The account is taken from the German book “The Seeress of Prevorst” by Dr Justinus Kerner, translated by Mrs “Nightside of Nature” Crowe in 1845.
https://archive.org/details/seeressofprevors00kern/page/274/mode/2up?q=kern
Councillor Hahn of Ingelfingen, wrote down this account in the Castle of Slawensick, in Silesia – which has since been destroyed by lightning – in the year 1808, being himself an eye-witness to the facts; and he communicated them to me in the year 1828: –
After the campaign of the Prussians against the French in 1806, the reigning Prince of Hohenlohe gave orders to Councillor Hahn, who was in his service, to proceed to Slawensick, and there to await his return. His Serene Highness advanced from Liegnitz towards his principality, and Hahn also commenced his journey, towards Upper Silesia, on the 19th November.
At the same period, Charles Kern, of Kunzelsau, who had fallen into the hands of the French, being released on parole, and arriving at Liegnitz in a helpless condition, he was allowed to spend some time with Hahn, whilst awaiting his exchange. Hahn and Kern had been friends in their youth, and their destinies having brought them both at this time into the Prussian States, they were lodged together in the same apartment of the castle, which was one on the first floor, forming an angle at the back of the building, one side looking towards the north, and the other to the east.
On the right of the door of this room was a glass-door, which led into a chamber divided from those which followed by a wainscot partition. The door in this wainscot, which communicated to these adjoining rooms, was entirely closed up, because in them all sorts of household utensils were kept. Neither in this chamber, nor in the sitting-room which preceded it, was there any opening whatever which could furnish the means of communication from without; nor was there anybody in the castle besides the two friends, except the Prince’s two coachmen, and Hahn’s servant. The whole party were fearless people; and, as for Hahn and Kern, they believed in nothing less than ghosts or witches, nor had any previous experience induced them to turn their thoughts in that direction.
Hahn, during his collegiate life, had been much given to philosophy – had listened to Fichte, and earnestly studied the writings of Kant. The result of his reflections was a pure materialism; and he looked upon created man, not as an aim, but merely as a means to a yet undeveloped end. These opinions he has since changed, like many others who think very differently in their 40th year to what they did in their 20th. The particulars here given are necessary, in order to obtain credence for the following extraordinary narrative; and to establish the fact, that the phenomena were not merely accepted by ignorant superstition, but coolly and courageously investigated by enlightened minds.
During the first days of their residence in the castle, the two friends, living together in solitude, amused their long evenings with the works of Schiller, of whom they were both great admirers; and Hahn usually read aloud. Three days had thus passed quietly away, when, as they were sitting at the table, which stood in the middle of the room, about nine o’clock in the evening, their reading was interrupted by a small shower of lime, which fell around them. They looked at the ceiling, concluding it must have come thence, but could perceive no abraded parts; and, whilst they were yet seeking to ascertain whence the lime had proceeded, there suddenly fell several larger pieces, which were quite cold, and appeared as if they had belonged to the external wall.
At length, concluding the lime must have fallen from some part of the wall, and giving up farther inquiry, they went to bed, and slept quietly till morning, when, on awakening, they were somewhat surprised at the quantity which strewed the floor, more especially as they could still discover no part of the walls or ceiling from which it could have fallen. But they thought no more of the matter till evening, when, instead of the lime falling, as before, it was thrown, and several pieces struck Hahn; at the same time, they heard heavy blows, sometimes below, and sometimes over their heads, like the sound of distant guns; still, attributing these sounds to natural causes, they went to bed as usual; but the uproar prevented their sleeping, and each accused the other of occasioning it by kicking with his feet against the foot-board of his bed; till, finding that the noise continued when they both got out and stood together in the middle of the room, they were satisfied that this was not the case.
On the following evening, a third noise was added, which resembled the faint and distant beating of a drum. Upon this, they requested the governess of the castle to send them the key of the apartments above and below, which was brought them by her son; and, whilst he and Kern went to make their investigations, Hahn remained in their own room. Above, they found an empty room, below, a kitchen. They knocked, but the noise they made was very different to that which Hahn continued all the while to hear around him. When they returned, Hahn said, jestingly, ‘The place is haunted!’
On this night, when they went to bed with a light burning, they heard what seemed like a person walking about the room with slippers on, and a stick, with which he struck the floor as he moved step by step. Hahn continued to jest, and Kern to laugh, at the oddness of these circumstances for some time, when they both, as usual, fell asleep, neither in the slightest degree disturbed by these events, nor inclined to attribute them to any supernatural cause. But, on the following evening, the affair became more inexplicable: various articles in the room were thrown about; knives, forks, brushes, caps, slippers, padlocks, funnel, snuffers, soap – every thing, in short, that was moveable; whilst lights darted from corner to corner, and every thing was in confusion; at the same time the lime fell, and the blows continued. Upon this, the two friends called up the servants, Knittel, the castle watch, and whoever else was at hand, to be witnesses of these mysterious operations.
