most affecting light before the public. And he

gained his point to some extent. The mob believed him, pitied him,

became sentimental over him, wept tears at his death, and cursed

the unfortunate Fischer. The apparent piety, the mock heroics, the

graceful attitudes, and the good looks of the murderer had won their

sympathies, and the general opinion of the vulgar was that they had

assisted at the sublimation of a saint to the seventh heaven, and

not at the well-deserved execution of a peculiarly heartless and

brutal murderer.

A month had hardly passed since Kaltofen's execution before Dresden

was shocked to hear of another murder--on this occasion by a young

woman. On August 12th, 1821, this person, who had been in a state

of excitement ever since the edifying death of Kaltofen, invited to

her house a young girl, just engaged to be married, and deliberately

murdered her; then marched off to the police and confessed her

crime--the nature of which she did not disguise. She desired to make

the same affecting and edifying end as Kaltofen. Above all, she

wanted to get herself talked about by all the mouths in Dresden. The

police on visiting her house found the murdered girl lying on the

bed. On the door in large letters the murderer had inscribed the

date of Kaltofen's martyrdom, July 12th, and she had committed her

crime on the same day one month after, desirous to share his glory.

Such was one consequence of this execution. A small farce also

succeeded it. Influenced by the general excitement provoked by the

murder of Kügelgen, the Jews had assembled and agreed, should any

of them be able to discover the murderer, that they would decline

the £150 offered by Government for information that might lead to

the apprehension of the guilty. But Hirschel Mendel, the Jew who had

produced the watch, put in his claim; whereupon Löbel Graff, who had

produced the coat, put in a counter claim. This occasioned a lawsuit

between the two Jews for the money. A compromise was finally patched

up, by which each received half.

Gerhard von Kügelgen had been buried in the Catholic cemetery at

Dresden on Maundy Thursday evening by moonlight. A great procession

of art students attended the funeral cortège with lighted torches,

and an oration was pronounced over his grave by his friend

Councillor Böttiger.

His tomb may still be seen in the cemetery; on it is inscribed:--

FRANZ GERHARD VON KÜGELGEN.

Born 6 Feb., 1772.

Died 27 March, 1820.

On the other side is the text, St. John xiv. 27.

Kügelgen left behind him two sons and a daughter. The eldest son,

Wilhelm, pursued his father's profession as an artist, and the

Emperor of Russia sent an annual grant of money to assist him in his

studies. There is a pleasant book, published anonymously by him, "An

Old Man's Youthful Reminiscences," the first edition of which was

issued in 1870, and which had reached its eighth edition in 1876.

Kügelgen's twin brother, Karl Ferdinand, after spending some years

in St. Petersburg and in Livonia, settled at Reval, and died in

1832. He was the author of a "Picturesque Journey in the Crimea,"

published in 1823.

Authority:--F. Ch. A. Hasse: Das Leben Gerhards von Kügelgen.

Leipzig, 1824. He gives in the Supplement an excerpt from the

records of the trial. As frontispiece is a portrait of the

artist by himself, very Raphaelesque.

The Poisoned Parsnips.

At the time when the banished Bourbons were wandering about

Europe seeking temporary asylums, during the period of Napoleon's

supremacy, a story circulated in 1804 relative to an attempt made

in Warsaw, which then belonged to Prussia, upon the life of the

Royal Family then residing there. It was said that a plot had been

formed, that was well nigh successful, to kill Louis XVIII., his

wife, the Duke and Duchess of Angoulême, and such of the Court as

sat at the Royal table, with a dish of poisoned parsnips. It was,

moreover, whispered that at the bottom of the plot was no other than

Napoleon himself, who sought to remove out of his way the legitimate

claimants to the Gallic throne.

The article in which the account of the attempt was made public was

in the _London Courier_ for August 20th, 1804, from which we will

now take the leading facts.

The Royal Family was living in Warsaw. Napoleon Bonaparte employed

an agent of the name of Galon Boyer at Warsaw to keep an eye on

them, and this man, it was reported, had engaged assassins at the

instigation of Napoleon to poison Louis XVIII. and the rest of

the Royal Family. The _Courier_ of August 21st, 1804, says: "Some

of the daily papers, which were not over anxious to discredit the

conspiracy imputed to Mr. Drake,[1] affect to throw some doubt

upon the account of the attempt upon the lives of the Royal Family

at Warsaw. They seem to think that had Bonaparte desired such a

plan, he could have executed it with more secrecy and effect.

