Blessed shade of a beloved sister! The sacrifice of my adverse and dreadful fate! Thee could I never avenge! Thee could the blood of Weingarten never appease! No asylum, however sacred, should have secured him, had he not sought that last of asylums for human wickedness and human woes—the grave! To thee do I dedicate these few pages, a tribute of thankfulness; and, if future rewards there are, may the brightest of these rewards be thine. For us, and not for ours, may rewards be expected from monarchs who, in apathy, have beheld our mortal sufferings. Rest, noble soul, murdered though thou wert by the enemies of thy brother. Again my blood boils, again my tears roll down my cheeks, when I remember thee, thy sufferings in my cause, and thy untimely end! I knew it not; I sought to thank thee; I found thee in the grave; I would have made retribution to thy children, but unjust, iron-hearted princes had deprived me of the power. Can the virtuous heart conceive affliction more cruel? My own ills I would have endured with magnanimity; but thine are wrongs I have neither the power to forget nor heal.

Enough of this.—

The worthy Emperor, Francis I., shed tears when I afterwards had the honour of relating to him in person my past miseries; I beheld them flow, and gratitude threw me at his feet. His emotion was so great that he tore himself away. I left the palace with all the enthusiasm of soul which such a scene must inspire.

He probably would have done more than pitied me, but his death soon followed. I relate this incident to convince posterity that Francis I. possessed a heart worthy an emperor, worthy a man. In the knowledge I have had of monarchs he stands alone. Frederic and Theresa both died without doing me justice; I am now too old, too proud, have too much apathy, to expect it from their successors. Petition I will not, knowing my rights; and justice from courts of law, however evident my claims, were in these courts vain indeed to expect. Lawyers and advocates I know but too well, and an army to support my rights I have not.

What heart that can feel but will pardon me these digressions! At the exact and simple recital of facts like these, the whole man must be roused, and the philosopher himself shudder.

Once more:—I heard nothing of what had happened for some days; at length, however, it was the honest Gelfhardt’s turn to mount guard; but the ports being doubled, and two additional grenadiers placed before my door, explanation was exceedingly difficult. He, however, in spite of precaution, found means to inform me of what had happened to his two unfortunate comrades.

The King came to a review at Magdeburg, when he visited Star-Fort, and commanded a new cell to be immediately made, prescribing himself the kind of irons by which I was to be secured. The honest Gelfhardt heard the officer say this cell was meant for me, and gave me notice of it, but assured me it could not be ready in less than a month. I therefore determined, as soon as possible, to complete my breach in the wall, and escape without the aid of any one. The thing was possible; for I had twisted the hair of my mattress into a rope, which I meant to tie to a cannon, and descend the rampart, after which I might endeavour to swim across the Elbe, gain the Saxon frontiers, and thus safely escape.

On the 26th of May I had determined to break into the next casemate; but when I came to work at the bricks, I found them so hard and strongly cemented that I was obliged to defer the labour till the following day. I left off, weary and spent, at daybreak, and should any one enter my dungeon, they must infallibly discover the breach. How dreadful is the destiny by which, through life, I have been persecuted, and which has continually plunged me headlong into calamity, when I imagined happiness was at hand!

The 27th of May was a cruel day in the history of my life. My cell in the Star-Fort had been finished sooner than Gelfhardt had supposed; and at night, when I was preparing to fly, I heard a carriage stop before my prison. O God! what was my terror, what were the horrors of this moment of despair! The locks and bolts resounded, the doors flew open, and the last of my poor remaining resources was to conceal my knife. The town-major, the major of the day, and a captain entered; I saw them by the light of their two lanterns. The only words they spoke were, “Dress yourself,” which was immediately done. I still wore the uniform of the regiment of Cordova. Irons were given me, which I was obliged myself to fasten on my wrists and ankles; the town-major tied a bandage over my eyes, and, taking me under the arm, they thus conducted me to the carriage. It was necessary to pass through the city to arrive at the Star-Fort; all was silent, except the noise of the escort; but when we entered Magdeburg I heard the people running, who were crowding together to obtain a sight of me. Their curiosity was raised by the report that I was going to be beheaded. That I was executed on this occasion in the Star-Fort, after having been conducted blindfold through the city, has since been both affirmed and written; and the officers had then orders to propagate this error that the world might remain in utter ignorance concerning me. I, indeed, knew otherwise, though I affected not to have this knowledge; and, as I was not gagged, I behaved as if I expected death, reproached my conductors in language that even made them shudder, and painted their King in his true colours, as one who, unheard, had condemned an innocent subject by a despotic exertion of power.

