picture of that fatal house which in Thebes offered to the Grecian observers the spectacle of dire auguries, emerging from darkness through three generations, à plusieurs reprises. Every body knows the fatal pollution of the marriage pomps on the reception of Marie Antoinette in Paris; the num

bers who perished are still spoken of obscurely as to the amount, and with shuddering awe for the unparalleled horrors standing in the background of the fatal reign-horrors

"That, hush'd in grim repose, await their evening prey."

But in the life of Goethe is mentioned a still more portentous (though more shadowy) omen in the pictorial decorations of the arras which adorned the pavilion on the French frontier: the first objects which met the Austrian Archduchess on being hailed as Dauphiness was a succession of the most tragic groups from the most awful section of the Grecian theatre. The next alliance of the same kind between the same great empires, in the persons of Napoleon and the Archduchess Marie Louisa, was overshadowed by the same unhappy omens, and, as we all remember, with the same unhappy results, within a brief period of five years.

Or, if we should resort to the fixed and monumental rather than to these auguries of great nations such, for instance, as were embodied in those Palladia, or protesting talismans, which capital cities, whether Pagan or Christian, glorified through a period of twenty-five hundred years, we shall find a long succession of these enchanted pledges, from the earliest precedent of Troy (whose palladium was undoubtedly a talisman) down to that equally memorable, and bearing the same name, at Western Rome. We may pass, by a vast transition of two and a half millennia, to that great talisman of Constantinople, the triple serpent, (having perhaps an original reference to the Mosaic serpent of the wilderness, which healed the infected by the simple act of looking upon it, as the symbol of the Redeemer, held aloft upon the Cross for the deliverance from moral contagion.) This great

consecrated talisman, venerated equally by Christian, by Pagan, and by Mahometan, was struck on the head by Mahomet the Second, on that same day, May 29th of 1453, in which he mastered by storm this glorious city, the bulwark of eastern Christendom, and the immediate rival of his own European throne at Adrianople. But mark the superfetation of omensomen supervening upon omen, augury engrafted upon augury. was a sad one for Christianity: just 720 years before the western horn of Islam had been rebutted in France by the Germans, chiefly under Charles Martel. But now it seemed as though another horn, even more vigorous, was preparing to assault Christendom and its hopes from the eastern quarter. At this epoch, in the very hour of triumph, when the last of the Cæsars had glorified his station, and sealed his testimony by martyrdom, the fanatical Sultan, riding to his stirrups in blood, and wielding that iron mace which had been his sole weapon, as well as cognizance, through the battle, advanced to the column, round which the triple serpent soared spirally upwards. He smote the brazen talisman; he shattered one head; he left it mutilated as the record of his great revolution; but crush it, destroy it, he did not-as a symbol prefiguring the fortunes of Mahometanism, his people noticed, that in the critical hour of fate, which stamped the Sultan's acts with efficacy through ages, he had been prompted by his secret genius only to "scotch the snake," not to crush it. Afterwards the fatal hour was gone by; and this imperfect augury has since concurred traditionally with the Mahometan prophecies about the Adrianople gate of Constantinople, to depress the ultimate hopes of Islam in the midst of all its insolence. The very haughtiest of the Mussulmans believe that the gate is already in existence, through which the red Giaours (the Russi) shall pass to the conquest of Stamboul; and that everywhere, in Europe at least, the hat of Frangistan is destined to surmount the turbanthe crescent must go down before the No. CCXCV.

VOL. XLVII.

On the top of an eminence forming the outskirts of a mountainous and woody region in the south of Germany, stands a small chapel dedicated to St Anne, rarely visited except by passing peasants, or on the festivals of the saint or other holidays, when crowds of pilgrims are in the habit of resorting to it. Early in the morning of the 26th of August 1816, a peasant from a village at some distance was ascending the narrow footpath leading to the chapel. His little boy, who accompanied him, had run on before. As he reached the immediate neighbourhood of the chapel, the child turned back with breathless haste, and in accents of terror urged his father to advance. The old man hastened forward in alarm; and his first glance, as he reached the level of the chapel, rested upon a corpse. Steeped in blood, and stripped to the shirt, the lower part of the body covered with long, loose, and lightcoloured pantaloons, covering boots with spurs-there lay upon the steps of the chapel the body of a well-shaped young man: his right hand rested on his breast, and on his finger sparkled a heavy gold seal-ring.

