Chapter 4

would be irrelevant. Münchmeyer was dead. It would all just depend on who would have to testify under oath. And they would know how to make sure that May would not get this opportunity. His prior convictions would be the best help there could be for this. He would only have to be threatened with their publication, then he would surely give up every lawsuit. Two lines written to him are enough, and he will be quiet. "Him, we've got in our hands!"

[a] Intervener: A third party in a civil trial aside from the plaintiff and the defendant. German law further distinguishes between a "Hauptintervenient" and a "Nebenintervenient" . (I do not know, whether there are any more proper legal terms for this in English.) A "main intervener" sues both parties and thus starts a new trial. A "co-intervener" joins an existing trial to defend his or her own interests, without joining either one of the two main parties.

In this manner, they had talked to Fischer, and this persuaded him to buy the business. Of this, he assured me. That my novels had been altered, he knew. He only did not know precisely by whom. Probably by Walter. After all, he had nothing else to do than these kinds of things, and he also had to read the proof sheets. And this was not a difficult task at all and could be done very quickly. Only one word would have to be changed or a few words would have to be added, and already the "indecency" is there, without which such novels are quite inconceivable. I would be able to prove these changes quite easily; I would only have to present my original manuscripts.

"But they have been burnt!" I interjected.

But Fischer denied this quite decisively. He insisted that they were still there. He could get them for me, though, of course, he would not do so under the present conditions, with me being his opponent in a lawsuit and ruining him with my injunction. He could only help me and testify in my favour, if I would drop this injunction and settle with him.

This conversation was infinitely important to me. I had to be careful. I wondered, whether I could trust him. If the original manuscripts were really still there, I would indeed been able to silence all accusations against me, as Fischer had said, with a single stroke. But he might have intended to deceive me, or he might have been deceived himself. I was not allowed to decide too hastily; I had to observe and to think, especially since this turn of events in my affairs occurred at a time in which severe internal struggles kept me thus busy that I was unable to find either time or space for other things. This was the time of my divorce.

To be honest, I very much tend towards the Catholic view of marriage, regarding it as a sacrament. If I would not be of this opinion, I would have taken this step much sooner and not only when my health, my life, and my entire internal and external existence was at stake. This step has been held against me to a high degree, and very unjustly so. Catholic critics, who, instead of staying on a factual basis, let their attacks wander over into the personal, have accused me in the same breath of being a Protestant and of having divorced my wife. How unlogical! It is because I am regarded as a Protestant that nobody has the right to hold that second fact against me. To every even just mildly decent person, a divorce is a matter which is most naturally treated with discretion. But mine was dragged through the newspapers, supplemented with the most disgusting marginal glosses, and abused for the most outrageous speculations. I want to skip all of this here, to remark on this, if I should be forced to do so, in another place. This time was not just for me, but also for Mrs. Plöhn, a time of almost deadly afflictions, because it deprived her of her husband, whom she loved with a self-sacrifice, as rarely a man was ever loved. I have already said that Plöhn had become ill on the journey to Egypt. He only seemed to recover. The malady was repeated, after he had returned home. One year later, death came. Mrs. Plöhn almost collapsed. If it had not been for her mother, she would have surely died, following her husband. Fortunately, the correspondence she conducted for me with my readers also offered her the spiritual relief and support she required. She owned two rented houses in Dresden, which she would have liked to sell, to be able to buy a piece of land in the country, belonging to the village Niedersedlitz, which had been offered to her. Fischer had moved his printing-plant there. His private apartment was also there. Mrs. Plöhn asked me to accompany her on a visit of this lot, and once we happened to be in Niedersedlitz, the idea came most naturally to let Fischer know about it. He invited us to his private apartment, and there a negotiation evolved which led to a settlement the day after.

I want to make it as brief as possible. Fischer complained that, in buying the Münchmeyer business, he had degraded himself to the level of a "trashy publisher"; he assured us that he was yearning to get out of this, and he insisted that I could assist him in this like nobody else. Of the latter, I was also convinced. He had purchased the altered novels, without Mrs. Münchmeyer having the right to sell them to him. If he made sure that my original manuscripts were returned to me, he could drop the trashy stuff and publish my originals in their place; this would help him and me as well; he would no longer be a trashy publisher, and I would be able to prove that I had not written anything indecent. This was the basic idea of the settlement, and when we signed it, I was convinced that all disputes were resolved. At this time, Fischer attested to me publicly in the newspapers that the indecent passages of my Münchmeyer novels _were_not_the_product_of_my_pen,_ _but_rather_had_been_put_in_by_a_third_party._

But unfortunately, my hopes turned out to be deceptive. Fischer was unable to get my original manuscripts; they did not exist any more; they had really been destroyed. So, it had been impossible for him to transform from a "trashy publisher", as he described himself in a letter to me, into a book publisher. He did make the attempt, though, to obtain an original novel even without my original manuscripts, in order to be able to drop the trash then, but I had to deny him the help, he demanded from me in this. What he demanded from me was to change the trash back into its former, impeccable version just based on my memory; but this was, considering the huge amount of about thirty thousand pages, tightly filled with text, an absolute impossibility. But he insisted on his contract, on our settlement, and though he was unable to do as he had promised, I was still supposed to do everything, which was, even if for no other reason than him, impossible. From this resulted a new disagreement and a new struggle, which extended beyond his death and was only by his heirs brought to a peaceful conclusion. They saw things clearer than he did, and they were of calm, unbiased minds. They were experts, which is to say: lawyers, merchants, owners of printing-plants and bookbinderies. They agreed on the following declaration:

| "In a lawsuit between Mr. Karl May and the heirs of Mr. | | Adalbert Fischer, the heirs of Mr. Fischer have declared that | | the novels by the author Karl May, published by the company | | of H.G. Münchmeyer, have in the course of time been altered | | by means of additions and variations by a third party to such | | an extent that in their present form, they can no longer be | | regarded as Karl May's creation. Mr. May has been authorised | | to publish this declaration. |

| "Dresden, October 1907." |

This declaration is signed by the widow Mrs. Elisabeth Fischer, the merchant Arthur Schubert, the owner of a printing-plant Otto Fischer, the owner of a bookbindery Alfred Sperling, the lawyer Trummler, the lawyer Bernstein, the lawyer Dr. Elb. Irresponsible people have pretended that this declaration had only been made by children and mentally incompetent persons. From this, you can also see with what kinds of weapons I am being attacked. But for me, the section of my Münchmeyer trial dealing with Fischer has been closed by this. But the section dealing with Pauline Münchmeyer still exists. I now have to turn to her in the following.

I even dare to start this section with the plan I found out from Fischer, which was:

| "May has been to prison. He has to keep this a secret. We | | have him in our hands. Two lines are enough, and he will be | | quiet. If he sues us, we will destroy him by publishing his | | prior convictions in all newspapers throughout Germany. What | | May has agreed upon with Münchmeyer is irrelevant. What | | matters is, who will get the opportunity to testify under | | oath. And we will know how to make sure that May will not | | get this opportunity." |

By no means, Fischer has only talked about this plan in private, but he also testified about this, putting it on record, and it had been incessantly confirmed in the course of the legal dispute, which now already lasts for nine years. I do not want to talk here about those things which the lawyer Dr. Gerlach, in the name of his client Pauline Münchmeyer, has asserted and denied contrary to the truth. But he has portrayed me right from the start as a person who is to the highest degree unqualified for taking the oath. I simply cannot list all those offensive swear-words here he has showered me with for as long as the last nine years and continues to do so without me being able to have him punished for this, because, as a lawyer, he is protected by the very same article of the law which forces me to put up with liberties from him which no other person would ever take. Being repeatedly admonished by the judges and asked to answer for himself by other lawyers, he nevertheless remains faithful to this speciality of his. To carry out the Münchmeyers' plan, it was first of all necessary to obtain my criminal records. For this purpose an unfounded complaint for gross insult was issued, which was instantly retracted as soon as the purpose had been reached. From that time on, more or less allusive notes appeared in the newspapers about my past. "I know even more!" one of them wrote; "You would know what I mean, wouldn't you, Mr. May?" another one asked. The "destruction" began. But the spiritus rector, the real perpetrator, always remained cleverly hidden in the shadows; he never showed himself; he always reached his ends through other persons. The area of his work reaches far beyond his professional duties, his correspondence is very extensive, concerning almost exclusively Karl May. He is in intimate contact with all of my literary opponents, and wherever a paper is writing about me, a letter by him or one of his confidants is sure to follow. And almost everywhere, they believe him. They believe him just as Cardauns used to believe this liar who told him so convincingly that the Münchmeyer novels had been written by me precisely as they had been printed.

This gentleman Dr. Hermann Cardauns is inseparably connected with this very dark and very ugly chapter of the contemporary history of literature which is referred to as "Karl-May-persecution". He did not want to have it any other way. There, he stands in close union with people he otherwise does not belong to. This is also how he wanted it to be. His crushing style, his infallible way of choosing his words, his "abysmal" or "evident" pleonasms became a model for others, especially for those who construct those figurative nooses around my neck, to "whip me out of the Germen arts". But the entire conglomeration of what he has spoken and written in lectures and newspapers against me, constitutes by no means a sturdy column, which no one would be able to shake, but rather a paper kite in the shape of a dragon, compiled from lots of vague circumstantial evidence, the rope of which nobody wants to hold any more aside from Mr. Cardauns himself. It surely takes a lot of blind faith, to think like him that my "indecencies" could also be proven by other means than only by the presentation of my original manuscripts. Just making a lot of words will not do it; assertions will also remain unsuccessful, as long as they are not proven. Though there is a lot to be read in Cardauns's essays against me about files, documents, and other evidence, he claims to possess proving my guild, I have not yet been shown a single official file and no single document. As it seems, this gentleman owns an older printed copy by Münchmeyer and a later edition by Fischer and presumes the first one to be a literal copy of my original. But I regard it as truly inconceivable that a "main or chief editor" could be thus mistaken. I am just too willing to consent that he has no idea what kinds of things are commonly practised by a notorious publisher of trash and colportage and what kind of a swindle this entire business is, but this does not excuse, but rather incriminate, him, because not knowing this, he also should not take the liberty of drawing conclusions from the reasoning of the filthy colportage which may only be dawn from the reasoning of honourable people. Fischer could only enjoy the tremendous success of the rewritten trashy novels thanks to the excessively loud roll of the drums of Mr. Cardauns. Even the most incompetent politician knows that these kinds of things can only be killed by silence and not by gongs and tomtoms. But I, who was supposed to be struck dead by these tomtoms, these speeches and newspaper articles, have been rendered unable by this to remove this trash entirely from the face of this world as I had intended. My intentions were good; but since Mr. Cardauns supported my opponents by keeping me from carrying out those intentions, he has done Münchmeyer's colportage a service, for which they will always think gratefully of him. During all of this long time until now, he has been their faithful champion; whether he had planed it this way or not, the effect remains the same.

The second champion for Münchmeyer's cause, ranking highly above the first one, even mentally, is the former social democrat Mr. Rudolf Lebius in Charlottenburg, who had seceded from the Christian church. Concerning him, I will quote a passage from my written statements to the fourth criminal division of the Royal Superior Court III in Berlin:

In the year 1902, I was travelling in the South, and at the Lake Garda, the mail from home caught up with me, containing among others a letter by a certain Lebius, who described himself in a rather exuberant manner as a man who intimately knew and admired my work, and he made the request to be permitted to visit me at some time. This exuberance instantly arose my suspicion. "He wants money, nothing else", I said to myself. I replied to him that I was not at home and that I therefore was unable to invite him. In answer to this, he wrote to me on April the 7th, 1904:

"Dear Sir!

