in this new and more sumptuous abode, which we are told was seven
feet in length, and bore at its upper end the name

SCHILLER

in letters of cast-iron. That same afternoon Goethe went himself to
the library and expressed his satisfaction with all that had been
done.

At last, on December 16th, 1827, at half-past five in the morning, a
few persons again met at the same place. The Grand Duke had
desired--for what reason we know not--to avoid observation; it was
Schiller's fate that his remains should be carried hither and hither
by stealth and in the night. Some tapers burned around the bier:
the recesses of the hall were in darkness. Not a word was spoken,
but those present bent for an instant in silent prayer, on which the
bearers raised the coffin and carried it away. They walked along
through the park: the night was cold and cloudy: some of the party
had lanterns. When they reached the avenue that led up to the
cemetery, the moon shone out as she had done twenty-two years
before. At the vault itself some other friends had assembled,
amongst whom was the Mayor. Ere the lid was finally secured,
Schwabe placed himself at the head of the coffin, and recognised the
skull to be that which he had rescued from the Kassengewolbe. The
sarcophagus having then been closed, and a laurel wreath laid on it,
formal possession, in the name of the Grand Duke, was taken by the
Marshal, Freiherr von Spiegel. The key was removed to be kept in
possession of his Excellency, the Geheimrath von Goethe, as head of
the Institutions for Art and Science. This key, in an envelope,
addressed by Goethe, is said to be preserved in the Grand Ducal