Undoubtedly his plans of assassination have hitherto been more

successful, because his hapless victims were within his power--his

wounded soldiers at Jaffa, Toussaint L'Ouverture, Pichegru, and

the Duke D'Enghien. He could send his bloodhounds into Germany to

seize his prey; but Warsaw was too remote for him; he was under

the necessity of having recourse to less open means of sending his

assassins to act secretly. But it is deemed extraordinary that the

diabolical attempt should have failed. Why is it extraordinary that

a beneficent Providence should interpose to save the life of a just

prince? Have we not had signal instances of that interposition

in this country? For the accuracy of the account we published

yesterday, we pledge ourselves[2] that the fullest details,

authenticated by all Louis XVIII.'s Ministers--by the venerable

Archbishop of Rheims--by the Abbé Edgeworth, who administered the

last consolation of religion to Louis the XVI., have been received

in this country. All those persons were present when the poisoned

preparation was analysed by very eminent physicians, _who are the

subjects of the King of Prussia_.

[1] Drake was envoy of the British Government at Munich; he and

Spencer Smith, Chargé d'Affaires at Würtemberg, were accused by

Napoleon of being at the bottom of a counter revolution, and an

attempt to obtain his assassination. It was true that Drake and

Smith were in correspondence with parties in France with the

object of securing Hagenau and Strassburgo and throwing discord

among the troops of the Republic, but they never for a moment

thought of obtaining the assassination of the First Consul, as

far as we can judge from their correspondence that fell into the

hands of the French police.

[2] Unfortunately the British Museum file is imperfect, and does

not contain the Number for August 20th.

"The two wretches who attempted to corrupt the poor Frenchman were

openly protected by the French Consul or Commercial Agent.

"The Prussian Governor would not suffer them to be arrested in order

that their guilt or innocence might be legally investigated. Is it

to be believed that had there been no foundation for the charge

against them, the French agent would have afforded them less open

protection, and thereby strengthened the charge brought against

them? If they were protected and paid by the French agent, is it

probable that he paid them out of his own pocket, employed them in

such a plot of his own accord, and without order and instructions

from his own Government, from Bonaparte? Besides, did not the

President Hoym acknowledge his fears that some attempt would be made

upon the life of Louis the XVIII.?

"The accounts transmitted to this country were sent from Warsaw one

hour after the king had set out for Grodno."

The _Courier_ for August 24th, 1804, has the following note:--"We

have another strong fact which is no slight evidence in our minds

of Bonaparte's guilt. The plot against Louis the XVIII. was to be

executed at the end of July--it would be known about the beginning

of August. At that very period Bonaparte prohibits the importation

of all foreign journals without exception--that is, of all the means

by which the people could be informed of the diabolical deed. Why

does he issue this prohibition at the present moment, or why does

he issue it at all? Fouché says in his justification of it that it

is to prevent our knowing when the expedition sails. Have we ever

received any news about the expedition from the French papers? No,

no! the prohibition was with a view to the bloody scene to be acted

at Warsaw."

The _Courier_ of August 22nd contained full particulars. We will now

tell the whole story, from beginning to end, first of all as dressed

out by the fancy of Legitimists, and then according to the real

facts of the case as far as known.

Napoleon, it will be remembered, had been appointed First Consul for

life on August 2nd, 1802, but the Republic came to an end, and the

French Empire was established by the Senate on May 18th, 1804.

It was supposed--and we can excuse the excitement and intoxication

of wrath in the minds of all adherents of the Bourbons which could

suppose it--that Napoleon, who was thus refounding the Empire of

Charlemagne, desired to secure the stability of this new throne by

sweeping out of his way the legitimate claimants to that of France.

The whole legend of the attempt to assassinate Louis XVIII. by means

of a dish of poisoned parsnips is given us in complete form by the

author of a life of that prince twenty years after the event.[3] It

is to this effect:

When the King (Louis XVIII.) was preparing for his journey from

Warsaw to Grodno an atrocious attempt to assassinate him was brought

to light, which leaves no manner of doubt that it was the purpose

of those who were the secret movers in the plot to remove by poison

both the King and Queen and also the Duke of Angoulême and his wife.

Two delegates of Napoleon had been in Warsaw seeking for a man who

could execute the plan. A certain Coulon appeared most adapted to

their purpose, a man indigent and eager for money. He had previously

been in the service of one of the emigré nobles, and had access to

the kitchen of the Royal Family.

