The spring of 1859 brought Jakob Weidmann a fortune that existed nowhere save in the speech of Anna Leuthold. She came to inform him that a wealthy colonel named Kunz desired to bestow upon him an estate worth fifteen thousand florins, subsequently intimating that the largesse might extend as far as seventy thousand francs. To secure this domain, it was required only that he display a token of confidence: beginning with an advance of one hundred francs to the courier.
Weidmann resided at Unterembrach, near Zurich. He held a modest farmstead, had six children to rear, and served secondarily as a drill instructor for the militia recruits. Side by side with his wife, he had husbanded his resources for years. His sister-in-law, Frau Boller, was giving lodging to Anna Leuthold—then claiming to be an invalid—and spoke openly of the munificence Colonel Kunz had reportedly lavished upon her own kin. When Leuthold arrived at the Weidmann house in a handsome carriage, escorted by the Bollers, their account appeared to carry its own confirmation.
The name of Kunz commanded awe. The manufacturer, who passed away in August 1859, was accounted one of the wealthiest men in the Swiss Confederation. The Pitaval notes that common rumour attributed his fortune to the possession of an “alraun,” a magical familiar said to generate gold. Leuthold engrafted her own variant onto this superstition: her daughter was Kunz’s godchild, she affirmed, and shared his millions with deserving households. It was no commerce with the devil she offered Weidmann, but the favour of a magnate powerful enough to elevate a modest husbandman to a man of property.
She instructed him first to select a farm for purchase. The estate of Dr. Schäppi took his fancy, but its proprietor demanded seventy thousand francs. Leuthold soon wrote that she had obtained the sum. The missive, bearing the signature “Oberst Kunz,” expressed gratitude for the hundred francs and promised yet another domain should the farmer continue his assistance. The selfsame benefactor was invoked at every subsequent appeal for funds.
Weidmann’s wife was distrustful. These heralded gifts seemed unprovoked by any cause, and she feared her husband was entangling himself in an affair from which he could never emerge. But the Bollers corroborated every tale. Their own household was said to have received ten thousand francs, a pianoforte, and fine bedsteads; their children, settled annuities and chattels. They too, so they maintained, had been put to the proof by an initial small disbursement. Leuthold well knew that each convinced witness would serve as surety for the next.
The solicitations followed in rapid succession. Following the first hundred francs, Leuthold required thirty-five, then one hundred and fifty, sixty, and two hundred and fifty. The money was destined, now for the colonel’s ailing daughter, now for a cure that none but “pure” funds could effect. When Weidmann wavered, she declared that the colonel would withdraw his favour should the farmer falter at the impending trial. He borrowed from a neighbour, then from others still. In early June, she prevailed upon him to lay down his post as instructor: the promised land and the twelve beds commissioned by Kunz would shortly make an independent man of him.
On June 13, the colonel was to dine at the Weidmann table and deliver the capital. When the day came, Leuthold arrived alone, bearing a tureen, six cups, and a jar of honey. Kunz had been detained by grave affairs, she explained; he required a further six hundred francs. The household appointments for the repast lent the engagement a semblance of truth. Weidmann, ashamed to weep in her presence, delivered up all he had been able to raise on credit.
The visitations persisted throughout the summer. Leuthold went so far as to point out a house which she claimed was a gift from the colonel. She held forth on millions bequeathed to the Freemasons, of Kunz’s daughter languishing in Berne, of her imminent recovery, and of benefactions that would arrive once the next charge was met. The letters attributed to Kunz commended Weidmann for his devotion and solicited yet another remittance. His wife decried these promises; the Bollers upheld them. As his debts mounted, the farmer concealed the matter from his kinsfolk and lost his sleep.
A second drama was unfolding in Zurich. For years, Leuthold had consulted practitioners for infirmities she knew how to simulate at will. She succeeded in deceiving fifteen physicians, including hospital clinicians, before an examination conducted under strict surveillance exposed the artifice.
