The large sums thus shamelessly obtained by Thalreuter were thrown absolutely away. He entertained his acquaintances, mostly of the lowest classes,—peasants and domestic servants,—in the most sumptuous manner at different inns and taverns. Not only were the most costly wines poured out like water at the table, but they were cast into adjacent ponds and dashed against the carriage wheels; the most delicate viands were thrown out of the window for boys to scramble for; splendid fireworks were set off to amuse the guests, among whom he distributed all kinds of expensive presents with the greatest profusion. One witness even stated that on one occasion he moistened the wheels of the carriage he had hired with eau de Cologne. A toyman, Stang by name, who was the constant companion of Thalreuter and partaker of his extravagant pleasures, sold him, in one year, goods to the amount of 6,700 florins, among which was eau de Cologne worth 50 florins. Stang, on first witnessing the boy’s extravagance, thought it his duty to report it to Baroness von Stromwalter, but was told that the expenditure of her James would not appear surprising whenever the secret of his birth and rank should be revealed; that at present she could only say that he was the son of very great parents and would have more property than he could possibly spend. The poor toyman was, of course, overjoyed at the thought of having secured the friendship and custom of a prince in disguise, and no longer felt any hesitation in accepting Thalreuter’s presents and joining his parties, and from that time forward they became almost daily companions.

Thalreuter’s behaviour did not escape the notice of the authorities, but when they applied to his foster-parents, they were put off by the same mysterious hints of his noble birth. But fate at last fell heavily upon the young impostor. When called upon to pay a long-standing account for coach hire, Thalreuter produced a cheque purporting to be drawn by a certain Dr. Schroll. The signature was repudiated as a forgery, and the young man was arrested. The baroness still stood by him and was ready to answer for it until the scales fell from her eyes at the swindler’s astonishing confessions. Thalreuter now recounted at length the repeated deceits and frauds he had practised upon his foster-parents, the extent of which could hardly be estimated, but there was little doubt that he had extorted by his dishonest processes a sum between 6,000 and 8,000 florins. He implicated the unfortunate Stang in these nefarious actions, and other well-do-do and respectable persons. Many of the charges brought proved to be utterly false, and it appeared that this consummate young rogue had acted chiefly alone. It was clearly made out that he had had no assistance in effecting the ruin of the too credulous Stromwalters, and had relied upon his own wit and the extreme weakness and simplicity of the old people.

Thalreuter, in consideration of his youth, was sentenced to only eight years’ imprisonment at hard labour and a corporal punishment of twenty-five lashes on admission to prison. He only survived to complete two years of his sentence and died in 1828 at the bridewell in Munich.

Not many years after the coming and going of the false prince, Thalreuter, at Munich, another fictitious aristocrat flashed across the horizon of Berlin society, springing suddenly into notoriety and attracting universal attention. She was generally known as the “Golden Princess,” but no one knew certainly whom she was or whence she came. She appeared about 1835, when she adopted a sumptuous style of living which dazzled every one and made her the universal topic of conversation. She occupied a luxuriously furnished villa in the Thiergarten, kept a liveried man servant, a coachman, a cook, a maid and also a lady companion, and habitually drove about Berlin in a beautifully equipped carriage. She frequented the most expensive shops, where she made large purchases, to the intense satisfaction of the tradesmen, who considered the “Golden Princess” their best customer, particularly as she was quite above haggling and bargaining. She was generous to a fault; the poor besieged her door, and her deeds of charity were many. She often travelled, and her journeys to London and Brussels were much discussed; she visited German baths and would post to Carlsbad with four horses. From all these places she brought back splendid presents which she lavished upon her acquaintances, although they were not always cordially accepted, for her social position during the earlier part of her career by no means corresponded with her general magnificence. She did not frequent fashionable circles, nor did she receive much company at home.