[3] A. de Beauchamp, Vie de Louis XVIII. Paris, 1824.

The agents of Napoleon gave Coulon drink, and as he became friendly

and lively under the influence of punch, they communicated to him

their scheme, and promised him money, the payment of his debts, and

to effect his escape if he would be their faithful servant in the

intrigue. Coulon pretended to yield to their solicitations, and a

rendezvous was appointed where the plans were to be matured. But

no sooner was Coulon at liberty than he went to his former master,

the Baron de Milleville, master of horse to the Queen, and told him

all. The Baron sought the Duc de Pienne, first gentleman of the

Royal household, and he on receiving the information communicated

it to the Count d'Avaray, Minister of Louis XVIII. Coulon received

orders to pretend to be ready to carry on the plot. He did this

with reluctance, but he did it. He told the agents of Napoleon that

he was in their hands and would blindly execute their orders. They

treated him now to champagne, and revealed to him the details of

the attempt. He was to get into the kitchen of the Royal household,

and was to pour the contents of a packet they gave him into one of

the pots in which the dinner for the Royal table was being cooked.

Coulon then demanded an instalment of his pay, and asked to be given

400 louis d'or. One of the agents then turned to the other and asked

if he thought Boyer would be disposed to advance so much--this was

Galon Boyer, the head agent sent purposely to Warsaw as spy on the

Royal Family, and the principal mover in the attempt.

The other agent replied that Boyer was not at the moment in Warsaw,

but he would be back in a couple of days. Coulon stuck to his point,

like a clever rascal, and refused to do anything till he felt gold

in his palm, and he was bidden wait till Boyer had been communicated

with. He was appointed another meeting on the moors at Novawies

outside the city.

As, next evening, Coulon was on his way to the place named, he

observed that he was followed by a man. Suddenly out of the corn

growing beside the road started a second. They were the agents.

They paid him a few dollars, promised to provide handsomely for

him in France, by giving him 400 louis d'or and a situation under

Government; and handed him a bottle of liquor that was to stimulate

his courage at the crucial moment, and also a paper packet that

contained three parsnips, that had been scooped out and filled with

poison. These he was to insinuate into one of the pots cooking for

dinner, and induce the cook to overlook what he had done, and serve

them up to the Royal Family.

The King then lived in a chateau at Lazienki, about a mile out of

Warsaw. Thither hastened Coulon as fast as his legs could carry

him, and he committed the parsnips to the Baron de Milleville. The

Count d'Avaray and the Archbishop of Rheims put their seals on the

parcel; after that the parsnips had first been shown to the Prussian

authorities, and they had been asked in all form to attest the

production of the poisoned roots, and to order the arrest of the

two agents of Napoleon, and to confront them with Coulon--and had

declined. Louis, when informed of the attempt, showed his wonted

composure. He wrote immediately to the Prussian President, Von Hoym,

and requested him to visit him at Lazienki, and consult what was to

be done.

Herr Von Hoym did not answer; nor did he go to the King, but

communicated with his superiors. Finally there arrived a diplomatic

reply declining to interfere in the matter, as it was the concern

of the police to investigate it, and it should be taken up in the

ordinary way.

Thereupon the King requested that Coulon and his wife should be

secured, and that specialists should be appointed who, along with

the Royal physician, might examine the parsnips alleged to be

poisoned.

But the Prussian Courts declined again to take any steps. The policy

of the Prussian Cabinet under Count Haugwitz was favourable to a

French alliance, and the King of Prussia was among the first of the

greater Powers which had formally recognised the French Emperor.

On condition that the French troops occupying Hanover should not

be augmented, and that war, if it broke out with Russia, should

be so carried on as not to inconvenience and sweep over Prussian

territory, Prussia had undertaken to observe a strict neutrality.

In return for these concessions, which were of great moment to

Napoleon, he openly proclaimed his intention to augment the strength

of Prussia, and it was hoped at Berlin that the price paid would be

the incorporation of Hanover with Prussia.

At this moment, consequently, the Prussian Government was most

unwilling to meddle in an investigation which threatened to lead to

revelations most compromising to the character of Napoleon, and most

inconvenient for itself.

As the Prussian courts would not take up the matter of the parsnips,

a private investigation was made by the Count d'Avaray, with

the Royal physician, Dr. Lefèvre, and the Warsaw physician, Dr.

Gagatkiewicz, together with the Apothecary Guidel and a certain Dr.