My fortitude was admired, at the moment when it was supposed I thought myself leading to execution. No one replied, but their sighs intimated their compassion; certain it is, few Prussians willingly execute such commands. The carriage at length stopped, and I was brought into my new cell. The bandage was taken from my eyes. The dungeon was lighted by a few torches. God of heaven! what were my feelings when I beheld the whole floor covered with chains, a fire-pan, and two grim men standing with their smiths’ hammers!

* * * * *

To work went these engines of despotism! Enormous chains were fixed to my ankle at one end, and at the other to a ring which was incorporated in the wall. This ring was three feet from the ground, and only allowed me to move about two or three feet to the right and left. They next riveted another huge iron ring, of a hand’s breadth, round my naked body, to which hung a chain, fixed into an iron bar as thick as a man’s arm. This bar was two feet in length, and at each end of it was a handcuff. The iron collar round my neck was not added till the year 1756.

* * * * *

No soul bade me good night. All retired in dreadful silence; and I heard the horrible grating of four doors, that were successively locked and bolted upon me!

Thus does man act by his fellow, knowing him to be innocent, having received the commands of another man so to act.

O God! Thou alone knowest how my heart, void as it was of guilt, beat at this moment. There sat I, destitute, alone, in thick darkness, upon the bare earth, with a weight of fetters insupportable to nature, thanking Thee that these cruel men had not discovered my knife, by which my miseries might yet find an end. Death is a last certain refuge that can indeed bid defiance to the rage of tyranny. What shall I say? How shall I make the reader feel as I then felt? How describe my despondency, and yet account for that latent impulse that withheld my hand on this fatal, this miserable night?

This misery I foresaw was not of short duration; I had heard of the wars that were lately broken out between Austria and Prussia. Patiently to wait their termination, amid sufferings and wretchedness such as mine, appeared impossible, and freedom even then was doubtful. Sad experience had I had of Vienna, and well I knew that those who had despoiled me of my property most anxiously would endeavour to prevent my return. Such were my meditations! such my night thoughts! Day at length returned; but where was its splendour? Fled! I beheld it not; yet was its glimmering obscurity sufficient to show me what was my dungeon.

In breadth it was about eight feet; in length, ten. Near me once more stood a night-table; in a corner was a seat, four bricks broad, on which I might sit, and recline against the wall. Opposite the ring to which I was fastened, the light was admitted through a semi-circular aperture, one foot high, and two in diameter. This aperture ascended to the centre of the wall, which was six feet thick, and at this central part was a close iron grating, from which, outward, the aperture descended, and its two extremities were again secured by strong iron bars. My dungeon was built in the ditch of the fortification, and the aperture by which the light entered was so covered by the wall of the rampart that, instead of finding immediate passage, the light only gained admission by reflection. This, considering the smallness of the aperture, and the impediments of grating and iron bars, must needs make the obscurity great; yet my eyes, in time, became so accustomed to this glimmering that I could see a mouse run. In winter, however, when the sun did not shine into the ditch, it was eternal night with me. Between the bars and the grating was a glass window, most curiously formed, with a small central casement, which might be opened to admit the air. My night-table was daily removed, and beside me stood a jug of water. The name of TRENCK was built in the wall, in red brick, and under my feet was a tombstone with the name of TRENCK also cut on it, and carved with a death’s head. The doors to my dungeon were double, of oak, two inches thick; without these was an open space or front cell, in which was a window, and this space was likewise shut in by double doors. The ditch, in which this dreadful den was built, was enclosed on both sides by palisades, twelve feet high, the key of the door of which was entrusted to the officer of the guard, it being the King’s intention to prevent all possibility of speech or communication with the sentinels. The only motion I had the power to make was that of jumping upward, or swinging my arms to procure myself warmth. When more accustomed to these fetters, I became capable of moving from side to side, about four feet; but this pained my shin-bones.