The peasant instantly dispatched the boy to the nearest village to communicate the discovery, while he himself remained by the body. It struck him as singular, that so little blood should be found beside it. If a murder had taken place, this surely had not been the spot where it had been

perpetrated. The trace of footsteps, still visible, thoughevidently artificially obliterated, pointed sideways into the wood, above which, at some distance, rose a rugged and lofty peak of rock called the Raubstein, on the summit of which the fragments of an old building were still visible, to which the usual traditionary tales of superstitious terror were attached. The direction which the enquiry was likely to take was quite sufficient to deter the peasant from further investigation, till the arrival of the juge de paix and the surgeon of the village, who, accompanied by a numerous tribe of those idlers who are always in attendance on such occasions, soon after made their appearance.

The body was examined, on which slight symptoms of incipient decay were already perceptible. Under the shirt a particoloured bandage, apparently the fragment of a woman's shawl, was found carefully wrapped around the breast. Beneath it, and on the left breast, lay a second roll of cloth, adhering closely to the body by means of coagulated blood, and covering a broad and deep wound penetraing to the heart, and evidently inflicted with a sharp two-edged instrument, apparently a knife. The dissection of the body led to the conclusion that death had taken place after indulgence in wine, and probably to excess.

While the examination was proceeding, one of the spectators who had

20

followed the traces of the footsteps in the direction of the Raubstein, returned and announced to the judge that the crime had undoubtedly been committed within the ruined building on the summit. The judge, the physician, and the spectators immediately hastened to the spot, which all appearances indicated to have been the scene of the murder. Blood besmeared the floor and was sprinkled along the walls; round about lay the remains of a recent meal; crusts of bread, parings of fruit, and the remains of a broken bottle, in which some drops of a sweet and heavy wine were still left. The traces of footsteps leading from the chapel towards the ruin were indistinct, but in the opposite direction leading from the ruin towards the highroad to Hilgenberg, they were plainly discernible; not far from the building was found another stripe of the same particoloured silk which was wrapped round the body, and deeper in the underwood, suspended on a low bush, along woman's glove, of Danish leather, finely wrought and quite new, but stained with some dark spots, in which the physician recognised the appearance of blood. By degrees the footprints became less distinct, and were at last lost in the beaten highway leading to Hilgenberg.

In the hope that it might lead to a recognition, the spectators who thronged to the spot were allowed to view the corpse without impediment. The examination, however, led to no result, and with the approach of evening the body was conveyed to its last restingplace in the churchyard of the neighbouring village of Hoffstede.

Next morning, however, the landlord of a small forest inn at a little distance made his appearance before the judge, who had seen the dead man the evening before, after the body had been put into the coffin. He had recognised in him a stranger who had lodged in his house, the night before the 24th August, and had left it early that morning. Of his name, his rank, his former residence, or his destination, he was ignorant. His own conjecture -which, however, rested on nothing more conclusive than that the deceased

wore boots and spurs-was, that he was an officer of some of the corps which were cantoned in the neighbourhood. Being urged still farther to describe any

other articles of dress belonging to the stranger, the landlord mentioned a gold watch with a chain and key; a red pocketbook, a green silk double purse which he had put into the landlord's hand before going to sleep, and had received from him again next morning; and two rings, one of which was a seal-ring, the other a slender hoop-ring. The seal-ring, which had been found-upon the finger of the deceased, being shown to him, was recognised by him as that which had been worn by his guest.