Bergozoni. The seals were broken in their presence, and the three

roots were examined. It was ascertained that they were stuffed

with a mixture of white, yellow, and red arsenic. This having been

ascertained, and a statement of the fact duly drawn up, and signed,

the president of the police, Herr von Tilly, was communicated with.

He, however, declined to interfere, as had the President von Hoym.

"Thus," says M. Beauchamp, "one court shuffled the matter off on

another, backwards and forwards, so as not to have to decide on the

matter, a specimen of the results of the system adopted at this time

by the Prussian Cabinet."

No other means of investigation remained but for Count d'Avaray

to have the matter gone into by the court of the exiled King. They

examined Coulon, who held firmly to his story as told to the Baron

de Milleville, and all present were convinced that he spoke the

truth.

As the King could obtain no justice from the hands of Prussia, he

suffered the story to be made public in order that the opinion of

all honourable men in Europe might be expressed on the conduct of

both Napoleon and of the Prussian Ministry. "The impression made,"

says M. Beauchamp, "especially in England, was deep. Men recalled

Bonaparte's former crimes that had been proved--the poisoning at

Jaffa, the--at the time--very fresh indignation provoked by the

murder of the Count de Frotté, of Pichegru, of Captain Wright, of

the Duke d'Enghien, of Toussaint l'Ouverture; they recalled the lack

of success he had experienced in demanding of Louis XVIII. a formal

renunciation of his claims, and weighed well the determination of

his character. Even the refusal of the Prussian courts to go into

the charge (for if it had been investigated they must needs have

pronounced judgment on it)--encouraged suspicion. Hardly an English

newspaper did not condemn Napoleon as the instigator of an attempt

that providentially failed."

Such is the legend as formulated by M. de Beauchamp. Fortunately

there exists documentary evidence in the archives of the courts at

Berlin that gives an altogether different complexion to the story,

and entirely clears the name of Napoleon from stain of complicity in

this matter. It throws, moreover, a light, by no means favourable,

on those of the Legitimist party clustered about the fallen monarch.

Louis XVIII., obliged to fly from one land to another before the

forces of Napoleon, was staying for a while at Warsaw, in the year

1804, under the incognito of the Count de l'Isle. His misfortunes

had not broken his spirit or diminished his pretensions. He was

surrounded by a little court in spite of his incognito; and as

this little court had no affairs of State to transact, it played a

niggling game at petty intrigue. This court consisted of the Count

d'Avaray, the Archbishop of Rheims, the Duke de Pienne, the Marquis

de Bonney, the Duke d'Avré de Croy, the Count de la Chapelle, the

Counts Damas Crux and Stephen de Damas, and the Abbés Edgeworth and

Frimont. Louis had assured Napoleon he would rather eat black bread

than resign his pretensions. At Warsaw he maintained his pretensions

to the full, but did not eat black bread; he kept a very respectable

kitchen. The close alliance between Prussia and France forced him to

leave Warsaw and migrate into Russia.

At this time there lived in Warsaw a certain Jean Coulon, son of

a small shopkeeper at Lyons, who had led an adventurous life. At

the age of nine he had run away from home and attached himself

to a wandering dramatic company; then had gone into service to

a wigmaker, and had lived for three years at Barcelona at his

handicraft. But wigs were going out of fashion, and he threw up an

unprofitable trade, and enlisted in a legion of emigrés, but in

consequence of some quarrel with a Spaniard was handed over to the

Spanish authorities. He purchased his pardon by enlisting in the

Spanish army, but deserted and joined the French Republican troops,

was in the battle of Novi, ran away, and joined the corps raised at

Naples by Cardinal Ruffo. When this corps was dispersed, he went

back to Spain, again enlisted, and was shipped for St. Lucia. The

vessel in which he was, was captured by an English cruiser, and

he was taken into Plymouth and sent up to Dartmoor as prisoner of

war. After two years he was exchanged and was shipped to Cuxhaven.

Thence he went to Altona, where he asked the intervention of the

Duke d'Avré in his favour. The Duke recommended him to the Countess

de l'Isle, and he was taken into the service of her master of horse,

the Baron de Milleville, and came to Warsaw in September, 1803.

There he married, left his service and set up a café and billiard

room that was frequented by the retainers and servants of the emigré

nobility that hovered about the King and Queen. He was then aged

32, could speak Italian and Spanish as well as French, and was a

thorough soldier of fortune, impecunious, loving pleasure, and

wholly without principles, political or religious.

Freaks of Fanaticism, and Other Strange Events · 第 4 / 24 段