The cell had been finished with lime and plaster but eleven days, and everybody supposed it would be impossible I should exist in these damps above a fortnight. I remained six months, continually immersed in very cold water, that trickled upon me from the thick arches under which I was; and I can safely affirm that, for the first three months, I was never dry; yet did I continue in health. I was visited daily, at noon, after relieving guard, and the doors were then obliged to be left open for some minutes, otherwise the dampness of the air put out their candles.

This was my situation, and here I sat, destitute of friends, helplessly wretched, preyed on by all the torture of thought that continually suggested the most gloomy, the most horrid, the most dreadful of images. My heart was not yet wholly turned to stone; my fortitude was sunken to despondency; my dungeon was the very cave of despair; yet was my arm restrained, and this excess of misery endured.

How then may hope be wholly eradicated from the heart of man? My fortitude, after some time, began to revive; I glowed with the desire of convincing the world I was capable of suffering what man had never suffered before; perhaps of at last emerging from this load of wretchedness triumphant over my enemies. So long and ardently did my fancy dwell on this picture, that my mind at length acquired a heroism which Socrates himself certainly never possessed. Age had benumbed his sense of pleasure, and he drank the poisonous draught with cool indifference; but I was young, inured to high hopes, yet now beholding deliverance impossible, or at an immense, a dreadful distance. Such, too, were the other sufferings of soul and body, I could not hope they might be supported and live.

About noon my den was opened. Sorrow and compassion were painted on the countenances of my keepers. No one spoke; no one bade me good morrow. Dreadful indeed was their arrival; for, unaccustomed to the monstrous bolts and bars, they were kept resounding for a full half-hour before such soul-chilling, such hope-murdering impediments were removed. It was the voice of tyranny that thundered.

My night-table was taken out, a camp-bed, mattress, and blankets were brought me; a jug of water set down, and beside it an ammunition loaf of six pounds’ weight. “That you may no more complain of hunger,” said the town-major, “you shall have as much bread as you can eat.” The door was shut, and I again left to my thoughts.

What a strange thing is that called happiness! How shall I express my extreme joy when, after eleven months of intolerable hunger, I was again indulged with a full feast of coarse ammunition bread? The fond lover never rushed more eagerly to the arias of his expecting bride, the famished tiger more ravenously on his prey, than I upon this loaf. I ate, rested; surveyed the precious morsel; ate again; and absolutely shed tears of pleasure. Breaking bit after bit, I had by evening devoured all my loaf.

Oh, Nature! what delight hast thou combined with the gratification of thy wants! Remember this, ye who gorge, ye who rack invention to excite appetite, and yet which you cannot procure! Remember how simple are the means that will give a crust of mouldy bread a flavour more exquisite than all the spices of the East, or all the profusion of land or sea! Remember this, grow hungry, and indulge your sensuality.

Alas! my enjoyment was of short duration. I soon found that excess is followed by pain and repentance. My fasting had weakened digestion, and rendered it inactive. My body swelled, my water-jug was emptied; cramps, colics, and at length inordinate thirst racked me all the night. I began to pour curses on those who seemed to refine on torture, and, after starving me so long, to invite me to gluttony. Could I not have reclined on my bed, I should indeed have been driven, this night, to desperation; yet even this was but a partial relief; for, not yet accustomed to my enormous fetters, I could not extend myself in the same manner I was afterwards taught to do by habit. I dragged them, however, so together as to enable me to sit down on the bare mattress. This, of all my nights of suffering, stands foremost. When they opened my dungeon next day they found me in a truly pitiable situation, wondered at my appetite, brought me another loaf; I refused to accept it, believing I nevermore should have occasion for bread; they, however, left me one, gave me water, shrugged up their shoulders, wished me farewell, as, according to all appearance, they never expected to find me alive, and shut all the doors, without asking whether I wished or needed further assistance.