"As early as one and a half years ago, I had attempted to get in contact with you, to which the enclosed card will serve as evidence. In the meantime, I have published a new newspaper, here, which has won great popularity. Could you be persuaded to write something for my paper? Something biographical perhaps, on the way you work, or on such details which might interest the German readership of Karl May. I would also like to interview you.

_"With_outstanding_admiration_ "Rudolf Lebius, publisher and editor."

So, Lebius had carefully kept my card all this time, to gain entrance into my house. He had signed his letter "with outstanding admiration". Again, I said to myself: "He only wants money." The assertion that his new newspaper had "won great popularity" was not the truth. I was to be lured in by this. Such a visitor must not be turned away, especially when he comes armed with a newspaper, however small it may be, or else he will get even. Thus, I wrote to him that he would be allowed to come, and he answered on April the 28th:

"Many thanks for your kind letter. Of course, I am happy to accept your friendly invitation. Unless you will give me another time, I will come to see you on Monday, May the 2nd, at three o'clock (departure at 3:31).

_"With_great_respect_and_admiration_ "Rudolf Lebius."

He came. But I did not allow him to interview me. I did not put up with that. My wife, who had opened the door for him, had only showed him to me under the condition that absolutely nothing would be published. He gave his word on this, first to her and then also to me. He stayed for coffee, and he stayed until after dinner. He spoke very much; he spoke almost incessantly. I remained intentionally silent. I only said what was unavoidable. I did not trust him, and, to be protected by a witness, I had invited the military author and editor Max Dittrich [a] for the same time, who conducted the conversation in my place.

[a] Julius Eduard Maximilian Dittrich (1844-1917) and Karl May had been to prison in Zwickau at the same time. Later, Dittrich worked as an editor in charge of articles on the military for several newspapers. He also wrote numerous books, mostly on military history.

Lebius drank much wine, while I only sipped. He became increasingly agitated, while I remained calm and circumspect. He tried very hard to convince me and my wife that he had the stuff it took to be a "real man". This was his favourite expression, which he often used. Incessantly, he spoke about his principles, his views, his plans, about his great skillfulness, his ample experiences, and his excellent success as a journalist and an editor, as a publisher and a manager, as a leader of the flock and a tribune of the people.

This man attempted to impress us in a manner which only a quite ordinary, imprudent person would use, who is thus convinced of his own outstanding qualities, that he does not even consider that others might laugh about his conduct. When he saw that I did not respond to any of his tricks, his efforts became more desperate. He had to convince me of his excellent qualities, at any price! After all, he needed money, lots of money! And I seemed to be his final hope to get it! Therefore, in his financial angst, he revealed to us the most secret principles of his business and his way of life. Because of the large amount of wine, he believed he could win us over by this, but only affirmed our repulsion. Since I have to be brief here, I will only reproduce the three most important ones of these principles of his. These are:

1. Editors and journalists like us usually have no money. Therefore, we also cannot afford the luxury of a personal opinion. We want to live. Therefore, we sell our services. _Whoever_pays_the_most,_gets_us!_

2. Every person has some dark spots on his character or in his life. _Even_every_employer,_every_official,_every_policeman,_ _every_judge_or_prosecutor_has_such_a_skeleton_in_his_closet._ These things have to be found out, wisely and clandestinely. No difficulty may be a discouragement in this. And once it has been found out, the game is won. A note will then be placed in the newspaper, telling the person concerned that all is known, but in a manner so that he cannot sue. Then, he will be in our hands, and we can do with him as we please. He will surrender. In this manner I have already often worked to the benefit of my readers!

3. In a social respect, mankind can be divided into sheep and rams, masters and servants, those who command and those who obey. Whoever wants to stop being a human member of the flock, _has_to_cast_aside_the_conscience_of_the_flock._ Once he does so, all who are still burdened by this conscience will come running after him. It does not matter at all which flock he might want to belong to. He can leave one and join another, he can switch sides. This does not hurt him. He only has to make sure that it is done with the necessary warmth and conviction, for this elates the crowd. If the social democrats do not follow him, the others will!

When the three of us heard these astonishing lessons, Max Dittrich burst out in rage several times; my wife was quiet with amazement; but I left the room to overcome my disgust! Thus, Lebius received neither money nor anything else from me. So, he came to realize that this unprecedented self-incrimination had not just been entirely in vain, but that by it he had also delivered himself into our hands. Now, the three of us were the most dangerous people there were for him. _He_could_never_allow_us_to_ _state_our_case_in_court,_ but rather had to do everything _to_ _portray_us_as_untrustworthy_persons,_who_had_no_right_to_testify_ _under_oath._ It is very important to me to emphasise this in particular, for | this is the only right key for all of his later actions, | | which would hardly be understandable without this key, | | because the hatred this man has against the three of us seems | | to be almost inhuman. |

Even before he left on this night together with Max Dittrich, I had purposefully complained about the many letters in which I, not being a rich man at all, had been besieged with requests for money, and did so in a manner which had to keep any educated, honourable man from approaching me with similar wishes: As soon as the very next day, he wrote me the following letter:

"Dresden-A., 5/3/04. "Dear doctor!

"Cordially thanking you for the friendly reception and your hospitality, I am asking you, in case you should visit the art exhibit or should happen to come to Dresden on another occasion, to have lunch or coffee with us.

"In one respect, I have to go back on the agreement we reached yesterday. I cannot accept your offer to work for us free of charge. We will pay ten pfennig per line, which would be the same price you are likely to have received from other newspapers.

"What you have told me yesterday, I have considered one more today. It would seem to me that in spite of the colossal sales of your works, the profit could still be increased extensively. My experiences as a bookseller and publisher have taught me that the value of properly managed propaganda and direct advertisement cannot be overestimated at all.

"My wife and I send our regards to your wife and you with _admiration_ and _gratitude,_ yours truly "Rudolf Lebius."

Let me point out that he addressed me as "doctor", though, during his visit, I had, and not just once, made clear to him that he should refrain from doing so. But he did not do so, for, after all, this title was serve him as a weapon against me!

At about this time, Max Dittrich wrote a booklet about me and my work. He was so imprudent to show the manuscript to Lebius. The latter came rushing to Radebeul right away, to ask me to use my influence on Dittrich that he should let him, Mr. Lebius, publish this work. It goes entirely without saying that he and his request were rejected, and I wrote to Mr. Max Dittrich that I would never want to see him again, if he would consider letting this man have the booklet.

This second visit of Mr. Lebius took at most ten minutes. After he was gone, I was missing a photograph, he had stolen from me. He was never allowed to return again. Nevertheless, he had repeatedly pretended to have been a guest at my house at numerous occasions and to have studied me very carefully.

The next day he wrote to me:

"Dresden-A., 7/12/04 34 Fürstenstraße.

"Dear doctor!

_"I_would_very_much_like_to_publish_Dittrich's_booklet_and_would_ _also_make_the_greatest_efforts_to_put_it_in_wide_circulation._ But on account of my resignation from the `Sachsenstimme' - officially I will not be leaving my job until the first of October of this year - I have become a bit short on capital.

_"Would_you_perhaps_grant_me_a_loan_for_three_years_at_5_percent?_ Perhaps, I will pay the debt back to you as early as one year from now.

| "To show my gratitude for this, I would promote the booklet | | in such a way that the whole world would talk about it. | | After all, I am particularly experienced in this area. |

"Things will work out with my newspaper, and even on a very solid basis. Now it is up to me to work and to show _that_I_have_the_ _stuff_it_takes_to_be_a_real_man_ etc. etc. Best regards to your wife

"Yours truly Rudolf Lebius."

I did not answer. I was of the opinion that a man with honour could not proceed after such a silence, especially since I had _totally_rejected_Lebius_concerning_the_booklet._ But on August the 8th, he nevertheless wrote again:

"On the 4th of this month, I have become the sole proprietor of the "Sachsenstimme" at favourable conditions. I can now act as I please. To gain some independence from the printer, _I_would_ _like_to_take_a_loan_of_a_few_thousand_marks_(3_to_6)_for_half_a_ _year._ There is no risk involved. The Jewish interested businesses are behind me, who have, as the past season has shown, supported me to a large extent. The Christmas sales will give me the money to pay you back. _Would_you_grant_me_this_loan?__I_am_ _very_willing_do_something_for_you_in_return._ The large number of academic employees allows my paper to rise above the majority the of Saxonian newspapers. We are furthermore able to send those articles, you might have an interest in, to 300 or more German and Austrian newspapers and highlight the article concerned in blue. Something like this will infallibly have its effect. In Dresden, I am sending my paper to all public bars (1760). Most sincerely Rudolf Lebius."

At the same time, I found out that Lebius owned nothing at all, but had taken the oath of manifestation [a], that he had not payed the printer of his paper, that he quite generally had nothing but debts, and that he even owed royalties. That his newspaper had a solid basis, was untrue, the same thing goes for the "large number of academic employees" and other things. Intentional deceptions like this ought to brought before the public prosecutor. Let me draw your attention to how he starts and ends his letters: "Dear Sir ... With outstanding admiration!" "With great respect and admiration!" "Dear doctor ... With admiration and gratitude." When he saw that this flattery failed to do its effect, he did not write to me any more, but to Dittrich. He did so on August the 15th, 1904:

[a] This oath forces a debtor to disclose all of his possessions. A debtor who refuses to take this oath can be sent to prison.

"Dear Mr. Dittrich!

"I will give you one percent for negotiating the loan. _I_do_not_ _need_more_than_10.000_marks._ But I would also make do with less. I will sent you your fee on the 20th of this month as agreed.

"Couldn't you _USE_YOUR_PERSUASION_ on doctor May to pay me an advance?

"Friendly greetings R. Lebius."

Then, on August the 27th:

"Dear Mr. Dittrich!

"My wife is going to see Dr. Klenke on September the 1st, to get a small amount he owes us. She will use this opportunity to pay you your royalties. You have my written promise that I will give you 1 percent of the money which I will obtain from H.V. or Dr. M. (May) on account of your intervention. You will receive the money right away . . . .

"Friendly greetings Lebius."

This refers to the fact that he owed Max Dittrich royalties in the amount of 37 marks and 45 pfennigs, which he, though this amount was very small, was unable to pay. As a consequence of this, a mirror has been seized from his house by the court. When he received an order to pay the 37 marks and 45 from Dittrich instead of my 10.000 marks, he wrote to him on September the 3rd:

"Dear Mr. Dittrich!

"I have urged Mr. Klenke M.D. to pass the amount of 40 marks from my account to you. Your behaviour towards me strikes me as most peculiar, perhaps even insulting.

"Sincerely R. Lebius."

But this Dr. Klenke also never considered paying the debts of Mr. Lebius, and thus it was only logical and consequential that on September the 7th, the following threat reached me in the form of a postcard:

"Dear Sir!

"A certain Mr. Lebius, editor of the `Sachsenstimme', has told another gentleman that he was writing an article against you. I have just overheard it in a restaurant. A friend is warning you of this man.

"B."

