Yes, there! in that open cart, surrounded by mounted police, and pressed
on all sides by a hurrying crowd. On either side of him sit the prison
officials; while in front, an energetic priest, with all the vehemence
and gesticulation of the wildest religious fervour, is evidently urging
him to repentance.

It is the law of Austria, that no criminal, however distinctly his crime
may have been proved by circumstantial evidence, can suffer death, till
he has himself confirmed the evidence by confession. But any artifice
can be lawfully employed to entrap him into an acknowledgment of his
guilt; therefore, although the sentence of the law may often be deferred,
it is rare indeed that its completion is averted. Fickte had of course
confessed. A flush was on his face; but there was no life or
intellectual spirit there.

Another battle with the crowd, and I stood in the rear of the gibbet.
After a weary interval, the scharfrichter--executioner--mounted, by means
of a ladder, to the cross beam of the gallows. By the action of a wheel
the culprit slowly rose into the air, but still unhurt. Three broad
leathern straps confined his arms; and perfectly motionless, held in a
perpendicular position by cordage fixed to the ground, and to the beam
above, he awaited his death. No cap covered his face. A looped cord
passing through another pulley, was placed under his chin, the cord
running along the cross-beam, and the end fixed to a wheel at the side of
the gibbet.

The culprit kissed the crucifix; a single turn of the wheel; a hoarse cry
of "Down with the umbrellas!" and his life had passed away; though no
cry, no struggle, announced its departure. The scharfrichter laid his
hand upon the heart of the criminal, then, assured of his death,
descended. And still, amid the incessant rain, with eager eyes bent upon
the dead, the crowd waited, gloating on the sight. According to the
sentence of the law, the corpse, with nothing to hide its discoloured and
distorted features, remained hanging till the setting of the sun.

Ashamed, wearied, and horrified, I hurried home; only halting on my way
to purchase the "Todesurtheil," or "Death-sentence," which was being
cried about the streets. This is an official document, and indeed the
only one with which the people of Vienna are gratified on such a subject.
Trials are not public, nor can they be reported; and although the whole
of the details invariably ooze out through the police, n