“Stuttgart is a happy hunting ground for those of my sort. It contains many ‘pietists,’—a sect made up of good and charitable souls who give freely. I remained there four weeks and did a wonderful business. I now figured in my papers as a compositor and on the strength of these documents even appeared before the Bavarian consul. I had collected a fine store of clothes and a lot of money when one day, toward the end of the fourth week of my stay, I was arrested in the Königstrasse by a man in civilian dress who told me to follow him. There was something in his looks which so impressed me that I dared not resist. I was condemned by the police actuary to fourteen days’ imprisonment and then to be banished from the town. I was taken to the Stuttgart prison where the governor received me with harsh words; he was a Swabian and the Swabians are ruder than any other Germans; in other respects I had nothing to complain of.
“Several of my colleagues were sitting or lying about in a large room where we were detained, and at first they did not notice me. At last an old boy, who had evidently been through many vicissitudes, addressed me, and after some conversation, promised to wake me next morning to communicate something of importance. At three o’clock he poked me gently in the side and then led me to a corner of the room; there he told me that he was interested in me and wished to contribute to my success in the future, and that though he knew I was a member of the guilds, still I did not understand what most appealed to the public. At the present time, the war being just over, soldiers played first fiddle. He possessed an iron cross and a genuine ‘legitimation’ as the owner of it. This would suit me excellently, as it came from a Bavarian. He was old and had no more use for it and would sell it to me for three thalers. I was overjoyed at this offer which promised me large receipts, and I gladly paid the old man the three thalers.
“On my release I resolved to try my luck at Baden-Baden. I began by purchasing a newly published illustrated description of the French war, which I studied carefully, and tried to form an idea of those regions where I intended to lay the scene of my deeds of heroism. I bought a list of the visitors at this fashionable resort and selected my victims. I decided to present myself in person to German families of position, but to foreigners of distinction I would appeal in writing. At the end of two days I had purchased all the outfit I required from a dealer of old clothes, and on the third day I started out fully equipped. I had strapped my left arm to my naked body; the empty sleeve was pinned to my coat; on my breast I proudly wore the iron cross; in the pocket of my blouse I carried my ‘legitimation,’ and I had given my small moustache a martial twist. I began with a German baron, into whose presence I was admitted and who looked at me approvingly. ‘Ah,’ he exclaimed, when he had read my papers, ‘one of our “Blue Devils;” you Bavarians must have given the French gentlemen a rare dressing.’ ‘We showed them,’ I replied, ‘that a Frenchman cannot wage war with Germans, Herr Baron.’ I then told him, in answer to his further inquiries, what regiment I had served in, etc., and that I had lost my arm at the storming of the Fort Ivry. He said he would gladly assist a brave soldier who had bled for his country, and gave me two gold pieces. This gift filled me with joy and confidence.
“At a country house where the family of a Prussian count were spending the summer, I was likewise admitted. The ladies were drinking their coffee on the veranda. ‘Look, mamma,’ exclaimed the daughter, ‘there comes a “knight of the iron cross,” like Papa. And the poor man has suffered the loss of an arm in battle.’ The young lady seemed to me rather over-enthusiastic, but that was all the better for my purpose, and I satisfied her curiosity with accounts of my prowess and deeds of daring and described how, when my heroism had resulted in my arm being shattered by a cannon ball during the storming of the village of Bazeilles, it had afterwards been sawed off in the hospital. I also told her in answer to her eager questions as to whether I was in want, that I had an aged mother to support and wished to buy a hand-organ. She gave me all the money in her cash box, and when I returned to my lodging I found a large parcel of clothes which she had directed a servant to leave for me. All my other visits were more or less profitable, and the foreign visitors whom I addressed by letter, two Russian princes, the Duchess of Hamilton and the Princess of Monaco, each sent me a handsome present in cash. Owing to the insufficiency of the police, I was able to carry on my frauds unmolested until I had almost exhausted the fashionable world at Baden-Baden. One morning whilst I was absent a police official called at my lodgings. Hearing of this on my return, I hastily packed my spoils and took train for Karlsruhe.