Three days had passed before I could again eat a morsel of bread; and my mind, brave in health, now in a sick body became pusillanimous, so that I determined on death. The irons, everywhere round my body, and their weight, were insupportable; nor could I imagine it was possible I should habituate myself to them, or endure them long enough to expect deliverance. Peace was a very distant prospect. The King had commanded that such a prison should be built as should exclude all necessity of a sentinel, in order that I might not converse with and seduce them from what is called their duty: and, in the first days of despair, deliverance appeared impossible; and the fetters, the war, the pain I felt, the place, the length of time, each circumstance seemed equally impossible to support. A thousand reasons convinced me it was necessary to end my sufferings. I shall not enter into theological disputes: let those who blame me imagine themselves in my situation; or rather let them first actually endure my miseries, and then let them reason. I had often braved death in prosperity, and at this moment it seemed a blessing.

Full of these meditations, every minute’s patience appeared absurdity, and resolution meanness of soul; yet I wished my mind should be satisfied that reason, and not rashness, had induced the act. I therefore determined, that I might examine the question coolly, to wait a week longer, and die on the fourth of July. In the meantime I revolved in my mind what possible means there were of escape, not fearing, naked and chained, to rush and expire on the bayonets of my enemies.

The next day I observed, as the four doors were opened, that they were only of wood, therefore questioned whether I might not even cut off the locks with the knife that I had so fortunately concealed: and should this and every other means fail, then would be the time to die. I likewise determined to make an attempt to free myself of my chains. I happily forced my right hand through the handcuff, though the blood trickled from my nails. My attempts on the left were long ineffectual; but by rubbing with a brick, which I got from my seat, on the rivet that had been negligently closed, I effected this also.

The chain was fastened to the run round my body by a hook, one end of which was not inserted in the rim; therefore, by setting my foot against the wall, I had strength enough so far to bend this hook back, and open it, as to force out the link of the chain. The remaining difficulty was the chain that attached my foot to the wall: the links of this I took, doubled, twisted, and wrenched, till at length, nature having bestowed on me great strength, I made a desperate effort, sprang forcibly up, and two links at once flew off.

Fortunate, indeed, did I think myself: I hastened to the door, groped in the dark to find the clinkings of the nails by which the lock was fastened, and discovered no very large piece of wood need be cut. Immediately I went to work with my knife, and cut through the oak door to find its thickness, which proved to be only one inch, therefore it was possible to open all the four doors in four-and-twenty hours.

Again hope revived in my heart. To prevent detection I hastened to put on my chains; but, O God! what difficulties had I to surmount! After much groping about, I at length found the link that had flown off; this I hid: it being my good fortune hitherto to escape examination, as the possibility of ridding myself of such chains was in nowise suspected. The separated iron links I tied together with my hair ribbon; but when I again endeavoured to force my hand into the ring, it was so swelled that every effort was fruitless. The whole might was employed upon the rivet, but all labour was in vain.

Noon was the hour of visitation, and necessity and danger again obliged me to attempt forcing my hand in, which at length, after excruciating torture, I effected. My visitors came, and everything had the appearance of order. I found it, however, impossible to force out my right hand while it continued swelled.

I therefore remained quiet till the day fixed, and on the determined fourth of July, immediately as my visitors had closed the doors upon me, I disencumbered myself of my irons, took my knife, and began my Herculean labour on the door. The first of the double doors that opened inwards was conquered in less than an hour; the other was a very different task. The lock was soon cut round, but it opened outwards; there was therefore no other means left but to cut the whole door away above the bar.