Of course, I was instantly fully aware of the author and the purpose of this card. The report of the court's _sworn_experts_ also states _that_nobody_but_Lebius,_in_his_own_hand,_could_have_ _written_it._ Obviously, he quite definitely expected me to pay the 10.000 marks in response to this extortion. If I would not pay up, I could not just be sure of the vengeful article he threatened to write now, but even of more of the kind and other things as well; this had to worry me. But even now, I did not respond and was facing the unavoidable article with a clear conscience, which appeared on September the 11th, 1904, in number 33 of Lebius's paper, the "Sachsenstimme", and bore the triple headline:

| "More light on Karl May | | 160.000 marks income for a novelist | | A famous author of colportage from Dresden." |

This man had given his word to my wife and me, not to publish anything. He had even only been admitted to our house after having made this promise, and now he nevertheless published something, and in what manner and for what reasons! He turned everything upside down; he twisted everything! He put all the words he pleased into our mouths and kept to himself what we had actually said, to avoid exposing himself to ridicule. This text contains more than 70 immoralities, twists of the facts, and direct lies. But this was only the beginning; the continuations followed soon enough. This article in number 33 of the "Sachsenstimme" had been written in such a manner that Lebius was still able to turn around, if I should now finally give him the money. And already in number 34 there came a very clear hint, telling me what would happen, if I could not be moved to pay. This hint consisted of an advertisement by Münchmeyer, which spoke volumes to me. You ought to know that the proprietor of Münchmeyer's business had told me: "The publication of the other novels doesn't hurt you too much yet; but as soon as I'm done with the `Lost Son' and start placing advertisement for it, you'll be lost! This one will be such a blow that you'll be unable to continue existing as an author after this!" And this "Lost Son" had now been advertised for in number 34 of the "Sachsenstimme". This was just as if they had written to me in gigantic letters: "But now, finally, surrender the money, or it will go on in this style!" The most dangerous extortionist is he who goes about his business in this cunning manner, which is even more clear than a spoken word, but is beyond the reach of any public prosecutor. But I nevertheless did not pay anything. Then, in number 44, there came a second elaboration, in number 46 a third, and in number 47 a fourth. In number 46 the connection of Mr. Lebius with Münchmeyer's business was demonstrated more clearly to me than before, for it said that the owner of this business had a large stack of old letters, written by me, in his possession and could therefore give very detailed information on me, if he only wanted. But the truth was that he did not possess a single old letter from me; I, on the other hand, knew now precisely that Lebius had taken on the job of executing the Münchmeyers' plan "to destroy me in the eyes of all of Germany by publishing my prior convictions in all the newspapers". I was convinced that the payment of those 10.000 marks would silence him right away, but I would have been ashamed to look into the mirror, if I had given him even a single pfennig.

As I had thought, so it happened: Already in number 48, there came without any provocation, out of the blue, the announcement: "The four years which Mr. Karl May had been sentenced to spend in Waldheim were, according to our information, the consequence of the burglary of a watchmaker's shop." But I have never committed any burglary. You see, that they did not care about the truth, but only about "destroying". This number 48 was published on Christmas Eve. At this time, posters were displayed in the windows of book-stores of Dresden, announcing the "Sachsenstimme" with these large, red letters: _"The_prior_convictions_of_Karl_ _May"._ There could not be a more striking evidence that this was not about literature, but rather the execution of perfectly despicable intentions! Therefore, let me put an end to this cruel show here. I cannot bring myself to listing all these so very great deeds of Mr. Lebius in detail. I only want to say in summary that he proceeded in this manner, until, after some time, he had to flee from Dresden. I have compiled the lies, he has spread about me in his articles from his time in Dresden, to prove them in court. In spite of the brief time, there are not less than 142 of them. There probably never was another human being who has surpassed this! But I am explicitly emphasising that this list, by no means, contains everything, but rather only a selection. I could more than double this number, though it is already very high. I have remained silent on this issue for a long time, until I could not bear it any longer. Once this time had come, I finally had to defend myself. I filed a complaint with the public prosecutor's office for extortion. I submitted his letters, and the threatening postcard from September the 7th, 1904, as well. The experts declared that it necessarily must have been Lebius who had written it. But the above mentioned office was of the opinion that this was insufficient to start an investigation. And Lebius did his best in all of his statements to portray me as a person who deserved no credibility. The definite proof of his skillfulness in this he had given by reporting to the royal prosecutor's office in Dresden that the owner of the hotel on the Mount Sinai had been in Dresden and had been talking very badly about me. And yet, everyone knows that up to this day there has never been a hotel on the Mount Sinai! I guess, this sufficiently proves that the creativity of this Mr. Lebius stops at nothing. Twice, I filed a private lawsuit against him. One of them was retracted by me during the proceedings, merely because I was so disgusted with all the filth I had to deal with there. The other one got him a fine of 30 marks at the first instance; but he was acquitted in the appeal, because my lawyer had become ill and sent a replacement, who argued the case without being fully informed.

This is all I have done against the attacks of Mr. Lebius, which were just as numerous as they were incessant. This was surely little enough! That I answered to reporters whenever they came to ask me, goes without saying. It would be asking too much from me to demand that I should lie to these gentlemen out of fear of Mr. Lebius. Nevertheless, he still pretends up to this day that it was not me who is pursued and assaulted by him, but rather him by me.

Even after he had fled from Dresden, leaving behind a rather sizeable amount of debts, his attacks against me did not stop. Let me just mention the article in the Austrian teachers' magazine, by which he stirred up about 40.000 teachers to join in the campaign against me. I kept silent. I even kept silent, when in Wilhelm Bruhn's magazine "Wahrheit" in Berlin, he published a perfectly outrageous assault against me, in which he branded me as an "atavistic criminal", who had been, for almost one decade, in prisons and penitentiaries on account of "continued burglaries"! There, he asserted that I had suffered through a serious, chronical disease, which had "obviously an antisocial" effect. With this, he had started to continue his machinations against me in Berlin, which had been interrupted in Dresden. Unfortunately, I had been compelled to meet with him there in person, because there was an unavoidable question, which I had to pose to him in connection with the extensive lawsuit against the Münchmeyers. For this purpose, I went to Berlin with my wife. We discovered his apartment. He were told that he was publishing a new paper, called "Bund" <alliance, union>. We telephoned him. He told us to meet him at the Café Bauer. We followed his instruction. He came with his wife and her sister. He did not answer my question. He denied everything. I told him that I would like to see his new paper. I meant this in a perfectly honest and good way, without any evil intentions. But he instantly got into a fit of rage and asked threateningly: "Are you up to something? If so, I'll proceed against you once again without delay! Here in Berlin, there are more than twenty papers like the `Dresdener Rundschau'. They are all at my command, if I should decide to destroy you! Here, this won't take long at all!"

I answered that I would not think of descending back into the old filth. My wife said to his wife in a calm and friendly manner that it was the most beautiful duty of married women to work towards reconciliation and to soften the harshness of life; then we left.

This was on September the 2nd or 3rd. _One_month_later,_ on October the 1st, the following letter arrived from Berlin; I was away travelling:

"Dear Sir!

"Though you would not know me, I would like to take the liberty of asking you, whether you could give me any more detailed information on a certain Mr. Lebius, formerly a resident of Dresden. The above mentioned gentleman, a former social democrat, has filed a private suit for gross insult against me, in my capacity as the former editor in charge of the `Vorwärts' [a]. In court, I will have to demonstrate what a `honourable gentleman' Mr. Lebius is. On account of an advice by an colleague from Dresden, I am now turning to you with every confidence, that you might perhaps be able to give me any kind of information about this gentleman. If this should be the case, I am looking forward to your kind response, which would very much oblige me.

"Most sincerely Carl Wermuth, Editor of the `Vorwärts'."

[a] "Vorwärts" : The newspaper of the social democratic party.

I repeat that I was travelling and was therefore unable to grant this wish, even if I had wanted to. On April the 5th, 1908, this was _a_full_half_year_later,_ I received another letter from the editor's office of the "Vorwärts":

_"We_regret_that_you_have_not_spoken_out_yet_ regarding the accusations against you by Lebius, or respectively that you have _not_supplied_us_with_the_necessary_evidence_ on the slanderous acts of Lebius in respect to you. As I have been told by my colleague Wermuth, your wife has informed us that you were currently travelling and that you were _unable_to_supply_us_with_ _the_desired_material_against_Lebius._ I am hoping that you have returned from your journey in the meantime und that you will now . . . ."

I guess, this sufficiently proves _that_it_is_not_me_who_is_ _pursuing_Mr._Lebius,_but_that_he_is_pursuing_me._ Mr. Lebius pretends that I had approached him at that time on the anniversary of the battle of Sedan [a] to be able to assist the "Vorwärts". Hereby, I am proving that I did not know anything about this complaint for gross insult at this time yet, but rather that the "Vorwärts" only informed me about it one month later and _did_not_ _even_receive_an_answer_ to this after another six months had passed! Thus, I had spared Mr. Lebius for a full six month, though it had been made so convenient and easy for me by the social democratic party to get my revenge against him. _That_I_do_ _not_pursue_him,_but_am,_again_and_again,_being_forced_by_him_to_ _act_in_self_defence,_ is, by the way, also proven by the fact that I have avoided up to this day to testify as a witness against him. The situation concerning this testimony in favour of the editor of the "Vorwärts" had been like this:

[a] September the 2nd.

Lebius had sued the "Vorwärts" for gross insult, and the "Vorwärts" had named me as a witness, of course without bothering to ask me first. Lebius was told by his conscience that he could probably not expect many kind words from this witness. Yes, the thought even occurred to him that I had already known about my role as a witness when we met at the Café Bauer. This enraged him. He sent his wife to my wife to Radebeul, to make threats against me. My wife wished this meeting to take place in my house; but Mrs. Lebius refused. The two women met at the restaurant of our railroad-station. There, Mrs. Lebius wanted to dictate to us, instructed by her husband, what and how I had to testify as a witness. In particular, I was supposed to declare in court that he had not written that threatening postcard of September the 7th in Dresden. If I did not do this, he would have to start the old fight against me anew. My wife rejected all of this most decisively, for were were now more convinced than ever that he was its author. Thus, his wife returned to Berlin, without having accomplished her mission.

Once Lebius had realized that this attempt had failed, he decided to render me unfit to testify under oath, and he planned to do so by means of a pamphlet, which had to be published soon enough before the appointed time when I was supposed to appear as a witness. But since this pamphlet, in order to be able to have its effect, had to be written in such a manner which absolutely inevitably had to be followed by a criminal prosecution of the author, which Lebius did not want to bring on himself, he looked around for a man to act as a front, who did not know him and Karl May yet and was sufficiently inexperienced, gullible, and in need of cash to get involved in this, for a few hundred marks, which would quite certainly _lead_to_a_prison_sentence_ for him, _without_even_suspecting_a_thing._ He found him in the shape of certain Mr. F.W. Kahl from Basel, pulled him into his web, and spun such a network of self-praise and lies around him, that this young, perfectly honest man almost considered it to be an honour to be allowed to put himself into the service of such an important, mentally, socially,and also in legal matters so very outstanding man.