In the morning, all was quiet, and generally continued so till about an hour after midnight. One evening, Kern going into the above-mentioned chamber to fetch something, and hearing such an uproar that it almost drove him backwards to the door, Hahn caught up the light, and both rushed into the room, where they found a large piece of wood lying close to the wainscot. But, supposing this to be the cause of the noise, who had set it in motion? for Kern was sure the door was shut, even whilst the noise was making; neither had there been any wood in the room. Frequently, before their eyes, the knives and snuffers rose from the table, and fell, after some minutes, to the ground; and Hahn’s large shears were once lifted in this manner between him and one of the Prince’s cooks, and, falling to the ground, stuck into the floor.
As some nights, however, passed quite quietly, Hahn was determined not to leave the rooms; but when, for three weeks, the disturbance was so constant that they could get no rest, they resolved on removing their beds into the large room above, in hopes of once more enjoying a little quiet sleep. Their hopes were vain – the thumping continued as before; and not only so, but articles flew about the room which they were quite sure they had left below. ‘They may fling as they will,’ cried Hahn, ‘sleep I must;’ whilst Kern began to undress, pondering on these matters as he walked up and down the room. Suddenly Hahn saw him stand, as if tranfixed, before the looking-glass, on which he had accidentally cast his eyes. He had so stood for some minutes, when he was seized with a violent trembling, and turned from the mirror with his face as white as death. Hahn, fancying the cold of the uninhabited room had seized him, hastened to throw a cloak over him; when Kern, who was naturally very courageous, recovered himself, and related, though with trembling lips, that, as he had accidentally looked in the glass, he had seen a white female figure looking out of it; she was in front of his own image, which he distinctly saw behind her. At first, he could not believe his eyes; he thought it must be fancy, and for that reason he had stood so long; but when he saw that the eyes of the figure moved, and looked into his, a shudder had seized him, and he had turned away.
Hahn, upon this, advanced with firm steps to the front of the mirror, and called upon the apparition to shew itself to him; but he saw nothing, although he remained a quarter of an hour before the glass, and frequently repeated his exhortation. Kern then further related, that the features of the apparition were very old, but not gloomy or morose; the expression, indeed, was rather that of indifference; but the face was very pale, and the head was wrapt in a cloth which left only the features visible. By this time, it was four o’clock in the morning – sleep was banished from their eyes – and they resolved to return to the lower room, and have their beds brought back again; but the people who were sent to fetch them returned, declaring they could not open the door, although it did not appear to be fastened. They were sent back again; but a second, and a third time they returned, with the same answer. Then Hahn went himself, and opened it with the greatest ease. The four servants, however, solemnly declared, that all their united strengths could make no impression on it.
In this way a month had elapsed: the strange events at the castle had got spread abroad; and, amongst others who desired to convince themselves of the facts, were two Bavarian officers of dragoons – namely, Captain Cornet and Lietenant Magerle, of the regiment of Minuci. Magerle offering to remain in the room alone, the others left him; but scarcely had they passed into the next apartment, when they heard Magerle storming like a man in a passion, and cutting away at the tables and chairs with his sabre; whereupon the Captain thought it advisable to return, in order to rescue the furniture from his rage. They found the door shut, but he opened it on their summons; and related, in great excitement, that as soon as they had quitted the room, some cursed thing had begun to fling lime, and other matters at him; and having examined every part of the room, without being able to discover the agent of the mischief, he had fallen into a rage, and cut madly about him.
The party now passed the rest of the evening together in the room; and the two Bavarians closely watched Hahn and Kern, in order to satisfy themselves that the mystery was no trick of theirs. All at once, as they were quietly sitting at the table, the snuffers rose into the air, and fell again to the ground, behind Magerle; and a leaden ball flew at Hahn, and hit him upon the breast; and presently afterwards, they heard a noise at the glass-door, as if somebody had struck his fist through it, together with a sound of falling glass. On investigation, they found the door entire, but a broken drinking-glass on the floor. By this time the Bavarians were convinced, and they retired from the room, to seek repose in one more peaceful [sic].
Amongst other strange circumstances, the following, which occurred to Hahn, is remarkable. One evening, about eight o’clock, being about to shave himself, the implements for the purpose, which were lying on a pyramidal stand in a corner of the room, flew at him, one after the other – the soap-box, the razor, the brush, and the soap – and fell at his feet, although he was standing several paces from the pyramid. He and Kern, who was sitting at the table, laughed; for they were now so accustomed to these events, that they only made them subjects of diversion. In the meantime, Hahn poured some water, which had been standing on the stove, in a basin, observing, as he dipped his finger into it, that it was of a nice heat for shaving. He seated himself before the table, and strapped his razor; but when he attempted to prepare the lather, the water had clean vanished out of the basin.