Incessant and incredible labour made this possible, though it was the more difficult as everything was to be done by feeling, I being totally in the dark; the sweat dropped, or rather flowed, from my body; my fingers were clotted in my own blood, and my lacerated hands were one continued wound.

Daylight appeared: I clambered over the door that was half cut away, and got up to the window in the space or cell that was between the double doors, as before described. Here I saw my dungeon was in the ditch of the first rampart: before me I beheld the road from the rampart, the guard but fifty paces distant, and the high palisades that were in the ditch, and must be scaled before I could reach the rampart. Hope grew stronger; my efforts were redoubled. The first of the next double doors was attacked, which likewise opened inward, and was soon conquered. The sun set before I had ended this, and the fourth was to be cut away as the second had been. My strength failed; both my hands were raw; I rested awhile, began again, and had made a cut of a foot long, when my knife snapped, and the broken blade dropped to the ground!

God of Omnipotence! what was I at this moment? Was there, God of Mercies! was there ever creature of Thine more justified than I in despair? The moon shone very clear; I cast a wild and distracted look up to heaven, fell on my knees, and in the agony of my soul sought comfort: but no comfort could be found; nor religion nor philosophy had any to give. I cursed not Providence, I feared not annihilation, I dared not Almighty vengeance; God the Creator was the disposer of my fate; and if He heaped afflictions upon me He had not given me strength to support, His justice would not therefore punish me. To Him, the Judge of the quick and dead, I committed my soul, seized the broken knife, gashed through the veins of my left arm and foot, sat myself tranquilly down, and saw the blood flow. Nature, overpowered fainted, and I know not how long I remained, slumbering, in this state. Suddenly I heard my own name, awoke, and again heard the words, “Baron Trenck!” My answer was, “Who calls?” And who indeed was it—who but my honest grenadier Gelfhardt—my former faithful friend in the citadel! The good, the kind fellow had got upon the rampart, that he might comfort me.

“How do you do?” said Gelfhardt. “Weltering in my blood,” answered I; “to-morrow you will find me dead.”—“Why should you die?” replied he. “It is much easier for you to escape here than from the citadel! Here is no sentinel, and I shall soon find means to provide you with tools; if you can only break out, leave the rest to me. As often as I am on guard, I will seek opportunity to speak to you. In the whole Star-Fort, there are but two sentinels: the one at the entrance, and the other at the guard-house. Do not despair; God will succour you; trust to me.” The good man’s kindness and discourse revived my hopes: I saw the possibility of an escape. A secret joy diffused itself through my soul. I immediately tore my shirt, bound up my wounds, and waited the approach of day; and the sun soon after shone through the window, to me, with unaccustomed brightness.

Let the reader judge how far it was chance, or the effect of Divine providence, that in this dreadful hour my heart again received hope. Who was it sent the honest Gelfhardt, at such a moment, to my prison? For, had it not been for him, I had certainly, when I awoke from my slumbers, cut more effectually through my arteries.

Till noon I had time to consider what might further be done: yet what could be done, what expected, but that I should now be much more cruelly treated, and even more insupportably ironed than before—finding, as they must, the doors cut through and my fetters shaken off?

After mature consideration, I therefore made the following resolution, which succeeded happily, and even beyond my hopes. Before I proceed, however, I will speak a few words concerning my situation at this moment. It is impossible to describe how much I was exhausted. The prison swam with blood; and certainly but little was left in my body. With painful wounds, swelled and torn hands, I there stood shirtless, felt an inclination to sleep almost irresistible, and scarcely had strength to keep my legs, yet was I obliged to rouse myself, that I might execute my plan.