Lebius, as he generally and always did, approached this matter, too, in an extraordinarily clever and cunning manner. In the beginning, he did not mention that it was _solely_ a pamphlet against _me._ He let the young man believe that he was supposed to write a SCIENTIFIC work on famous, or rather infamous, men. He gave him their names; my name was also among them. But when Kahl went to his work and received his instructions on a daily basis, these were to the effect that, one after another, all of these "famous and infamous" men disappeared, until Karl May was the only one left. And the "scientific" work was to turn into a pamphlet of the very lowest and most dangerous kind. Kahl realised this with every day more and more clearly. He started to suspect that, under the cover of perfect kindness, he was to be led to his doom. When he told Mr. Lebius straight out what he suspected, Lebius thought the best thing would be to confess the entire purpose of the pamphlet to him. He admitted to the following:

| Lebius has sued the editor of the "Vorwärts" for gross | | insult. |

| The "Vorwärts" has named Karl May as a witness against | | Lebius. |

| Therefore, it is necessary for Lebius to destroy Karl May. |

| In order to achieve this, he will publish this pamphlet, he | | currently working on. |

| The appointed time for Karl May's testimony is in the | | beginning of April. |

| Therefore, it is absolutely imperative that the pamphlet will | | be ready for distribution by April the 1st. |

| If the pamphlet should only be ready by a later date, it | | would be useless; in this case, he would not have to bother | | writing it at all. |

| It will be sent to the newspapers, which will report about | | it. This shall influence the judges. |

| It will also be presented to the judges directly. As soon as | | this will happen, May will be ruined as a witness. |

When the honest, young man heard this, his scruples became even greater than they had been before. When he said so and expressed his worries of being punished in court, Lebius suggested the following to him:

| As authors, we are anyhow and always with one foot in prison. |

| To have been sentenced in court, is good advertising for us. | | I also have already been convicted many times. |

| You have no reason at all to be afraid of the courts. You | | have no prior convictions, you may testify under oath. But | | May may not testify under oath. |

| May is under police supervision. He has been forbidden to | | live in a city. Therefore, he lives in Radebeul. |

| I HAVE A GREAT TALENT FOR DEALING WITH THE COURTS. ONCE I | | START TALKING, THE JUDGES ARE ALL ON MY SIDE! |

| WHEN A PERSON IN A TRIAL WRITES SUCH A PAMPHLET, THIS MAKES | | AN ENORMOUS IMPRESSION ON THE JUDGES! |

| Mrs. May has begged me with tears in her eyes to have mercy | | on her husband. |

| May has to be destroyed by this pamphlet. All the rest is | | unessential, ONLY THERE TO CONCEAL THE TRUE PURPOSE! |

The consequence of these and similarly peculiar verbal expectorations was that Kahl decided, to distance himself from this matter. He prohibited Lebius to print anything he had written or even to abuse his name for this pamphlet. He directed the very same ban also against the publisher. He thought that by such means he had ascended quite definitely back out of this morass. But he did not know Lebius and his audacity yet. The pamphlet was published, and even precisely on April the 1st. Its title was:

| KARL MAY, | | one who corrupts the German youth | by | F.W. Kahl - Basel. |

Kahl only found out from a Swiss newspaper that the pamphlet had nevertheless been published, and even under his name. He instantly took the appropriate steps. The appointed hearing, when I was to be questioned as a witness, which Lebius had been so afraid of, had not taken place. Whether he had nevertheless presented the pamphlet to the judges or not, I do not know. But he has, without delay, sent them to the newspapers, and even with summaries and commentaries etc., the slanderous nature of which you can get an idea of by just reading the following lines, which he has sent to the "Neue Züricher Zeitung" :

"Mr. May has waged his revenge against me by undermining my financial position by means of slander and driving my into bankruptcy. As soon as I had established myself in another town, he again appeared on the scene, the repeat the same manoeuvre. In doing so, before striking another blow against me, he loves to visit me at my apartment and to beg, with tears in his eyes, for peace."

This is not the place for me to talk about the contents of this pamphlet. It goes entirely without saying that my prior convictions had been listed, and even more than these. He distributed this all over the place, to "destroy" me according to the Münchmeyers' method. I obtained an injunction against it. It was no longer allowed to be printed and to be distributed. And I filed a private complaint for gross insult against him. This complaint could not be trailed in court, because my lawyer had lost all of my evidence, and these were far more than a hundred items. They were only found again with him, after it had already been too late. So, I was forced to agree with the suggestions for a settlement, which the presiding judge had made. Lebius took back all of his accusations against me, the material as well as the formal ones, stated that he regretted his attacks against me, and promised to leave me alone from now on. He did so with his signature. It was impossible for me not to believe in such a promise, given in court. And yet, it was a betrayal and an unconscientious act beyond comparison of his, to make this promise to me, for he could only make it _with_the_intention_of_breaking_ _it._ This was because he had contacted with my ex-wife. She felt, as all ex-wives do most of the time, unreasonably resentful against her ex-husband; he was planning on using this for his purposes. He came to see her in Weimar, where she lived. There, she lived calmly and contently of her alimony of 3000 marks, which I payed her, though I did not have to give her anything, because she had been the only guilty party. I had also amply supplied her with all conceivable things. Then, this man came to her and got all the bitterness, she had worked herself into, out of her, to fabricate out of this, supplemented with his own additions and distortions, a rope to hang me with. He promised her just as sacredly and solemnly as he once promise it to me, that nothing, nothing at all would be published, but straight away, he went to write for the edition of his "Bund" from March the 28th, 1909, an article under the headline: "A spiritistic writing medium as the main witness of the editors of the `Vorwärts'". With this alleged writing medium he was referring to my current wife.

It is a perfectly unbelievable filth, which is there being hurled against me and my current wife, and even by cunningly using and adapting the embittering agents, which exist in the emotional state of ex-wives. When the poor, unfortunate woman read this, she was shocked. So he did not keep silent! He had not kept his word! She instantly rushed to him to Berlin, to make him answer for himself. Once she was there, he had her stay. He turned her over to his brother-in-law Heinrich Medem, a former lawyer and notary, who, together with him, became her counsel. At first, they both persuaded her to give up her 3000 marks of alimony, and then forced her to pawn her valuables, for this would "give a better impression to others". This rather means that other people were supposed to think that I was the one who had plunged this woman into such poverty and such misery! Lebius has literally admitted this in his letter to the concert-singer Mrs. vom Scheidt, which is the object of the current private lawsuit, and the presiding judge at the first instance has praised him by saying in public: "That's very noble of you!"

Lebius had promised this woman, now that she had lost all of her income and was facing a desolate future, to pay her 100 marks a month for the rest of her life, Lebius with whom even attempts to repossess his belongings for debts of two or three marks had been futile! At first, she believed him; but he knew just too well that this promise was not legally binding. It was all nothing but a bombastic show! She borrowed 500 marks from acquaintances, to be able to live. But he gave her, little by little, only 200 marks, but by no means as a gift, only borrowed, for when he realised that she was distancing herself from him and sought to be closer to me again, he threatened her to sue her for the payment of 300 marks on account of these 200 marks.

And what did she get out of rejecting all of her income, throwing herself into filthy misery and worry, abandoning her nice, well-arranged conditions, even selling or pawning her jewelry? Nothing, nothing at all asides from becoming the tool for the revenge of Mr. Lebius, being trained like an animal by him to think, speak, and write about me precisely as he pleased, and being in every respect entirely at the mercy of him and Medem, his brother-in-law. For when I was forced, due to the article in the "Bund" mentioned above, to sue my ex-wife, Lebius and Medem designed her written statements so that only Lebius benefited from them for his attacks against me, and she had to sign things in the process the purpose and implications of which she did not even suspect! There had been times, when, in tears, she refused to sign such a statement. But she was nevertheless forced to do it! Until finally, she came around to the realisation that things could impossibly go on in this direction and in this manner, if she would not want to be completely ruined! She turned to me and asked for forgiveness. I took pity on the poor, manipulated woman. I retracted the criminal charges and the complaint for gross insult against her. And now, I found out in what a cunning manner she had been lured by Lebius out of her safe, calm position over to him, to be economically destroyed and morally exploited, or rather to be used against me with the aim of mutual ruin. He said his letter, which is the object of this current lawsuit:

| "Being advised to do so by my lawyer, I have indeed demanded, | | in regard to my settlement of the lawsuit with May, that Mrs. | | Emma should first pawn a part of her jewelry, for this gives | | a better impression to others." |

So, because I have settled my lawsuit with him, because he has apologised in court to me for his insults, and because he had promised in court to leave me alone from now on and forever, so therefore, _"in_regard_to_this",_ my wife now had to pawn her valuables, so that _I_ would be referred to as the scoundrel, by whom she had been driven into such a wretched existence! What is the word for such a behaviour? And after he had, in such a manner, caused her to lose all of her former income and her jewelry, he writes in this letter of his: "I have also instructed my syndic, Privy Councillor Mr. Ueberhorst, to prepare steps for me _to_get_my_money_back!"_ Could there be any expression by means of which the train of Lebius's thoughts and the manner of his actions would be comprehensively characterised?

This poor woman, who has, in alost every respect, been completely stripped of all she had by Lebius, was by no means the first or only devorcée, he got into his power to achieve his purposes. It is rather a very particular tactical habit of his, to pit ex-wives against their husbands. The most striking example of this is the case of Max Dittrich. Mentioning it here only briefly, I am asking you to pay _particular_attention_ to it, because it is _of_ _the_utmost_importance_ for the evaluation of Mr. Lebius.

As you already know, when this gentleman visited me, I had invited the editor and military author Max Dittrich to join me as a witness, since I was suspicious and cautious, to be protected against possible upcoming lies and swindles on Mr. Lebius's part by a fully credible witness. Mr. Dittrich had been present that day, from the beginning to the end, and had heard every word I had said. To have such a witness, became, as time moved on, more and more embarrassing and dangerous for Mr. Lebius. He therefore decided _to_render_him_unfit_of_taking_the_oath,_ the very same thing he has also done to me _and_is_still_doing_today._ This is, as will be demonstrated later, _a_personal_trick_ of his, which regards _as_infallible_ - - - rendering a person unfit to testify!

In this, he adheres to the principle he elaborated to us at his visit: Every person, every policeman and judge, every official has a skeleton in his closet, is guilty of something he has to keep secret. This has to be _discovered_ and _put_into_the_ _newspaper;_ this is the way to achieve domination and to be known as someone who has the energy it takes to be a _"real_man"._ Lebius did so here as well. The first wife of Max Dittrich had died; he had divorced his second wife; now his nervous system had become severely ill due to a ship-wreck, in which he just barely escaped death, sustaining dangerous injuries. This presented itself as highly interesting material, which simply had to yield something! So, Mr. Lebius ventured forth to look for the "skeleton in the closet", the "secret" guilt and sin. He searched everywhere, by means of letters, conversations, personal visits. Wherever he thought he could find out something, he came to call. He did not even have the decency to except Dittrich's relatives. Sneakily, he obtained access to Dittrich's old sister-in-law, Dittrich's nephews and nieces, and even Dittrich's second wife, who had remarried and led a happy, quiet marital life. He drew everything out of them, without them even suspecting why and what for. They answered trustingly and without reservations. But when he suddenly, giving them quite a shock with it, dropped the words "court" and "oath", they felt the clutches they had fallen into. They were unable to say anything bad and asked him to leave them out of it. He promised it to them. Dittrich's second wife felt especially uneasy about the prospect of being dragged into the filth of Lebius. Her present husband was a kind and good gentleman, but unrelenting in regard to the very strict ideas he had in respect to his "honour". For his wife to be on Lebius's side in _such_ an affair, would necessarily have brought on the most severe consequences for him and her! So, she asked Lebius not to involve her in this under any circumstances, and did not shy away from giving her his most sacred promise. But then he went about his business as fast as he could and published in number 12 of his "Sachsenstimme" a report, of which I am only going to quote a few points, which are not even the worst:

"Max Dittrich had no children from his first wife, but two from his stepdaughter, before she was even 16 years old."

"The grief over her husband's immorality was what killed his wife."

"Though his second wife was very tolerant, Dittrich finally went to such extremes, that a divorce became inevitable."

"For several years, he had an affair with his wife's niece, who was 16 years old and lived in the same house."

"Then, he started an affair with a young girl."

"His wife had him watched by an detective agency."

"During the divorce proceedings, Dittrich lived with his lover and also had his daughter with him."

"Now, he is partially an invalid due to a severe, syphilitic neurological disease" etc.