Another time, Hahn was awakened by the goblins throwing at him a squeezed-up piece of sheet-lead, in which tobacco had been wrapped; and, when he stooped to pick it up, the self-same piece was flung at him again. When this was repeated a third time, Hahn flung a heavy stick at his invisible assailant.
Dorfel, the book-keeper, was frequently a witness to these strange events. He once laid his cap on the table by the stove; when, being about to depart, he sought for it, it had vanished. Four or five times he examined the table in vain; presently afterwards, he saw it lying exactly where he had placed it when he came in. On the same table, Knittel having once placed his cap, and drawn himself a seat, suddenly – although there was nobody near the table – he saw it flying through the room to his feet, where it fell.
Hahn now determined to find out the secret himself, and for this purpose, seated himself, with two lights before him, in a position where he could see the whole of the room, and all the windows and doors it contained; but the same things occurred even when Kern was out, the servants in the stables, and nobody in the castle but himself; and the snuffers were as usual flung about, although the closest observation could not detect by whom.
The forest-master, Radezensky, slept a night in the room; but although the two friends slept, he could get no rest. He was bombarded without intermission, and in the morning, his bed was found full of all manner of household articles.
One evening, in spite of all the drumming and flinging, Hahn was determined to sleep; but a heavy blow on the wall, close to his bed, soon waked him from his slumbers. A second time he went to sleep, and was awaked by a sensation, as if some person had dipped his finger in water, and was sprinkling his face with it. He pretended to sleep again, whilst he watched Kern and Knittel, who were sitting at the table; the sensation of sprinkling recurred, but he could find no water on his face.
About this time, Hahn had occasion to make a journey as far as Breslau; and when he returned, he heard the strangest story of all. In order not to be alone in this mysterious chamber, Kern had engaged Hahn’s servant – a man of about forty years of age, and of entire singleness of character – to stay with him. One night, as Kern lay in bed, and this man was standing near the glass-door in conversation with him, to his utter amazement, he behld a jug of beer, which stood on a table in the room at some distance from him, slowly lifted to a height of about three feet, and the contents poured into a glass, that was standing there also, until the latter was half-full. The jug was then gently replaced, and the glass lifted and emptied, as by some one drinking; whilst John, the servant, exclaimed, in terrified surprise, ‘Lord Jesus! it swallows.’ The glass was quietly replaced, and not a drop of beer was to be found on the floor. Hahn was about to require an oath of John, in confirmation of this fact; but forbore, seeing how ready the man was to take one, and satisfied of the truth of the relation.
One night Knetsch, an inspector of the works, passed the night with the two friends; and, in spite of the unintermitting flinging, they all three went to bed. There were lights in the room; and presently, all three saw two napkins, in the middle of the room, rise slowly up to the ceiling, and having there spread themselves out, flutter down again. The china bowl of a pipe, belonging to Kern, flew about, and was broken. Knives and forks were flung; and at last one of the latter fell on Hahn’s head, though fortunately with the handle downwards; and, having now endured this annoyance for two months, it was unanimously resolved to abandon this mysterious chamber, for this night at all events.
John and Kern took up one of the beds, and carried it into the opposite room; but they were no sooner gone, than a pitcher for holding chalybeate-water flew to the feet of the two who remained behind, although no door was open, and a brass candlestick was flung to the ground. In the opposite room the night passed quietly, although some sounds still issued from the forsaken chamber.
After this, there was a cessation to these strange proceedings, and nothing more remarkable occurred, with the exception of the following circumstance: – Some weeks after the above-mentioned removal, as Hahn was returning home, and crossing the bridge that leads to the castle gate, he heard the foot of a dog behind him. He looked round, and called repeatedly on the name of a greyhound that was much attached to him, thinking it might be her; but although he still heard the foot, even when he ascended the stairs, as he could see nothing, he concluded it was an illusion. Scarcely, however, had he set his foot within the room, than Kern advanced and took the door out of his hand, at the same time, calling the dog by name; adding, however, immediately, that he thought he had seen the dog, but that he had no sooner called her than she disappeared.
Hahn then inquired, if he had really seen the dog. ‘Certainly I did,’ replied Kern; ‘she was close behind you – half within the door – and that was the reason I took it out of your hand, lest, not observing her, youshould have shut it suddenly, and crushed her. It was a white dog, and I took it for Flora.’ Search was immediately made for the dog, but she was found locked up in the stable, and had not been out of it the whole day. It is certainly remarkable – even supposing Hahn to have been deceived with respect to the footsteps – that Kern should have seen a white dog behind him, before he had heard a word on the subject from his friend, especially as there was no such animal in the neighbourhood; besides, it was not yet dark, and Kern was very sharp-sighted.
