He Walked Around the Horses | Page 2

room, and, in the midst of them, the innkeeper, Christian Hauck,
in altercation with a stranger. This stranger was a gentlemanly-appearing person, dressed
in traveling clothes, who had under his arm a small leather dispatch case. As I entered, I
could hear him, speaking in German with a strong English accent, abusing the innkeeper,
the said Christian Hauck, and accusing him of having drugged his, the stranger's, wine,
and of having stolen his, the stranger's, coach-and-four, and of having abducted his, the
stranger's, secretary and servants. This the said Christian Hauck was loudly denying, and
the other people in the inn were taking the innkeeper's part, and mocking the stranger for
a madman.
On entering, I commanded everyone to be silent, in the king's name, and then, as he
appeared to be the complaining party of the dispute, I required the foreign gentleman to
state to me what was the trouble. He then repeated his accusations against the innkeeper,
Hauck, saying that Hauck, or, rather, another man who resembled Hauck and who had
claimed to be the innkeeper, had drugged his wine and stolen his coach and made off
with his secretary and his servants. At this point, the innkeeper and the bystanders all
began shouting denials and contradictions, so that I had to pound on a table with my
truncheon to command silence.
I then required the innkeeper, Christian Hauck, to answer the charges which the stranger
had made; this he did with a complete denial of all of them, saying that the stranger had
had no wine in his inn, and that he had not been inside the inn until a few minutes before,
when he had burst in shouting accusations, and that there had been no secretary, and no
valet, and no coachman, and no coach-and-four, at the inn, and that the gentleman was

raving mad. To all this, he called the people who were in the common room to witness.
I then required the stranger to account for himself. He said that his name was Benjamin
Bathurst, and that he was a British diplomat, returning to England from Vienna. To prove
this, he produced from his dispatch case sundry papers. One of these was a letter of
safe-conduct, issued by the Prussian Chancellery, in which he was named and described
as Benjamin Bathurst. The other papers were English, all bearing seals, and appearing to
be official documents.
Accordingly, I requested him to accompany me to the police station, and also the
innkeeper, and three men whom the innkeeper wanted to bring as witnesses.
Traugott Zeller Oberwachtmeister
Report approved,
Ernst Hartenstein Staatspolizeikapitan

(Statement of the self-so-called Benjamin Bathurst, taken at the police station at
Perleburg, 25 November, 1809.)
My name is Benjamin Bathurst, and I am Envoy Extraordinary and Minister
Plenipotentiary of the government of His Britannic Majesty to the court of His Majesty
Franz I, Emperor of Austria, or, at least, I was until the events following the Austrian
surrender made necessary my return to London. I left Vienna on the morning of Monday,
the 20th, to go to Hamburg to take ship home; I was traveling in my own coach-and-four,
with my secretary, Mr. Bertram Jardine, and my valet, William Small, both British
subjects, and a coachman, Josef Bidek, an Austrian subject, whom I had hired for the trip.
Because of the presence of French troops, whom I was anxious to avoid, I was forced to
make a detour west as far as Salzburg before turning north toward Magdeburg, where I
crossed the Elbe. I was unable to get a change of horses for my coach after leaving Gera,
until I reached Perleburg, where I stopped at the Sword & Scepter Inn.
Arriving there, I left my coach in the inn yard, and I and my secretary, Mr. Jardine, went
into the inn. A man, not this fellow here, but another rogue, with more beard and less
paunch, and more shabbily dressed, but as like him as though he were his brother,
represented himself as the innkeeper, and I dealt with him for a change of horses, and
ordered a bottle of wine for myself and my secretary, and also a pot of beer apiece for my
valet and the coachman, to be taken outside to them. Then Jardine and I sat down to our
wine, at a table in the common room, until the man who claimed to be the innkeeper
came back and told us that the fresh horses were harnessed to the coach and ready to go.
Then we went outside again.
I looked at the two horses on the off side, and then walked around in front of the team to
look at the two nigh-side horses, and as I did I felt giddy, as though I were about to fall,