You can imagine how shocked his relatives had been, once they had read this and were summoned as witnesses to appear in court, because, most naturally, Max Dittrich had sued Mr. Lebius! The niece had to questioned at home; she was ill and confined to her bed. Dittrich's ex-wife, in her mental anguish, went to see the judge and told him honestly that this disgusting matter would be absolute murder against the happiness of her present marriage, having hardly any chance to survive this. This outstanding gentleman did not have solely the law in his mind, but in addition also a human heart in his chest and dealt with the interrogation in an accordingly humane manner.

Even if we were to suppose that all of the items listed by Lebius were based on facts, every more or less educated and not entirely brutish person would surely have to ask himself, whether the publication of such things was _permissable_ according to the _law_ or the _moral_codex_of_the_press._ I am convinced that everyone, except for Lebius, will answer "No!" to this question. Though this would, at any rate, suffice to characterise this gentleman, it is not by a long shot all of it, for if someone would take the time to look through the files of Dittrich versus Lebius, he would, in the end of these, see yet another light being shed on Mr. Lebius. This is because there he confesses that his slander against Max Dittrich _had_not_been_true,_ and declares that he was willing to pay the costs of the trial! I believe, this is all one has to know to be now fully acquainted with this gentleman.

Whether someone jumps out from behind a bush and murders another person, or whether he bumps off people from the columns of an uncivilised newspaper as often as he pleases, the legislation of the future will surely have to regard and to treat this so very differently than nowadays. And yet, there are, thank God, already in this time some authorities of a high mind and of mankind's ethos, who regard the killing of a human _soul_ as at least just as punishable as the murder of a human _body._

On March the 27th, 1905, Lebius had hurled the accusations listed above in his "Sachsenstimme" against Max Dittrich, and on the following November the 18th, he declared to the second criminal division of the Royal Superior Court of Dresden, as it has been recorded:

| "I declare that I hereby retract the insulting statements, | | which I have made against the plaintiff in the issue of the | | `Sachsenstimme' from March the 27th, 1905, | | ! ! ! as untrue ! ! ! | | and that I am expressing my regret concerning the statements | | made in the `Sachsenstimme' and that I am therefore | | ! ! ! asking the plaintiff for his forgiveness ! ! !" |

Then, when a few years later, Lebius started an argument and lawsuits with the "Vorwärts" in Berlin, they listed the military author Dittrich as a witness against him. Instantly, Lebius resorted to his well-known trick, to eliminate witnesses by means of the press. He once again published precisely the same things he had, at that other time, published about Dittrich and than retracted before the Superior Court of Dresden | ! ! ! as untrue, ! ! ! | begging for forgiveness. Dittrich was therefore forced to sue him again and to point out this retraction and plea for forgiveness. What did Lebius do? He declared in his written statement to the Royal Inferior Court of Charlottenburg from December the 24th, 1909, that, at that time, he had only made this apology and this confession of the untruthfulness of his statements | "for reasons of an economic nature". | His conditions had been thus tight at this time that he could not afford to travel to Dresden to attend the trial. Thus, he personally is the one who is drawing the following moral portrait of himself:

| In 1905, Lebius defames the military author Dittrich in his | | paper, published in Dresden. |

| In 1905, Lebius declares to the Superior Court of Dresden | | that these defamations were all lies and asks for | | forgiveness. |

| In 1909, Lebius publishes in his Berliner paper these | | defamations, he had described as lies, once again, as if they | | were the truth. |

| In 1909, Lebius declares in his written statement to the | | Inferior Court of Charlottenburg that he had previously lied | | to the Superior Court of Dresden. |

And why this tangle of lies in court! And how is it possible for a human being, who would have to possess some sense of honour and shame, to declare himself in court as a liar and then to describe this declaration also as a lie? He himself has given us the answer to this question: He was in a tight situation; | ! ! ! he had no money ! ! ! |

So, when Lebius has no money, this is a perfectly sufficient reason for him _to_lie_to_judges_and_court_authorities_and_to_ _present_his_character_in_such_a_way_that_no_cautious_person_ _could_ever_believe_anything_he_says_again!_

I could continue for hours to talk about Lebius in this manner. But for the purposes I want to achieve today, what I have said up to here will suffice. I had made notes of the lies, Lebius had spread about me, not all of them, but only the most striking ones. By now, there are _more_than_five_hundred,_ I can prove him guilty of in court. In the last three weeks alone, he has served me with four plaints for gross insult, though I had nothing whatsoever to do with these insults. This is what is commonly called an execution! And in all this, he always insists, as I have already mentioned, most expressly that I am the one pursuing him, not him pursuing me. In response to his many, terrible articles from the years 1904 and 1905, I have only sought assistance once from the public prosecutor's office and twice from the courts. After this, I have kept silent to all of his further attacks, until he forced me by means of the alleged Kahl-pamphlet, to defend myself, because I _was_to_be_"destroyed_in_the_eyes_of_the_judges"._ And even in this case, I have forgiven him, settled the matter with him, retracted my complaint in return for his promise to leave me alone from then on, though the judge in charge said, that Lebius would have to face _a_severe_punishment_ if it got to trial. See the court files 20 B. 254 08/34, signed Schenk, Nauwerk. I bore it, when Lebius, in spite of his promise in court to leave me alone from then on, manipulated my ex-wife against me, exploiting her, depriving her of her income and her jewelry, _and_almost_ _reduced_her_to_beggary._ She had been lured by him into taking steps in courts against me, which almost have to be described as insane. And in doing so, he had the guts to pretend in the first instance of the current trial for gross insult, | "that he had represented her interests and could therefore | | claim protection according to article 193 [a]!" |

[a] I do not know how this law might have changed in the last 90 years. In its current version, article 193 of the German penal code states that certain insulting statements are only punishable, if the insult consists in the form, not the contents of the statement. Among others, these kinds of statements are those made to defend a right or to protect a valid interest.

Never before, a greater lie has been uttered than this one! By manipulating Mrs. Pollmer, Lebius has only pursued his own private interests concerning the lawsuits, _while_the_interests_of_this_ _poor_woman_were_callously_trampled_upon_by_him._ It is an outrage that, to top it all off, he even demands the protection of article 193 for this!

The newspapers have repeatedly described him as a person "to whom the lives of others mean nothing in the pursuit of his goals". My ex-wife had even used another, extremely bad word instead of "person", without him daring to hold her responsible for this in court. Whether this accusation is true, or whether it is an exaggeration, I could prove with many examples; but I only want to give this one: After the trial in Charlottenburg on April the 12th of this year, which had been completely misrepresented in the newspapers' reports, the "Boston American" in Boston, Massachusetts, published the following note, which had been sent to them from Berlin:

"Author of pious books, a bandit. Berlin - - - Mr. Charles May, the millionaire, philanthropist, author of pious books, and an outstanding personality of Germany, has today been branded by a jury as the perpetrator of many, serious crimes, committed in the mountainous area of southern Saxony, where, 40 years ago, he led a gang of robbers. _May_collapsed_and_was_placed_under_the_ _protection_of_his_friends,_to_prevent_him_from_committing_ _suicide_ etc." To make up such monstrous distortions of the truth, in order to "destroy" me, this does surely constitute a disrespect for the lives of others, or does it not? But let this be enough on this Mr. Lebius. The place for all the rest is the court, but not here. To let my readers see things clearly, there is only one more fact to be stated: Münchmeyer's lawyer Dr. Gerlach is his lawyer as well, and both are giving each other help and assistance to the largest possible extent. There are two more extremely interesting champions for Münchmeyer's cause I have to mention, who, though in respect to their intelligence, neither of them comes close to Gerlach or Lebius, nevertheless leave a striking impression as god-fearing, Catholic monks in the company of those pursuing the interests of the colportage, who are Protestants or have even seceded from the church.

One of them is the Benedictine Father Ansgar Pöllmann in Beuron. I had been facing a Benedictine Father in court once before. His name was Willibrord Beßler and called himself a professor. He had published a serious insult against me in the "Stern der Jugend" . I found out that he had his domicile in the Benedictine abbey of Seckau in Styria; so, I travelled there and had him summoned to the district court of Leoben. There, it turned out that he did have the right to bear the title of a professor at all. He gave me the following written apology:

"Responding to a request to give a more detailed definition of the terms `professor' and `author for the youth', attributed to me in various writings, I hereby state that I am a teacher at the private secondary school of the abbey of Seckau and that I am a correspondent for the youth-magazine `Stern der Jugend'. Furthermore, I truthfully declare that I regret the article contained in the above mentioned magazine (1903 No. 25) on the medical conditions of the author Karl May and that I formally take back those words he objected to in court.

"Seckau, October the 20th, 1904. Father Willibrord Beßler O.S.B." [a]

[a] OSB = Ordinis Sancti Benedicti (of the order of Saint Benedict). The original book incorrectly reads "O.S.P.".

And now there was once again a Benedictine Father, I had to sue in court! The name of the abbot seems to be Ildefons Schober in both cases. Might it be the same person? Not in Seckau and not in Beuron, but elsewhere, Benedictines have printed lots of illegal copies of my "traveller's tales" without my knowledge, until I forbade them to do so. I do not know how it is possible for an religious order to print and distribute my works without any permission, and still to insult and persecute me in such a public manner, or rather to put me and these very same works under the ban! In vain, I am making every effort to find a logical connection between these two. After all, it goes entirely without saying that I could not possibly have allowed this printing to go on! By the way, this Father from Beuron is the very same who wants to "put a figurative noose around my neck, to whip me out of the temple of German art with it". So, first they print copies of my books without asking me, and then they drive me out with their whips! This is how Father Pöllmann characterises his own order, which has truly done more than enough for the benefit of our literature, so that it should not be given such a reputation by one of its members!

Father Pöllmann has written a series of articles against me in the Catholic magazine "Ueber den Wassern" , and I have answered them in the magazine "Freistatt" from Vienna. This ought to have settled things between us, and it would have been up to the readers to decide, whether they would take his or my side. But, while I, quite naturally, was as factual and polite in my responses as possible, his articles consisted of almost nothing else but insults, so that he will have to be inconvenienced to appear in court. And furthermore, his personal relationship and the relationship of his writings to Mr. Lebius, the lawyer Gerlach, and the Münchmeyers' plan, to "destroy" me in the newspapers, has to be ascertained. He has denied to be in contact with Lebius, Gerlach, etc.; but these kinds of relationships of his are very easily proven. This point has to be clarified. For even he cannot deny that he had most forcefully taken part in "destroying" me. His articles in the "Wasser"-magazine are most eagerly used against me in both trials, the one against Lebius and the one against Pauline Münchmeyer. He has even been named by Lebius as a witness or "expert" and will have to testify in Berlin in this capacity.

Concerning our trial for gross insult, Father Pöllmann adheres to a tactic, which I cannot approve of. I have to wonder, if it is part of this tactic of his to deceive the reading audience. At first, from time to time, certain articles were published in an ironic and patronising tone, making fun of the fact that I had not carried out my threat to sue him. And now, as he has to see that I did keep this promise, certain newspapers hostile to me keep on pretending that my complaints for gross insult had been dismissed by this or that court and that I would have to be liable for all expenses. This is not fair, perhaps even undignified. The question was only which court had the jurisdiction, nothing else. When I filed the criminal charges against Father Pöllmann, I was under the jurisdiction of the Inferior Court of Dresden. In the meantime, the Inferior Court of Kötzschenbroda had been founded, which is now in charge of my district. Therefore, the question was raised, whether the matter, as a consequence of this, had to be tried here or there or elsewhere. Until this has been decided, is has to be suspended. Whoever portrays it differently, can only be either ignorant or vicious. I know nothing about any expenses.