A woman of this kind could not escape gossiping criticism. Many reports were current of her quality and antecedents. One story was that she was betrothed to a Brazilian, Count Villamor, who was supposed to have fallen in love with her abroad and was now providing the means for her to live in Berlin and to travel, so that she might fit herself for the high position of his wife. Others said that she was engaged to marry a Hamburg senator. German counts, and even princes, were also suggested as the future husbands of this interesting girl. The consensus of opinion, however, was in favour of the Brazilian, and her very ample means gave some colour to this assumption. She was an attractive woman, although not strikingly beautiful; she had good features and fascinating manners, and it was natural that this wealthy foreign count should fall in love with her. To call her an adventuress was unjustifiable.

This Henrietta Wilke, for such was her modest name, was no stranger in reality, nor was she of distinguished parentage. She was born of humble people who died when she was a child, and she had been befriended by some wealthy folk who gave her an education above her station, so that when, at their death, she was obliged to go into domestic service, she was treated more as a friend than a servant. She began as a nurse-maid and then became companion to an elderly maiden lady of Charlottenburg named Niemann, who played a large part in her subsequent history.

Henrietta Wilke had borne a good character as a respectable, unpretending girl, and there was no reason whatever to suspect her of frauds and malpractices for the purpose of acquiring wealth. The police could urge nothing against her, even if the sources of her wealth were obscure. She did not thrust herself into the society of well-to-do people to cheat and impose upon them. On the contrary, she consorted with a lower class and behaved with great propriety; her reputation was good; she paid her way honourably, was extremely charitable and never seemed ashamed of her poor relations. Still, there were those who smiled sarcastically and hinted that some strange truths would yet be disclosed about this enigmatic personage.

Among those who trusted her implicitly was the proprietor of a large furniture establishment in Berlin, Schroder by name, from whom she had made large purchases, always paying for them in cash. One day he made so bold as to ask her if she would lend him a few thousand thalers to increase his business, as she seemed to have a large capital at her command. She replied that she had not attained her majority—she was twenty-three years old, but the age of majority in Germany was twenty-four years. She would otherwise gladly give him the sum herself, she said, but in the meantime she promised to try to procure it from a friend of hers who had the control of her own fortune. The following day she informed Schroder that her old friend Fräulein Niemann, of Charlottenburg, was quite prepared to lend him 5,000 thalers at four per cent., on the security of his shop. The money, however, was invested in debentures, and it could not be released until the repayment of 500 thalers which had been borrowed on them. If Schroder would advance that sum, the whole business might be settled at once.

Schroder, after making inquiries and hearing nothing but satisfactory reports about Fräulein Niemann, went to Charlottenburg and, in the presence of Henrietta Wilke, gave her the 500 thalers to secure the 5,000 thalers which were to be shortly handed over. But on the following day Fräulein Wilke came to him again and said that the debentures could only be released by the payment of 1,000 thalers; to compensate him she offered to raise the loan to 8,000 thalers. Schroder, after some hesitation, agreed to pay the further 500 thalers; but he first sought further information as to Fräulein Niemann’s solvency, taking her promise in writing to lend him on June 28th, 1836, a capital of 8,000 thalers and to repay him his loan of 1,000 thalers.

Instead of the money, however, Henrietta Wilke came to him again and announced that Fräulein Niemann meant to make his fortune. She would lend him 20,000 thalers instead of 8,000 thalers, but to release so large an amount of debentures she required a further sum of 500 thalers. Schroder at first demurred, but, after paying the two ladies another visit, he relented. He paid the third 500 thalers and for this was to receive on February 10th the whole sum of twenty thousand thalers. The 10th of February passed, but the money was not forthcoming. Instead, a message came to say that 8,000 thalers at least should be paid on the following Monday. Fräulein Wilke appeared on the Monday without the money, indeed, but with the news that as her friend’s banker had not made the promised payment, she would borrow the sum from another friend. Schroder believed her, and his confidence was such that he gave her 100 thalers more, which she still required to draw out the necessary debentures. He received a receipt from Fräulein Niemann, and February 13th was fixed as the day of payment. But on the day when this agreement was made, Schroder heard that other persons had received from Fräulein Wilke some of the bank-notes he had given to her or Fräulein Niemann for the release of the debentures. Indeed, he learned that Fräulein Wilke had bought two horses with one of his 300 thaler notes.