For some time no further clue was found, either to the person of the victim, or the cause of his death, though the investigation was actively pursued by the Ober-Procurator of the criminal tribunal, which then held its sittings at Hainburg. In the course of the month of November, however, a communication was made to the tribunal from the president of the police of the department of K, to this effect: that a certain Herr Von Breisach, said to be a native of the province of B-, who had for some time resided as a private individual at K-, and was in the habit of making excursions from thence-sometimes for days at a time - into the mountains, had disappeared towards the end of August, and had never returned. His housekeeper, who, alarmed at his absence, had made application to the police, was now summoned to Hainburg; and, from her information, there seemed little reason to doubt that the deceased and Von Breisach were the same person. She came, accompanied by an invalid soldier, who had been for some time in the service of Breisach, and who at once recognised the boots as having frequently passed through his hands. Both of them, of their own accord, particularized the gold watch and the two rings of which the landlord had spoken: though they could not absolutely identify the seal-ring, they thought it the same which their master had worn; the other ring they described as a plain one, resembling a marriage-ring.

The accounts given by them and others as to the habits of Breisach were far from favourable. He had led a retired, but, as it appeared, discreditable life in K. Report spoke of his connexion with an actress of that theatre; a connexion which had ab

ruptly terminated some time before his disappearance; the actress had afterwards quitted the town--for what quarter was unknown.

Promising as these explanations at first sight appeared, they were not found materially to advance the enquiry. Who was this Herr von Breisach? The name was totally unknown in the district; it was not to be found in any of the registers of nobility; the arms upon the seal-ring, though shown to many, were not recognised by any one: both name and arms might be the mere assumption of an adventurer.

A fortunate chance, however, removed the difficulty which had baffled enquiry. The name of Breisach happening to be mentioned in a private circle, in the presence of an ex-diplomatist distinguished for his skill in heraldry, he remarked that there might be a mistake in the writing of the name; that he knew a noble family of the name of Preussach, and was himself in possession of their coat of arms. The remark was communicated to the official persons who were engaged in the enquiry, and the stranger was requested to exhibit to them the arms of the noble family to which he had alluded. They corresponded in the minutest particulars with those engraved upon the seal-ring.

One branch of this family it appeared was settled in the province of B-, the alleged birthplace, it may be recollected, of the personage who, towards the close of August, had disappeared from K.

The Ober-Procurator immediately put himself in communication with the government of that province, and in a short time a written answer was received from a Ferdinand von Preus sach, who announced himself as the second son of the old Baron Anselm von Preussach, proprietor of an entailed estate in that quarter.

The eldest son, Hermann, had gone abroad about two years before, and for a considerable time past the family knew nothing as to his residence.

Every thing," continued Ferdinand von Preussach, " every thing indicates that the deceased is my brother Hermann. The family are deeply interested in the ascertainment of the truth. I am the next heir to the family estates; for my brother left but a single daughter, the fruit of his short marriage. I shall present my

self personally before the court, and afford every information which may tend to throw light on this melancholy event."

In January 1817, Ferdinand appeared in Hainburg. He read the documents which contained the result of the investigations which had taken place; and expressed his unhesitating conviction that the dead man was his brother Hermann. He applied to the court for an attestation of Hermann's death, which would open the succession to him on his father's death-an event which he regretted to think could not be far distant; - but he was given to understand that, however little doubt they might entertain as to his testimony, the evidence of a single witness, and that too the person most interested in establishing the death, would not justify the granting of an official certificate to that effect. He was advised to place his case in the hands of an advocate of the court, and as the readiest means of obtaining his end, in the event of any clue being found to the perpetrator of the deed, to appear in the criminal proceedings for his interest as private complainer.

Ferdinand accepted this advice, and chose for his counsel the advocate Senkenberg, a man of great ability and activity, whose local knowledge and numerous personal relations in the district peculiarly fitted him to advance the views of his client. The importance of the task assigned to him, and the rank of his employer, concurred to stimulate the zeal of the advocate.