The situation concerning my complaint for gross insult against Father Expeditus Schmidt in Munich is quite similar. It has been filed in Dresden and the trial started in Kötzschenbroda. Here also, questions concerning the jurisdiction have been raised, but not by me. I have no reason at all to prefer the verdict to be pronounced in one place rather than another, for my cause is just. I do not need to weigh with subtle reasoning, if I would win or lose my lawsuit in a certain place, with a certain court, and in a certain case. I must not cling to such extraneous things, but rather stick by the matter itself and the truth of it; the rest, I leave up to the judges.

These transfers were no obstruction, but an advantage, for me. They have given me an opportunity to see the cards my opponents were holding. Most of all, it turned out that the two Fathers Schmidt and Pöllmann are closely connected with the name and the cause of Münchmeyer. Their lawyer is connected with the lawyer of Münchmeyer and Lebius. I will prove this, and then the connection with the Münchmeyers' plan to "to destroy me in the eyes of all of Germany in all the newspapers" will be perfectly self-evident. To enable my readers to briefly review the current state of affairs, I am ending this chapter by quoting an article, which the "Wiener Montags-Journal" <Monday's Journal of Vienna> published this year on October the 17th. It reads:

_Karl_May_as_a_novelist._ (A redress.)

We are faced with an impressive series of volumes, the work of an immensely productive and successful author. But at the same time, it also constitutes his exoneration. This is because, until now, there have not been many cases where a person's literary work has been the reason for such abysmally vicious and underhanded attacks, as those targeted against Karl May. Before we will turn to a detailed assessment, recognising the so very rich imagination of this German novelist, we want to give the defamed author the opportunity to defend himself, which is now, after the lawsuits against his spiteful and malicious opponents have been successful, also a redress. Mr. May has written to us:

The entire so-called "Karl-May-persecution" has been constructed based on lies. The first one of these lies is, that I was an author for the youth and had written my traveller's tales for immature, young people. Most of these tales have been published by the "Deutscher Hausschatz", which as surely never been a magazine for boys. And every honest eye will instantly see, when glancing at the volumes which were published later, that they can only be understood my mentally grown-up persons. With this, all accusations of me allegedly "corrupting the youth" lose their basis. The fact that, nevertheless, young people are reading my books and even enjoy them very much, still would not prove that I had targeted them at them, but rather that a youthful soul is finding in them, what others are depriving it of.

A second lie is that I was fibbing in these traveller's tales of mine. Whoever says so surely does not even suspect what a bad testimony he is giving to his own intelligence. After all, it only takes the analytic powers of an eighth-grader to realize that all of my narratives only have their roots in real live, but otherwise extend upwards into regions which are not so commonplace. Every reader who understands me knows that I describe countries and peoples which, up to this day, exist almost exclusively in fairy-tales, but have to move, by and by, into the realm of absolute reality for us. When I envision and describe as reality what is still a fairy-tale to others, only for ignorant or malicious people, this can be a reason to maintain that I was fibbing.

In the past, nobody would have thought of judging me in this insulting manner. Whoever had not understood me would not have said more than that I had a very extensive imagination. Only after the biggest of all lies which exist about me had been spread, this is the lie that I had written "abysmally indecent trashy novels", they dared to talk to me in such a tone. This untrue statement has its source with a bookseller of colportage, who had an interest in spreading it around, in order to make as much money as possible by exploiting my name. In the person of Mr. Cardauns, who used to be the editor in chief of the newspaper called "Kölnische Volkszeitung" at that time, this lie found the man who, by means of his publications, did more than much to further its distribution and even took it on himself to produce "evidence" that the indecencies in question could be the product of nobody else's but my pen. Quite naturally, the true, irrefutable proof would only have been possible by presenting the original manuscripts, I had written. All other evidence could only be based on intentional deception or self-delusion and finally had come out as a bombastic illusion.

What kind of evidence was it which Mr. Cardauns presented? He came forth with one unproven allegation after another. He listed quite a number of "inner reasons", to conceal the lack of real reasons. He talked about proofs, evidence, indisputable official documents and such. The "Neuigkeits-Weltblatt" from Vienna even proves that he had stated that he would own the original document, undoubtedly proving May's guilt. Everyone had to presume based on this that he would have my original manuscripts in his possession, and therefore, he was believed, especially since those papers in which he had made his assertions persistently refused to print my responses. With his self-delusion he started a trend: others deluded themselves as well, until in due time they came to see the facts as they are by themselves. Today, only a few still believe in his elaborations. Others accept them, because they benefit from them in a lawsuit or for similar reasons. Whether Father Expeditus Schmidt and Father Ansgar Pöllmann, my two newest opponents, truly believe in their friend Cardauns, I do not know; I could only guess. What they assert is, from my point of view, far removed from any kind of a proof. But all they do against me, they base on the old foundation laid out by Cardauns, and they really seem to be convinced that I will soon collapse under the accusations they and their allies make.

These allies are: The former colporteuse Mrs. Pauline Münchmeyer, publisher of the notorious "Temple of Venus", which had been confiscated by the police. Furthermore, there is the lawyer of that woman, Dr. Gerlach in Dresden, who, by now, has incessantly waged his war against me for entire nine years. And finally, there is this well-known Mr. Rudolf Lebius in Charlottenburg, the socialist, who has seceded from the Christian church, who had proposed that he would be willing to praise and laud me in his paper, if I only gave him between 3000 and 6000 marks, and in the end even 10.000 marks. I gave him nothing. In response, he changed over to the Münchmeyers' side and was the most unrelenting one of my opponents ever since. I want to state explicitly that he also has the advocate Mr. Gerlach for a lawyer. And when I am now adding that the Münchmeyers' Mr. Gerlach is also the lawyer and advisor of Father Expeditus Schmidt and Father Ansgar Pöllmann, this results in the following drastic picture of of the chase: I am completely surrounded. I am encircled by Mr. Cardauns, the colporteuse Mrs. Pauline Münchmeyer, the advocate Mr. Gerlach, Father Schmidt, Mr. Lebius, and Father Pöllmann. Every one of them is ready to gun for me at any time. Though they deny being in contact with each other, they call upon one another as witnesses and experts in their lawsuits and assist each other in the collection of evidence against me and by producing petitions and legal statements for the courts. But the most prominent one of them all is this advocate of the Münchmeyers', who directs everything and all of them, even the two Fathers. The most harmless and amusing one, on the other hand, is Mr. Cardauns, who, as far as I know, could never made to confess that he did not possess my original manuscripts, until recently in Bonn he had to admit in my presence, being interrogated by the judge in charge as a witness, that he had never even seen them.

The question, whether that Münchmeyer lady will be able to bring me down with the assistance of her five secular and clerical comrades, has long since been decided. Nobody who knows how matters are would continue asking it. - -

Radebeul-Dresden, October 1910. Karl May.

IX. Conclusion

Just as my "traveller's tales" are only sketches, this work before you is also just a sketch. It could not be anything else, because what I am telling you has not ended yet and because numerous lawsuits, which have been forced upon me, are taking aim at me like menacing revolvers. Furthermore, brutal physical pain prevents me from writing as I would like to. To receive, during a time of ten years, four times a day, entire stacks of letters and newspapers, overflowing with venom, mockery, and gloating, is more than any Samson or Hercules could endure. Mind and soul have remained strong. Not the slightest part of my inner self has changed. My confidence in God and my love for mankind have not been shaken. But in the end, it has still got the best of my body, which used to seem so indestructible in the past. It is on the verge of collapse. For one year, I lack natural sleep. Whenever I want to rest for a few hours, I must resort to artificial means, to sleeping powders, which only numb the senses and are not harmless in their effect. I also cannot eat. Just a few bites a day, my poor, dear wife forces me to take. But instead, I am in pain, an incessant, terrible neuralgic pain, which forces me up from my bed at night and rips the pen out of my hand a hundred times during the day! I feel, as if I had to scream all of the time, to shout for help. I cannot lie down, cannot sit, cannot walk, and cannot stand up, and yet I have to do all of these things. Most of all, I would like to die, die, die, and yet I do not want to die and may not die, because my time is not up yet. I have to solve my task.

My task? Yes, my task! I have finally, finally realized what it is. It is just what I had thought, and yet so very, very different. I have already said: The Karl-May-problem is, like every other mortal's problem, an individual example of a problem which concerns all of mankind. But while most people are only called upon to represent to their small, immediate surroundings certain phases of the great problem, there are also others who have been given the hard task to serve as a representation of it, though also just on a small scale, but not just representing an individual detail, but rather the whole. The many represent parts of mankind, while the few represent images of mankind. The many can keep their narrow surroundings clean; people like this exist by the dozens; they can even appear as exemplary people. But the few are assigned the virtue and the sin, the purity and the filth of the entire mankind in a representative ratio; they can become famous generals or crude murderers, great diplomats or notorious swindlers, philanthropic financial geniuses or despicable pickpockets, but never exemplary people. They have not been granted the enjoyable fortune of unconscious mediocrity. If the forces around them are more powerful than they, they are torn between virtue and vice, between height and depth, between cheer and desperation, until they dissolve above the clouds or plunge into the abyss. If they are the stronger ones and if they are born into fortunate surroundings, they will proudly and calmly go on their shining course; but if they came into this world where baseness, poverty, and want rule, they will still reach their goal, because they have to, but the resistance they will have to overcome will be brutal and unrelenting, and, once they have ascended to this top, before they will be able to sound their cry of victory, they will collapse with exhaustion, to close their eyes to this word.

One would think that everyone knew which of these types of people he would belong to, or at leat, everyone should feel obliged to think about this. I have done this and have arrived at the conclusion that I had no right to expect a simple, averagely happy life, but that I had to get acquainted with mankind's misery in its deepest depths, in order to work myself up from this misery just as persistently and just as exhaustingly as mankind requires floods of sweat and blood as well as millenia of time to rise from its. Likewise, I am convinced that I had been destined to meet with this unrelenting resistance, which opposes me up to this day, and that I have no right to complain about it, because I have brought it upon myself just as all of mankind would progress faster, if they would finally stop blocking their own path with obstacles. It is plain to see that I do not accuse anybody but myself.

If I ever spoke too tough or harsh in this book, if I have been unfair or stubborn, then this has, by no means, been intentional or deliberate, but it has been the still not quite overcome anima, dictating this to me. As long as a person moves in the low realm, and this is what I had to do in this description of my life to a more than large extent, the low matters have some power over him, and I was not allowed to be untrue; I had to write as my social surroundings required. But now, that I am reaching the end and am starting to breathe a better, cleaner air, I am also cleaner and freer in what I am writing and am regaining the strength to overcome everything which seeks to embitter me.

