appearance and behavior was,
that he was some idiot or lunatic escaped from confinement; it remained
only to be shown whence he had escaped. In the mean time he was placed
under the protection of the police, who removed him to their guard-room.
There he showed no consciousness of what was going on around him; his
look was a dull, brutish stare; nor did he give any indication of
intelligence, until pen and paper were placed in his hand, when he wrote
clearly and repeatedly, "Kaspar Hauser." Since then he has been known by
that name.

When it became evident that the first conjectures concerning him were
wrong, strenuous efforts were made by the police to sound the mystery,
but without the slightest success. He himself could give no clue; for he
neither understood what others said nor could make himself understood.
With the exception of some six words, the sounds Caspar uttered were
entirely meaningless. He recognized none of the places where he had
been, no trace could be obtained of him elsewhere, and the most vigilant
search brought nothing to light. The surprise which his first appearance
produced increased as he became better known. It then became more and
more evident that he was neither an idiot nor a lunatic; at the same
time his manners were so peculiar, and his ignorance of civilized life
and his dislike for its customs so great, that all sorts of conjectures
were resorted to in order to explain the mystery.

It was ascertained that he must have been incarcerated in some dungeon,
entirely shut out from the light of the sun, which gave him great pain.
The structure of his body, the tenderness of his feet, and the great
difficulty and suffering which he experienced in walking, indicated
beyond a doubt that he had been kept in a sitting posture, with his legs
stretched straight out before him. His sustenance had been bread and
water; for he not only evinced great repugnance to any other food, but
the smallest quantity affected his constitution in the most violent
manner. It was also evident that he had never come in contact with human
beings, beyond what was necessary for supplying his immediate wants,
and, strange to say, teaching him to write.

That these inferences were well-founded was proved by the subsequent
disclosures of Caspar himself, after he had acquired a sufficient
command of language. The account he then gave was as follows.

"He neither knows who he is nor where his home is. It was only at
Nuremb