the
body was borne silently, without torches or lights, to the Protestant
cemetery, in which Kotzebue had been buried fourteen months previously.
A grave had been mysteriously dug; the coffin was lowered into it, and
those who were present at the burial were sworn upon the New Testament
not to reveal the spot where Sand was buried until such time as they
were freed from their oath. Then the grave was covered again with the
turf, that had been skilfully taken off, and that was relaid on the
same spat, so that no new grave could be perceived; then the nocturnal
gravediggers departed, leaving guards at the entrance.

There, twenty paces apart, Sand and Kotzebue rest: Kotzebue opposite the
gate in the most conspicuous spot of the cemetery, and beneath a tomb
upon which is engraved this inscription:

"The world persecuted him without pity, Calumny was his sad portion, He
found no happiness save in the arms of his wife, And no repose save in
the bosom of death. Envy dogged him to cover his path with thorns, Love
bade his roses blossom; May Heaven pardon him As he pardons earth!"

In contrast with this tall and showy monument, standing, as we have
said, in the most conspicuous spot of the cemetery, Sand's grave must be
looked far in the corner to the extreme left of the entrance gate; and
a wild plum tree, some leaves of which every passing traveller carries
away, rises alone upon the grave, which is devoid of any inscription.

As far the meadow in which Sand was executed, it is still called by the
people "Sand's Himmelsfartsweise," which signifies "The manner of Sand's
ascension."

Toward the end of September, 1838, we were at Mannheim, where I had
stayed three days in order to collect all the details I could find about
the life and death of Karl-Ludwig Sand. But at the end of these three
days, in spite of my active investigations, these details still remained
extremely incomplete, either because I applied in the wrong quarters, or
because, being a foreigner, I inspired same distrust in those to whom I
applied. I was leaving Mannheim, therefore, somewhat disappointed,
and after having visited the little Protestant cemetery where Sand and
Kotzebue are buried at twenty paces from each other, I had ordered my
driver to take the road to Heidelberg, when, after going a few yards,
he, who knew the object of my inquiries, stopped of himself and asked me
whether I should not like to see the place where Sand was executed. At
the