And there has been more than enough reason for me to be embittered. In this, I am only talking about the last ten years and what has happened as a consequence of the lawsuit against the Münchmeyers. This lawsuit has been conducted by my opponents, or rather by their lawyer Gerlach, in a manner which I had thought entirely impossible before. I had no idea to what an extent the law protects a lawyer in this respect. For the purpose of degrading the opposing party before the judge, he is at liberty to use means which nobody else is permitted to use. He is under the protection of article 193, because he is acting in his client's interests. I am going to list a selection of sample expressions, I had to put up with from the Münchmeyers' advocate Dr. Gerlach, because he employed them in his capacity as a lawyer:

He accused me of "imprudent extortions", "unjustified demands", numerous "audacities", and "mumbo jumbo". He called me "cunning", "fresh", "audacious", "slandering", "pathologically provoking untruthfulness", "liar", "lying May", "show-off", "Münchhausen", "boaster", "fraud", "scoundrel", "swindler", "commonplace swindler", "burglar", "imposter", "convict", etc. etc. I am asking you: Are these kinds of offensive statements, even if there was some truth in them, permitted in everyday life? Would a truly well-educated man want to move in the same circles as someone who has made them? Well, in the circles of the court they are permitted, for I have sued this lawyer on account of them for gross insult and have been rejected. But there is even more: In response to this complaint of mine, he filed counter-charges against me, and this was not rejected. The judge is perfectly innocent in this; he could not act any other way; the law proscribes it like this! One day, when the testimonies of the witnesses had turned out to be unfavourable for the Münchmeyers' party, this lawyer said to the judge: "But in any case, it is entirely impossible that a person with prior convictions, like May, could win this trial!" "You'll just have to wait and see," the judge answered to him. I was right there and had to put up with this insult, because the law allowed him to make it. For almost ten years, this has been going on like this and is still going on up to this day in the same tone and in the same manner. A very high-ranking judge said, regarding this, to my lawyer: "Never in all of my long time on the bench, a case has touched me so deeply like the that of Karl May. How much must this poor, old man have suffered!" He might very well have added: "How much is he still suffering, and how much more will he suffer!" This judge knew my prison record very well; he had studied the files which existed on it. Nevertheless and in spite of the verbal abuse of my opponents, I won the trial and all appeals, surely an expressive proof that German judges are not influenced by invectives on the lawyers' part; but nevertheless, I had to listen to them without being able to speak up and I still have to do so up to this day. And they work their effect, though not on the verdict, but definitely into another direction. They introduce a cruel rudeness into the way the parties interact with each other and extent beyond the courtroom, out into the public and even into the private life. All those insulting expressions about me, which I have listed above, one would already have read in the newspapers and would likewise also have come across them in private conversations. This is the necessary consequence of those liberties which every malicious, unscrupulous lawyer is allowed to take, once he sees that crude rudeness will get him further than humaneness. He writes these rude statements into his legal documents, and from there, he arranges it for them to appear as official files proving his case in the newspapers. Or he might first sent them to the newspapers and then submit them in printed form to the court as evidence, without saying that they originally came from him. If such a lawyer has several like-minded, or by him persuaded, newspapers or small papers on his side, it is easy for him to shatter, or possibly even to destroy, within a short time, every existence, no matter how firm it might stand. "To destroy in the newspapers of all of Germany", this is called. And the law encourages this practice!

There is also another, most interesting example I care about, which, if anything, will sound less than favourable for me. But I am mentioning it nevertheless, because, intending to write for the benefit of the general public, I must not ask whether I might harm my own interests by this. My first wife had insulted the wife of an author from Dresden, who had been told by the Münchmeyers that I had been previously convicted. He got even by informing against me with a German sovereign and told him that his relatives were reading my books and also visited me in person. The sovereign gave no reply. Then came a second letter with accusations, and now the sovereign was compelled to turn to Dresden, in order to find out what my prior convictions were all about. He received detailed information. An official was sent to Radebeul, to conduct on-the-spot investigations. He found out that my marriage had not been a happy one, which was the reason why I had not stayed at home in me free time, and that I had written in my books about countries where I had never been; everything I reported in them was not true. Therefore, the files of the police of Dresden record about me that I was leading an unsteady life and was an imposter by means of my literature. The sovereign was informed of this, and one of those relatives, he matter was concerned with, passed it on to me at the next opportunity in all the details. He knew very well how much there was to this matter, but asked me to be discrete, so that I had been compelled to keep silent about this. I also believed that I could keep silent, because I presumed that these kinds of police records were among the most secretive things in the administration. But now, they are being published by Lebius to my astonishment and are being exploited accordingly by my opponents. How does a former social democrat, who has seceded from the church, get hold of these secret records of the police of Dresden? The law permits it! Quite naturally, I now no longer feel obliged to be discrete and will insist that these records will be revised and corrected.

Another case brings me to Leipzig, where I, as I have reported on page 119 [a], have been apprehended forty-five years ago by unlawful means. This was such a long time ago that the court records about this have long since been destroyed, because humaneness demands that such traces shall only last for a very specific time, and this time is up. Who has now considered the possibility that the police of Leipzig might also have made notes about this, which might still be in existence? Mr. Lebius has recently published them! How does a man like he now also get hold of the police records of Leipzig? The law permits it!

[a] Fifth chapter, second half of the 13th paragraph.

Likewise, has published the records of my divorce. These are most certainly of a nature which requires discretion and are none of his business at all. But the law permits him to do so!

He is informed about everything relating to my lawsuits. Who gives him that permission, and who makes it possible for him? The law and the Münchmeyers' lawyer, who is his lawyer as well. Both are working hand in hand. At one time, Lebius even persuaded my ex-wife in Berlin to sign a blank power of attorney, but sent this to Dresden to the Münchmeyers' lawyer, who then filled in the blanks as he saw fit for his particular purposes. These are only a few examples from my rich, personal experience with the fact that the law does not just permit, but even encourages, things which it ought to prohibit most strictly. Even the most judicious and humane judge is powerless against this, and this was what I was thinking of when I said before that I had finally, finally realised what my task was. About forty to fifty years ago, I have involuntarily descended to that place where the despised people dwell, for whom regaining the respect, which had been robbed from them, is made so very difficult. I have come to know them, and I know that they are worth no less than all those who only never fell because they either had never been on a high level or did not possess the necessary inner freedom to be able to fall. I want to descent back down to them, now being almost seventy years old, not being forced, but voluntarily, as my own decision. I want to tell them what nobody dared to tell them before, this is that nobody can help them, if they do not know how to help themselves; that they are doomed, unless they save themselves using their own power; by sticking most closely together among themselves. I want to present them with my example, my life and my efforts. I want to show them what will become of all of their good intentions and all of their hard efforts, if others lack these good intentions. I want to show them that a single unfair lawyer or that single article 193 are enough to destroy even the most beautiful and best achievements of their strength of mind, of Christian love, and of humaneness in one blow. I want to tell them that it is a sin of mankind to conceal their share in the guilt of the guilty ones; but that it is also a mistake for the latter ones to keep their past guilt a secret. Our lives, my life, their lives shall be spread out openly before the eyes of God, but in particular also openly before our own eyes. Then, we will not bear a grudge, and then, we will not be resentful. Because then, we will realise why it was possible for us to fall: We made ourselves fall. And once we realise this, we are able to forgive ourselves; and he who may forgive himself, will be forgiven. So, do away with the inappropriate feeling of being ashamed, and bring out openness! Only the secret we veil ourselves in gives that article and every unscrupulous person the power to think himself higher and better than us and still to be our - - - executioner!

I am only giving you an outline here. Like everything up to this point, this can also be nothing but a sketch for now. But I am feeling the need to transform the evil things which others have done to me into something good for my fellow human beings. I will enable those who had the same fate as I to draw those conclusions from my inhumane persecution which are beneficial to them. What good is all so-called "justice", all so-called "clemency of the court", all so-called "humane punishment", all so-called "care for released prisoners", if all it takes is one cunning lawyer or one questionable article to destroy all the good things which had come out of these efforts in a single moment? How can anybody expect a fallen man to get up again and to be a better person, as long as they fail to create better conditions as well in the surroundings he is put back into? Does it encourage him to know that, in spite of all efforts to become a better person, he must still continue to be, as long as he shall live, the ostracised one, the suppressed one, the one without rights, and will continue to be like this, because he is forced to remain silent, no matter what is happening to him, and to let them do everything to him? Because if he does not do this, he is doomed. If he should go ahead and seek his rightful justice against those who insult, rob, and cheat him, his old files are dragged forward, and he is pilloried. Let me just remind you that a public prosecutor form Dresden, even just for purely "scientific" reasons, had nailed me to the pillory, while I am still alive! He could not even wait for my death and maintained that an article of the law gave him the right to conduct this vivisection. In such a situation one cannot help but look into the faces of those who talk about humaneness, to see whether there might be a sardonic smile coming through, revealing how things really are. And one feels, together with the hundreds of thousands who are suffering from this, the burning urge to take all of these articles, because of which mankind's good intentions fail, drag them to the light of day, and put them there where they must be, in order to be seen as what they really are, - - - into the public, before parliament!

Here lies the point where my task has to begin. There have already been several who have written down their experiences as "released prisoners"; but what could be gathered from these reports was so insignificant that it could not be of any benefit for the general public. Here, it is not enough to show the small lot of some people, but rather heavy, weighty fates of people, which are also real fates in the classical sense. _And_my_fate_is_ _like_this._ I feel obliged, and it is my task, to put it into the service of humaneness. What I mean by this will, so I hope, be be evident from my second volume.

It was a part of this task of mine, that the public did not only take an interest in Karl May the novelist, but also in the person May, and that everything which could be held against the latter had to be scooped up, down to the last drop. One thing was justified criticism; the other was the work of executioners, flayers, and knackers, I had to put up with without freeing myself from this agony and torture by paying the money they demanded from me. This was the spirits' furnace of my fable, where they were bashing away at me, so that the sparks were spewing through every newspaper. They even still spew today. But soon, this will quiet down. The time of the hammer is over; only the file is still to come, and then, it will be done. It goes entirely without saying that all that pain, which came upon me, also had to influence my other task, my task as a novelist. There also was dross, and even more than enough. It also had to be removed. Thus flew the soot, the filth, the dust, the hammer's blows. All of this is still lying all around me, but now, it will be cleared away, so that the clean, noble work shall begin.

It was quite generally a large, a hard, and a most painful process of clearing up and out; not just inside of me, but also externally, in my work, my profession, my house, my marriage. Everything which had driven me to the furnace and the pain had to go. It was replaced with what was clean and honest and what was striving upwards with me, from Ardistan to Jinnistan, the land of the nobly spirited people. This resulted in a separation of good from evil, which could only be brought about by means of struggles and sacrifices. Now it has been completed. The storms have passed. Though there a still a few murky waters, murmuring here and there, some lawsuit for gross insult, a complaint with the public prosecutor's office, but this will also pass quickly, and then, there will be calm and peace around me, so that I will finally, finally obtain the time and space and state of mind, to approach my real, my only and last "work".

Looking back at the last ten years, I am full of gratitude for having survived them. There has never been a "persecution" like the one against me for as long as earth exists in the literature of any country, of any nation. There were tempests in the newspapers, tempests in the courtrooms, tempests in my own house, and tempests inside of me. Though my old, faithful, good friend, the body, maintains that he could no longer go along with me, I am still convinced that he will nevertheless be as willing and understanding again as he has always been. He had to endure what normally could not possibly have been endured. First, there were for entire six years the three instances of the first trial against the Münchmeyers with all those upsetting and pathetic aspects connected with it. Then followed the twenty-two months of the investigation for perjury and incitement to perjury. This was because the Münchmeyers' lawyer had filed a complaint for perjury with the public prosecutor's office against me and my witnesses, after he had lost the trial. The prosecutor had, according to his own statement, accepted the complaint to finally clear this matter up. This struggle, lasting for almost two years, quite naturally ended with the finding that no proof of any punishable act committed by me or my witnesses could be established. But this was not the end of it yet, for other things came on top of this, which were almost even worse than everything which had happened before: the first assaults by Lebius; a double pneumonia, which kept me between life and death for several months; the accusations my ex-wife brought up against me, my present wife, and her mother, and by means of which she had sought to bring a severe punishment upon us; the complaints with the public prosecutor's office, which she had then filed by a friend against us on account of these accusations; the same complaints being repeated by Lebius in Berlin. Luckily, this ex-wife had voluntarily told and confessed everything which she then denied after the divorce, during the divorce proceedings in the presence of perfect strangers without any interference on my part, so that she could only have been lured into this later denial. The presentation of these pieces of evidence proved that all accusations against me were lies. Furthermore, there is the petition of Lebius with the public prosecutor's office to lock me up in a lunatic asylum; his petition to have me followed to America with a warrant for my arrest; the numerous articles against me in his paper "Der Bund"; his pamphlets with the most horrible lies, which were circulated in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, France, England, North and South America. In these, he even accused me of having strangled my father-in-law! [a] This goes on like this up until recent times. Finally, he informed against me for having made insulting statements about an investigating judge, and the very last thing was, about four weeks ago, a complaint with the public prosecutor against me for incest, the punishment for which is, as we all know, five years in prison. You see that the very most extreme means are being used to "destroy" me! To endure this, without losing the faith in God, the belief in the good of mankind, and all joy of life and strength to live, is an act I hardly think everybody would be capable of. I have endured it, without allowing myself to be tempted to take the law into my own hands, because I am incapable of doubting for a single moment in God and his love, and because, in all of these more than hard times, there had been a person by my side, whose brave, upward striving soul had lifted me up, like on the wings of angels, above all suffering, I was meant to be subjected to, this person is my present wife. If someone has had the right to write books on the topic of "The Savage Beast in a Woman" [b], I might just as well feel obliged to publish, as a contrast to this, a book bearing the title "Heaven in a Woman".

