*Ø* Blogmanac | May 26 | 1828 Kaspar Hauser showed up in Nuremburg
This is a story that intrigues me as much for the way it captivated the German people of its day and succeeding generations, as for its intrinsic oddness.
On this day, at about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, a youth of about 16 or 17 years of age showed up in a pathetic condition in the marketplace in Nuremburg (or Nurenberg as it is sometimes spelt, among a few spellings), Germany. The lad was dressed in peasant clothes, and had with him a letter addressed to the cavalry captain of the city. He was led to the captain and interrogated, and it was found he could scarcely speak. To every question he replied “Von Regensburg” (from Regensburg) or “Ich woais nit” (I don't know). Except for dry bread and water, he showed a violent dislike to all forms of food and drink. He seemed ignorant of commonplace objects. He carried a handkerchief marked ‘KH’ and a few written Catholic prayers.
In the letter that he carried, it was stated that the writer was a poor day-labourer who had ten children of his own. The man had found the boy deposited on his doorstep by his mother, and had secretly brought the boy up as his own, keeping him confined to the house, somewhere in Bavaria. The boy, said the letter, had expressed an interest in becoming a horse soldier. Accompanying this letter was also a note purportedly from the boy's mother, saying that she, a poor girl, had had the baby, named Kaspar Hauser, on April 30 (Walpurgisnacht, the witching time), 1812, and that his father, an officer in Nuremburg's sixth regiment, was dead.
A burgomaster named Binder took a kindly interest in Kaspar. In the course of many conversations with him, it was discovered that the boy had been kept underground all his life, in a space so small he could not stretch to full length. He had been fed only on bread and water by a man who never showed himself.
Many rumours started to circulate as to the identity of the poor boy. Many said he was the son of a priest, or of a young lady of high rank. Some thought he might be a prince.
On July 18, 1828, the boy was handed over to Professor Daumer, who taught him and also became his biographer. On October 17, 1829, he was found bleeding from a slight wound on his forehead, which he said had been inflicted by a man with a “black head”. This incident created a great sensation; he was protected in the home of a magistrate by two soldiers. England’s Lord Stanhope came to see the now-famous boy, and sent him away to be educated.
In 1833 Kaspar, who was working without distinction in a court office, was approached by a stranger who said that Lord Stanhope wanted to meet him on December 14 at 3pm in the palace garden. Kaspar Hauser went to his rendezvous, but it was to be his last journey. There in the garden he was stabbed by the stranger. Kaspar Hauser died three days later, on December 17.
Conjecture has always surrounded this strange case. Some said he was the scion of a noble English house. Probably the secret of Kaspar Hauser will never be uncovered.
Pip Wilson's articles are available for your publication, on application. Further details
See feral children, and Wikipedia has a good article on Kaspar
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Here's an interesting piece from Ethiopia: Ethiopians pack concert to raise money for drought relief
Last but not least today: the Christ Crawler webbot
This is a story that intrigues me as much for the way it captivated the German people of its day and succeeding generations, as for its intrinsic oddness.
On this day, at about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, a youth of about 16 or 17 years of age showed up in a pathetic condition in the marketplace in Nuremburg (or Nurenberg as it is sometimes spelt, among a few spellings), Germany. The lad was dressed in peasant clothes, and had with him a letter addressed to the cavalry captain of the city. He was led to the captain and interrogated, and it was found he could scarcely speak. To every question he replied “Von Regensburg” (from Regensburg) or “Ich woais nit” (I don't know). Except for dry bread and water, he showed a violent dislike to all forms of food and drink. He seemed ignorant of commonplace objects. He carried a handkerchief marked ‘KH’ and a few written Catholic prayers.
In the letter that he carried, it was stated that the writer was a poor day-labourer who had ten children of his own. The man had found the boy deposited on his doorstep by his mother, and had secretly brought the boy up as his own, keeping him confined to the house, somewhere in Bavaria. The boy, said the letter, had expressed an interest in becoming a horse soldier. Accompanying this letter was also a note purportedly from the boy's mother, saying that she, a poor girl, had had the baby, named Kaspar Hauser, on April 30 (Walpurgisnacht, the witching time), 1812, and that his father, an officer in Nuremburg's sixth regiment, was dead.
A burgomaster named Binder took a kindly interest in Kaspar. In the course of many conversations with him, it was discovered that the boy had been kept underground all his life, in a space so small he could not stretch to full length. He had been fed only on bread and water by a man who never showed himself.
Many rumours started to circulate as to the identity of the poor boy. Many said he was the son of a priest, or of a young lady of high rank. Some thought he might be a prince.
On July 18, 1828, the boy was handed over to Professor Daumer, who taught him and also became his biographer. On October 17, 1829, he was found bleeding from a slight wound on his forehead, which he said had been inflicted by a man with a “black head”. This incident created a great sensation; he was protected in the home of a magistrate by two soldiers. England’s Lord Stanhope came to see the now-famous boy, and sent him away to be educated.
In 1833 Kaspar, who was working without distinction in a court office, was approached by a stranger who said that Lord Stanhope wanted to meet him on December 14 at 3pm in the palace garden. Kaspar Hauser went to his rendezvous, but it was to be his last journey. There in the garden he was stabbed by the stranger. Kaspar Hauser died three days later, on December 17.
Conjecture has always surrounded this strange case. Some said he was the scion of a noble English house. Probably the secret of Kaspar Hauser will never be uncovered.
Pip Wilson's articles are available for your publication, on application. Further details
See feral children, and Wikipedia has a good article on Kaspar
Here's an interesting piece from Ethiopia: Ethiopians pack concert to raise money for drought relief
Last but not least today: the Christ Crawler webbot
Pip Wilson posted item above at 12:10 PM | Permalink
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