Whether it was owing to chance, or that the exertions of one personally interested were more effective than the operations of the police, certain it is that, with the appearance of Ferdinand, light began to be thrown on several points, which, but for his activity, might either have remained undiscovered, or at least their bearing upon the case but imperfectly appreciated.

Ferdinand's first visit was to K, the last residence of his brother. After some hesitation, the effects belonging to the deceased were removed from the place where they had been sealed up, and exhibited to him. He examined with eagerness every paper that might help to throw light upon his brother's fate. Among others, a page of paper in the form of a letter came into his hands; the address was torn away, but the contents, which were in French, and written in a delicate hand, seemed important. We quote it as it stood, with its characteristic orthography.

"Je vous accorde cette entrevue pourvu qu'elle soye decisive. Vos mennaces ne pourrant jamais m'epouvanter, je saurais me defendre moryennaut les armes lesquelles me preteront l'honneur et la vertue. Voici ma derniere. La corespondance segrete ne peut se continuer.

Α.*"

"Bl. cc. 21 Juill. Preussach transmitted the document thus found to the Ober-Procurator, to whom he at the same time stated the view he entertained as to its connexion, with the subject of the investigation.

"The tribunal," he observed, "had hitherto gone on the idea of robbery. Such had never been his belief. Any circumstances that might seem to countenance such a notion were the result

of artificial contrivance to disguise the truth. The hand which dealt the blow, he was persuaded, was a woman's. Several passages in the precognitions alluded to a woman's having been seen in the neighbourhood of the chapel about the time in question; fragments of a shawl had been wrapped round the body; a woman's glove found in the neighbourhood; the handwriting of the letter of 21st July was decidedly that of a woman; it spoke of a decisive interview; the interview had taken place near the chapel, too decisive unfortunately for the deceased.

" I would not willingly cast suspicion on the innocent," he proceeded; " but I cannot disguise what no stranger can be so well acquainted with as myself. Sensual and unbridled passion was a prominent trait in the character of my otherwise estimable brother. This was the cause of separation after his short marriage; his excesses afterwards, when he was left without control, involved him in difficulties which had more than once threatened a tragic termination. In K-, report spoke of his connexion with an opera dancer, who had disappeared from thence nearly at the same time. The point as to the presence of a woman in the neighbourhood of the scene of action about the time of

*" I grant you never terrify me. tue will supply me.

the murder, ought to be more narrowly enquired into."

The Ober-Procurator was struck with the justice of some of these obser vations. The enquiry at which Ferdinand pointed was resumed, and the following additional particulars were the result. They related to the 24th of August, the day on the morning of which the deceased had left the forest inn, and which the witnesses were enabled to recollect, as being the birth. day of one of the reigning princesses, which had been celebrated by fêtes in the neighbouring villages.

A Swiss youth of twenty, but of weak intellect, who had occasion to ascend the path leading to the Raubstein for the purpose of cutting wood for the village bonfire, early in the forenoon, had seen a man and woman at some distance before him in the wood; the man in the dress of a Jäger, the woman in a particoloured gown with straw-hat and parasol. The particular colours he could not describe. They disappeared among the underwood. He caught sight of them only once more. They were then close to the Raubstein, behind one of the projections of which they were soon concealed.

The information given by the bathkeeper at Schlingin, a small village almost connecting with the outskirts of the watering-place of Hilgenberg, was more distinct and important. About noon a lady, finely dressed, tall and slender, with a pleasing countenance, but pale and worn out, with dark hair falling down in curls, entered their house, and begged the bath-keeper to dress a wound on the palm of the right hand, which she held covered with a handkerchief. The bath-keeper dressed and bound up the wound, which was broad but not deep, and apparently caused by a sharp instrument; and his wife, at the stranger's request, furnished her with a clean handkerchief. The lady placed a ducat in his hand, and hastily retired. At the garden-gate she was received by an old man in the garb of a woodman, in company with whom she took the path towards Hilgenberg.

A neighbour who, from behind the hedge of his garden, had witnessed