“The account of my criminal career would be incomplete without some mention of prisons. They play a larger part in the life of the budding convict than many people realise, and contribute materially to his development. While the state turns its chief attention to the larger gaols, the smaller prisons are often sadly neglected. If these were better administered, fewer large houses of correction would be required. Here the vagrants tarry, shaping their plans; here one thief learns from another various artifices and tricks; here young offenders are won over to the criminal life. The principal evils of these small prisons undoubtedly are the promiscuous congregating together of all offenders and the absence of occupation. It is not surprising, therefore, that the time is passed in idle talk, and that the man who can relate the largest number of rascally tricks he has played should be the hero of the company. Many an inexperienced lad listens to these anecdotes and acquires a taste for the life of a sharper. When to all this is added a brutal superintendent, open to bribery, then the prison becomes a real training school for criminals.
“Once in a prison at Baumholder I was locked up in company with a robber and murderer who had broken out of a Prussian gaol, and, on the road by which he was escaping, had killed a poor labourer for the sake of stealing his clothes and his small store of money. One evening this sinister individual sat brooding, his eyes glowing weirdly. Suddenly he said, ‘Hark you; when the warder comes round to-morrow he must be pulled in here; you shall hold him and I will cut his throat.’ I declined to be an accomplice in murder, and then he threatened me and looked at me so strangely that cold shivers ran down my back and I trembled like an aspen leaf. He saw my terror evidently and relented, for he offered me his brandy bottle and agreed to drop his murderous intentions if I would join with him in an attempt to escape that very night. This I was quite willing to do, but our essay came to nothing. We moved the stove and dug a hole in the floor beneath, but we presently came upon a beam with which we were not able to cope, and we were obliged to fill up the aperture with rags and bread and to move the stove back over it to escape detection.”
An account of a robbery perpetrated by Kürper on a larger scale, and its sequel, may be told in conclusion of this criminal’s career.
“On July 4th, in the year 1873, I was crossing the market place at Mannheim, when I met an old comrade of mine from the industrial school at Speier. We greeted each other warmly and exchanged our experiences, which ran in a similar groove only in that he had been more unfortunate than myself, having already served two rather long terms in prison. We decided to enter into a temporary partnership, and this was the beginning of the end. He had a theft in view promising rich spoils, for which he required an accomplice, and that part he wished me to perform. Nothing loth, I agreed, and we arranged a plan of campaign. He related to me that a well-to-do man he knew of lived on the first floor of a house which was surrounded by a high wall, and in an unfrequented street, and kept his possessions in a heavy leather trunk. He went out every evening from nine until twelve o’clock, so that during his absence the coast was clear. We were to convey the trunk to the castle garden, carry it over the bridge which crosses the Rhine, and at Ludwigshafen break it open, bury it and take its contents to K., where my ally knew how to dispose of them.
“I liked the idea of the job, and we agreed to go to work that same evening. Accordingly just before ten o’clock we started. On reaching the street in question my heart began to beat furiously and I felt a presentiment that ruin was at hand, but it was too late to turn back. My colleague assured himself that the owner of the trunk was away, according to his usual custom, and engaged in playing cards. The street was quiet, and we scaled the wall around the house and entered the room where the heavy box stood. We dragged it out and succeeded in carrying it to the castle garden over the bridge already alluded to, bearing our burden slowly and securely in this region where the police is well represented. We passed through Ludwigshafen and reached a field where there is a fish-pond.
“Here we opened the trunk, which we found packed full to bursting, emptied it and buried it so successfully that the police were afterward four weeks in finding it, in spite of accurate indications. That same night we marched, laden with our spoils, to Rheingönnheim, from whence we travelled to K., where in a few hours, thanks to my companion’s admirable business talents, we disposed of all we had to sell at remunerative prices. Drunk with victory, we could not rest satisfied and determined to attempt another coup de main. By broad daylight we proceeded to enter the room of a tradesman and rifle it of all its contents. We sold everything we had stolen except one waistcoat. This was the cause of our undoing. My comrade carried the garment in question, being half drunk, to a commissionaire in the open market-place. The police were already on our traces. Two members of the force came round the corner and immediately took us both in charge. We were now imprisoned, previous to being tried, and when subjected to a severe cross-examination, of course took refuge in subterfuge and lies. As we were parted, however, and separately interrogated, we soon made contradictory statements. My companion then decided to make a partial confession, but endeavoured at the same time to incriminate me as the ringleader in the affair. When I realised his infamy, I, on my part, did not hesitate to keep back the truth in regard to him. On December 24, 1873, we were taken, securely hand-cuffed, to the Court of the Assizes in Zweibrücken, where we were condemned to three years’ penal servitude. We entered a petition against this sentence, but it was thrown out. On February 5, 1874, the dark door of the gaol of Kaiserslautern closed upon me with a clanking sound.”