Hahn remained in the castle for half a year after this, without experiencing any thing extraordinary; and even persons who had possession of the mysterious chambers, were not subjected to any annoyance. The riddle, however, in spite of all the perquisitions and investigations that were set on foot, remained unsolved – no explanation of these strange events could be found; and even supposing any motive could exist, there was nobody in the neighbourhood clever enough to have carried on such a system of persecution, which lasted so long, that the inhabitants of the chamber became almost indifferent to it.”
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In conclusion, it is only necessary to add, that Councillor Hahn wrote down this account for his own satisfaction, with the strictest regard to truth. His words are –
“I have described these events exactly as I heard and saw them; from beginning to end, I observed them with the most entire self-possession. I had no fear, nor the slightest tendency to it; yet the whole thing remains to me perfectly inexplicable. Written the 19th November 1808. Augustus Hahn, Councillor.”
Doubtless, many natural explanations of these phenomena will be suggested, by those who consider themselves above the weakness of crediting stories of this description. Some say that Kern was a dextrous juggler, who contrived to throw dust in the eyes of his friend Hahn; whilst others affirm, that both Hahn and Kern were intoxicated every evening. I did not fail to communicate these objections to Hahn, and here insert his answer.
“After the events alluded to, I resided with Kern for a quarter of a year, in another part of the castle of Slaawensick, (which has been since struck by lightning, and burnt,) without finding a solution of the mystery, or experiencing a repetition of the annoyance, which discontinued from the moment we quitted those particular apartments. Those persons must suppose me very weak, who can imagine it possible, that with only one companion, I could have been the subject of his sport for two months, without detecting him. As for Kern himself, he was, from the first, very anxious to leave the rooms; but as I was unwilling to resign the hope of discovering some natural cause for these phenomena, I persisted in remaining; and the thing that at last induced me to yield to his wishes, was his vexation at the loss of his china pipe, which had been flung against the wall and broken. Besides, jugglery requires a juggler, and I was frequently quite alone when these events occurred.
It is equally absurd to accuse us of intoxication. The wine there was too dear, for us to drink it at all; and we confined ourselves wholly to weak beer. All the circumstances that happened are not set down in the narration; but my recollection of the whole is as vivid as if it had occurred yesterday. We had also many witnesses, some of whom have been mentioned. Councillor Klenk also visited me at a later period, with every desire to investigate the mystery; and when, one morning, he had mounted on a table, for the purpose of doing so, and was knocking at the ceiling with a stick, a powder-horn fell upon him, which he had just before left on the table in another room. At that time, Kern had been for some time absent.
“I neglected no possible means, that could have led to a discovery of the secret; and at least as many people have blamed me, for my unwillingness to believe in a supernatural cause, as the reverse. Fear is not my failing, as all who are acquainted with me know; and, to avoid the possibility of error, I frequently asked others what they saw, when I was myself present; and their answers always coincided with what I saw myself.
From 1809 to 1811, I lived in Jacobswald, very near the castle, where the prince himself was residing. I am aware that some singular circumstances occurred whilst he was there; but, as I did not witness them myself, I cannot speak of them more particularly.
I am still as unable as ever to account for those events; and I am content to submit to the hasty remarks of the world, knowing that i have only related the truth, and what many persons now alive witnessed, as well as myself.
Councillor Hahn. Ingelfingen, 24th August 1828.”
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My thought processes for locating the castle:
I feel this must be the right kind of location, because Koszęcin
is in Upper Silesia. German for Koszęcin is Koschentin, and the account
mentions ‘the inspector Knetsch of Koschentin’ who visited… you’d
imagine he’d be quite local. But I cannot find any mention of
Slawensick. That must have been some lightning. The Prince of Hohenlohe
in 1806 was Karl Ludvig, and he got married (and lived??) at Kliczków Castle, in Silesia. But that’s 200 miles from Koszęcin. And that castle is still there.
“Jacobswald,
very near the castle” is mentioned towards the end. I saw on Google
that Jakobswald forest in Silesia was where the Blechhammer Nazi
concentration camp was, and Blechhammer is now known as Blachownia
Śląska (East Upper Silenia, now Poland). Which is 35 miles from Koszęcin. So I think somewhere around here would be most likely.
I have found it.
https://polska–org-pl.translate.goog/503492,Zamek_ktorego_nie_ma_Slawiecice.html?_x_tr_sl=pl&_x_tr_tl=en&_x_tr_hl=en&_x_tr_pto=sc
The address is Sławięcicka 91A, 47-230 Kędzierzyn-Koźle, Poland. This is only 2 miles from Blechhammer / Blachownia Slaska.
Sławięcice
palace was “built in the 18th century, burnt down after being struck by
lightning” and was rebuilt by Prince August (Prince Hohenlohe) – though
that one doesn’t survive either.