Among those attending her was a young medical man, Dr. Karl Aichner. Leuthold confided to him that she had a daughter, Babette, an heiress to thirty millions, sponsored by Colonel Kunz. She offered to plead his suit for her hand and promised to help dissolve the betrothal he had already contracted with a maiden of his native village. Aichner protested that his betrothed was an upright girl and that her father had defrayed the charges of his studies; nevertheless, the prospect of such wealth bore down his scruples.
Epistles from “Babette Zollinger” began to arrive, breathing tenderness and laden with postponed rendezvous. At St. Gallen, then at Berne and Thun, Aichner waited for a young lady who never appeared. Leuthold alleged a rival suitor, an attack of illness, the journeys of the godfather, a theft of specie, or a mischance of the electric telegraph. When Anna Messerschmid finally presented herself, arrayed in silks and jewels, she enacted the part of Leuthold’s daughter and Kunz’s godchild. She was, in truth, a seamstress from the environs of Zurich, engaged and outfitted by Leuthold to sustain the farce.
Aichner grew enamoured of her despite the deceit, took her on journeys, and defrayed the cost of hostelries, repasts, and purchases. The Leuthold woman bestowed upon him garments, jewels, and sums of money; he accounted these gifts the bounty of his bride-to-be. The very next day, Messerschmid confessed to him that she was neither daughter to Leuthold nor godchild to Kunz, but a needlewoman hired to portray the heiress. The disclosure threw him into consternation; yet, already attached to her, Aichner plighted his troth anew. Both resolved to take ship for America, so unendurable was the disgrace of remaining in his own country. Leuthold summoned them back to Aarau with promises of an indemnity. She placed in Aichner’s hand a draft for ten thousand francs, paid him seventy in cash, and appointed a meeting at Baden for the balance. The young people waited in vain. Aichner thereafter demanded the funds by letter, and subsequently through a friend charged with an ultimatum; Leuthold replied that an arrest would not be unwelcome, as her daily bread would at least be assured. Aichner continued to anticipate the promised restitution. Only when all hope of reimbursement and departure had vanished did he sever his ties with Messerschmid.
On November 20, 1859, the police apprehended Anna Leuthold and her husband. The clamour of creditors had drawn scrutiny to her expenditures. Weidmann confessed that he had borrowed nearly fourteen thousand francs from more than thirty townsfolk, believing the colonel would discharge the debt. Arrested in his turn, he was released on November 25: the inquiry established that he fully anticipated repayment at the moment he contracted these liabilities. The judicial proceedings proved that Leuthold had converted this capital to her own use, together with moneys and goods from other victims. Her husband had transcribed two of the bogus colonel’s missives and assisted her in certain errands. He pleaded that he had complied solely from dread of his wife’s violent temper.
At the Zurich trial, on January 20 and 21, 1860, Weidmann gave his deposition in a low voice, broken with grief at having brought his family to ruin through sheer credulity. His wife, who had doubted from the first, set forth the false promises and the loans. She believed her husband had feared committing a sin had he refused to succour the colonel and his child. The tales of the Bollers had sustained this persuasion, though their conduct in the affair appeared more ambiguous than that of innocent witnesses.
The charges touching the simulation of illness before twelve physicians were dismissed: the court held that a patient was not legally bound to speak the truth to his medical attendant. The tribunal found Leuthold guilty of fraud against Weidmann and other creditors, as well as of swindling in connection with Aichner’s projected marriage. She was sentenced to ten years’ penal servitude. Jakob Leuthold received eighteen months for his share in the fraud upon Weidmann, assessed at an amount less than that originally charged; Anna Messerschmid was condemned to four weeks for her complicity in the Aichner affair. The Kambli couple were acquitted. Weidmann, who had been ensnared and had acted in good faith regarding repayment when he took up the loans, was acquitted of criminal design; yet he was compelled to surrender his farm and compound with his creditors for a dividend of thirty per cent.
Anna Leuthold died in prison two years later. Dr. Aichner departed for America. And the man who had cast away his post for a homestead that was never bought returned, broken in spirit, to those neighbours whose trust he had solicited.