Hauser, KASPAR, a German youth, whose history, enshrined in many elements of mystery, excited the attention of all Europe and especially of Germany. On the afternoon of 26th May 1828 a citizen of Nuremberg observed a youth, apparently about sixteen or seventeen years of age, dressed as a peasant, leaning against a wall in the market-place, and evidently in distress. But he was unable to give any account of himself; he could only utter, parrot-like, a few incoherent words, to the effect that he wanted to be a cavalry soldier. In his hand he bore a letter addressed to an officer in the town. The letter purported to be written by an illiterate workman, who said that the boy had been deposited at his door an infant by some one unknown, and that he had brought him up, but in strict seclusion. Enclosed in the letter was another, pretending to have been penned by the mother of the youth, but written by the same hand and at the same time, stating that she, a poor girl, had given birth to a babe on 30th April 1812, that his name was Kaspar, and that his father, then dead, had been a soldier. The youth's mind was totally blank, not from idiocy, but because he had had no education whatever, and he was utterly ignorant of the commonest experiences of everyday life. His behaviour was that of a little child. He loathed all food except bread and water. The sounds, sights, and odours of the common world about him all caused him great pain. His senses were altogether unused to them, or rather they were such only as would be found in one who had lived without using them, or had lived as he had done in a state of complete darkness and complete solitude.
Some time afterwards, when his senses and his mind began to be schooled, he was able to give the following account of his former existence. As long as he could remember he had been in a hole or cage, too small for him to rest in any other posture than seated on the ground with his legs stretched straight out before him. His only clothing had been a pair of trousers and a shirt. He had never seen the sun nor heard sound of the outer world. Food—bread and water—was always supplied to him whilst he slept, and sometimes he was made to sleep by 'nasty stuff' (laudanum) put in the water. He had spent his time playing with two toy horses. He was attended to by 'a man,' who at last taught him to write a little, and to stand and to walk; and finally 'the man' had put shoes on his feet and had brought him to Nuremberg by night, and, placing the letter in his hand, had disappeared. The town authorities eventually decided to adopt this strange and forlorn being thus mysteriously brought to them. But about fifteen months later, on 17th October 1829, he was found bleeding from a wound in the forehead, which, he said, had been inflicted by 'the man.' But this individual could not be found, nor even any trace of him. Meanwhile attempts were being made to educate the untutored youth, and to civilise him. At first he showed a keen thirst for knowledge, marvellous powers of memory, and wonderful quickness in apprehension; but as his body began to grow rapidly, his mind, which had apparently been early checked in its growth, soon reached the full measure of its expansion and development. Crowds of the curious had at first flocked to see the strange boy, and visitors to the city still came to visit him. Amongst these was the eccentric Lord Stanhope, who conceived a sudden fancy for Kaspar and adopted him, sending him to Ansbach to be educated. But, as his mental development had suffered an arrest, so now his moral character began to deteriorate; and he was being gradually forgotten, when on 14th December 1833 he suddenly burst into the house, bleeding from a wound in his side, which he said had been dealt him by 'the man,' who on this occasion too could not be discovered. Three days later Kaspar Hauser died. Beyond these facts nothing more is known about him. Owing to the many inconsistencies in his story and the mystery surrounding him, many have regarded him as an artful impostor, and believe that he died an involuntary suicide. Others, again, looked upon him as the victim of a hideous crime, and believed that he was of noble birth, some indeed (since 1834) making him out to have been heir to the throne of Baden. But in 1875 the government of Baden disproved the imputation by documentary evidence. See Eliz. G. Evans's monograph (1892).