[a] This should probably read "grandfather-in-law", referring to C.G. Pollmer, the grandfather of Karl May's first wife. At any rate, Lebius's accusation is bogus. [b] "Die Bestie im Weibe" by Carl Felix von Schlichtegroll (1862-1946).

With such a woman by my side, who is a source everything which is clean, noble, and eternal in a human being, everything can be achieved in respect to the pains of life on earth, and everything can be performed in respect to the work which is still ahead for me, as far as it is humanly possible. I am no longer so terribly alone. No longer, I have to tap into nothing but my own inner self, but rather I have been joined by a delightfully plentiful living soul, by whose influence everything inside of me which is leading me towards the good goal is being doubled. Severely ailing physically, I am of a fresh mind and in my soul at least just as much full of confidence as in my youth. I am not foolish enough to deny to myself that I am regarded as an outcast, cast out from the church, society, and literature. One person will start bashing at me, because he regards me as a Catholic or even Jesuit in disguise; another one will reach for the cudgel, because he thinks that I was still secretly a Protestant. Do you think that those two would manage to pledge their allegiance exclusively to whomever they happen to get the most thorough thrashing from at any given time? That I am regarded as socially dead, I do not care about. I do not have the slightest reason to be eager to be a part of that society the acquaintance of which I had been forced to make in my times of suffering. By the way, we two old folks, my dear wife and I, are thus perfectly sufficient to one another in respect to world within ourselves, that we would not even be capable to yearn for the "society" of others. And concerning me being cast out from literature, I can also live with that. The path I am on has been taken by no one else before me; I would therefore, even without the hatred directed against me, be forced to be a lonely man. I am furthermore convinced that later, once they will be properly acquainted with me and what I want, a sizable number, perhaps even many, will leave the large crowd, in order to join me. Old paths can lead to nothing more than old, dead treasures. But whoever is searching for new, living treasures, shall also take new, not old, paths. And my path is a new one! The fate of my previous work will only be determined by their worth or worthlessness, by nothing else. If they are any good, they will stay, no matter whether they are presently being praised or condemned. If they are no good, they will disappear, no matter whether they are now rejected or not. And the most important thing is, the person who has their worth or worthlessness under his control is just me alone. No one of my opponents, no matter how powerful and influential he may be in literature, can influence this in even the slightest degree. This sounds proud and boastful, but it is true. These works are collections of sketches, are preliminary exercises, are preparations for what is to come later. If those later things will turn out well, everything by means of which I prepared myself for it will be justified, no matter how or what is being thought and written about it now.

Now, there is only one final remark in respect to the Münchmeyer novels left for me to make. One of my most unrelenting opponents wrote I should by no means fool anybody into believing that a trashy publisher could transform decent novels into indecent ones; this would be a huge job, which nobody would be able to cope with. This gentleman seems to be in the fortunate position to be infinitely far removed from the live and activities of a trashy publisher. First of all, if someone is able to spend the time and effort to write a novel, then someone ought to be much more able to spend the shorter time and lesser effort to change this novel! Secondly, such a change requires by no means as much time and work as my opponent seems to assume. The insertion of a few words is perfectly sufficient to transform a "moral" sheet of printed paper into an "immoral" one. Thirdly, there is more than enough manpower for such changes available, and they have such an astonishing routine in it that even an insider is amazed by the the amount they can cope with. I have supplied evidence to this and will supply even more. Walther, the frequently mentioned factotum, sat at Münchmeyers' every day, from early in the morning until in the evening, only doing these kinds of work, and then reading the proofs, which the author never got to see. The evidence given first by Fischer, who had bought the Münchmeyers' business, and a few years later by his heirs, in a material manner and in court, on these adaptations of my novels, is well known. Concerning this, Münchmeyer's nephew, who had been the head pressman, had confirmed as a witness in the trial that Münchmeyer had personally altered entire chapters. Another witness had testified under oath that Münchmeyer had confessed to him that he was making large, extensive changes to my novels, he would better not tell me anything about. I suppose, I do not need to list here even more examples, which are available to me, to make you comprehend why I am absolutely demanding to be presented with my original manuscripts, which surely would carry a so very different weight as evidence than the fading memory of an old typesetter, who, after thirty years, is expected to find his way around through the mess of Münchmeyer's letter-cases of that time. Furthermore, these changes often stand out thus sharply from my original text, that very numerous readers are assuring me that they could say very precisely where the forgery begins and where it ends.

Finally, I cannot neglect drawing your attention to a trick of my opponents, and of Mr. Lebius in particular, which is being employed to cause those of my readers who belong to the higher classes to be outraged against me. They would write, for instance, in an eye-catching place, that I was socialising with the high society of Dresden and that I would quite generally make the greatest effort to obtain the acquaintance of high-ranking people. Not a single word, not a single letter of this is true. When I am by myself, I feel most comfortable, and I also wish, in this respect, for nothing else than to remain by myself. I would like to see that person who would want to prove to me that I had forced my company on him! In other places, it has been stated emphatically, that I was a regular guest at "courts". This is even more decisively untrue. If some aristocrat, who might belong to some "court", would read my books and occasionally exchange a few words with me, I would be the very last person to interpret this as me being a "regular at court". Behind these statements, which are pure fiction, there can only be the intention, to give me, in those circles, the reputation of a indiscrete person or even a liar, and to harm me even there, where I am absolutely not to be found. - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In the end of this volume, I am returning to the beginning, to my old, dear fable of "Sitara", I had started with. Not much time will pass, before this fable will be known as the truth, and even as the most tangible there is. It is the task of the present century, which has just started, to enable our untrained eyes to see the great, exalted symbolism of daily life and to bring us to the bliss giving and uplifting realisation that there are higher and more undeniable realities than those with which the workdays and weekdays keep us busy. The sketches I drew and published shall serve to prepare for this realisation. Therefore, they are written in a symbolic manner and only have to be interpreted allegorically, if they are to be understood. One would think that it is quite amazing that this seems to be so hard for the common reader. It should not be too much of a hard nut to crack, to figure out something when reading a parable. When I refer to Ardistan as the land of the ethically low and Jinnistan as the land of the high, nobly thinking people, it could not require an almost academic education to see what I mean when I describe a journey from Ardistan to Jinnistan. The reader simply has to transport himself in his imagination from his world of weekdays into my world of Sundays, and this, I would think, is surely not harder for him than to leave his workshop every Sunday, in order to go to church at the sound of the bells.

Just as going to church this way frees a person from earthly pressures, I want to free the inner part of my readers from the external pressure by means of my tales. They shall hear bells ringing. They shall sense and experience how a prisoner feels who hears the locks clanging, because the day has come when he is being released. It is is just as easy to understand my books and to comprehend their contents, as it is easy to interpret this imprisonment allegorically. I want my readers to stop regarding life as a merely material existence. This view is a prison for them, beyond the walls of which they are unable to see, to behold the sunny, free, wide land. They are prisoners, but I want to free them. And in seeking to free them, I am freeing myself, because I am also not free, but rather imprisoned since a long, long time ago. At that time, when I was living in prison, I was free. There, I lived protected by the walls. There, everyone stepping into my cell came with good and honest intentions. There, nobody was allowed to touch me. There, nobody was allowed to disturb the development of my inner self. No villain had me in his power. Whatever I possessed and whatever I obtained was my sure and inalienable property, until I - - was released, not for a moment longer! For when I was released, I lost my freedom and my human rights. What others who only know how to talk in materialistic terms refer to as freedom has been a prison to me, a labour camp, a penitentiary, in which I have been languishing by now for thirty-six years, without finding a single person, aside from my present wife, I would have been able to talk to, as I used to talk to that unforgettable Catholic Bible teacher. I have not lived and worked for myself, but only for others. Whatever I obtained, I have been defrauded out of. Whatever savings I made, have been stolen from me. Any given person was allowed to do with me whatever he pleased, for everywhere he found a lawyer taking his case. Any given person was allowed to suspect me, insult me, bash away at me, for everywhere there was an article of law protecting him. I had to conduct lawsuits for six years for the sake of my property, and when I had won the trial, this did not mean by a long shot that I would have received anything, and I was put under preliminary investigation for perjury for twenty-two months. By now, I am already conducting lawsuits for almost ten years, and still, I have no result. The law does not want to have it any other way. But in the meantime, I have been like a prison inmate, who may be flogged, hurt, and tortured by everybody however he may please, if he only succeeds in arming himself with one of those articles of law, which are the ideals of all "resolute" lawyers. Yes indeed, I am a captive, a prison inmate, even now! A dozen lawsuits have detained me, so that by no means I would be able to escape, and everybody who wanted money from me, but did not get any, has behaved like a disciplinarian and has been bashing away at me. I have wanted the best for all of those I write for, their internal and external wellbeing, their present and their future happiness. What have I been given for this good intentions of mine? Scorn, mockery, and sarcasm! When I was a prison inmate, I was no prisoner. And now that I am it no more, I am it still. Why?

And you are laughing about me writing allegorically? Are not even hell and purgatory allegories to us, who are the poorest of them all? Where is a hell, if not in yourselves? And where is purgatory, if not in ourselves? I am talking about this purgatory when I am symbolically telling the story of my "spirits' furnace", the terrible time of which I will have overcome today or tomorrow. I hold no grudge against you, for I know it had to be this way. It had been my task to bear every heavy load and to taste every bitterness, which was to be borne and tasted here; I have to use this in my work now. I am not embittered, because I know my guilt. And what others had been forced to do to me, I do not hold against them. I am just asking for that one thing: Finally, finally, let me have the time to start this work!

Now that my life's hard work is all quite done, Just leisure is what old age shall be bringing. And what perhaps I will still look upon With harp and psaltry I will still be singing. I gave you all I got from God above, Not for myself, among you I've been living. And when you're giving hatred for my love, I'll be content with these thanks you are giving.

Now that my life's hard pains are all quiet done, To soothe my grief on God I am depending. And what might still on me will come upon He shall, in me, lead to a joyous ending. The guilt you burdened me with heavily, Was partially not my own, I must be saying. The worldly thoughts on this which stir in me, I'll gladly hide, except when I am praying.

Now that my life's hard test is all quiet done, The Lord's own verdict I might soon be hearing, Which way on me He might decide upon It's my salvation, nothing I'd be fearing. I cheer. From dungeons I will be set free; At last, this prison's ties He'll sever. Farewell! And he who still will misjudge me Might just as well go on, hate me for ever!

The End.