With the bar that separated my hands, I loosened the bricks of my seat, which, being newly laid, was easily done, and heaped them up in the middle of my prison. The inner door was quite open, and with my chains I so barricaded the upper half of the second as to prevent any one climbing over it. When noon came and the first of the doors was unlocked, all were astonished to find the second open. There I stood, besmeared with blood, the picture of horror, with a brick in one hand, and in the other my broken knife, crying, as they approached, “Keep off, Mr. Major, keep off! Tell the governor I will live no longer in chains, and that here I stand, if so he pleases, to be shot; for so only will I be conquered. Here no man shall enter—I will destroy all that approach; here are my weapons; lucre will I die in despite of tyranny.” The major was terrified, wanted resolution, and made his report to the governor. I meantime sat down on my bricks, to wait what might happen: my secret intent, however, was not so desperate as it appeared. I sought only to obtain a favourable capitulation.

The governor, General Borck, presently came, attended by the town-major and some officers, and entered the outward cell, but sprang back the moment he beheld a figure like me, standing with a brick and uplifted arm. I repeated what I had told the major, and he immediately ordered six grenadiers to force the door. The front cell was scarcely six feet broad, so that no more than two at a time could attack my intrenchment, and when they saw my threatening bricks ready to descend, they leaped terrified back. A short pause ensued, and the old town-major, with the chaplain, advanced towards the door to soothe me: the conversation continued some time: whose reasons were most satisfactory, and whose cause was the most just, I leave to the reader. The governor grew angry, and ordered a fresh attack. The first grenadier was knocked down, and the rest ran back to avoid my missiles.

The town-major again began a parley. “For God’s sake, my dear Trenck,” said he, “in what have I injured you, that you endeavour to effect my ruin? I must answer for your having, through my negligence, concealed a knife. Be persuaded, I entreat you. Be appeased. You are not without hope, nor without friends.” My answer was—“But will you not load me with heavier irons than before?”

He went out, spoke with the governor, and gave me his word of honour that the affair should be no further noticed, and that everything should be exactly reinstated as formerly.

Here ended the capitulation, and my wretched citadel was taken. The condition I was in was viewed with pity; my wounds were examined, a surgeon sent to dress them, another shirt was given me, and the bricks, clotted with blood, removed. I, meantime, lay half dead on my mattress; my thirst was excessive. The surgeon ordered me some wine. Two sentinels were stationed in the front cell, and I was thus left four days in peace, unironed. Broth also was given me daily, and how delicious this was to taste, how much it revived and strengthened me, is wholly impossible to describe. Two days I lay in a slumbering kind of trance, forced by unquenchable thirst to drink whenever I awoke. My feet and hands were swelled; the pains in my back and limbs were excessive.

On the fifth day the doors were ready; the inner was entirely plated with iron, and I was fettered as before: perhaps they found further cruelty unnecessary. The principal chain, however, which fastened me to the wall, like that I had before broken, was thicker than the first. Except this, the capitulation was strictly kept. They deeply regretted that, without the King’s express commands, they could not lighten my afflictions, wished me fortitude and patience, and barred up my doors.

It is necessary I should here describe my dress. My hands being fixed and kept asunder by an iron bar, and my feet chained to the wall, I could neither put on shirt nor stockings in the usual mode; the shirt was therefore tied, and changed once a fortnight; the coarse ammunition stockings were buttoned on the sides; a blue garment, of soldier’s cloth, was likewise tied round me, and I had a pair of slippers for my feet. The shirt was of the army linen; and when I contemplated myself in this dress of a malefactor, chained thus to the wall in such a dungeon, vainly imploring mercy or justice, my conscience void of reproach, my heart of guilt—when I reflected on my former splendour in Berlin and Moscow, and compared it with this sad, this dreadful reverse of destiny, I was sunk in grief, or roused to indignation, that might have hurried the greatest hero or philosopher to madness or despair. I felt what can only be imagined by him who has suffered like me, after having like me flourished, if such can be found.

Pride, the justness of my cause, the unbounded confidence I had in my own resolution, and the labours of an inventive head and iron body—these only could have preserved my life. These bodily labours, these continued inventions, and projected plans to obtain my freedom, preserved my health. Who would suppose that a man fettered as I was could find means of exercising himself? By swinging my arms, acting with the upper part of my body, and leaping upwards, I frequently put myself in a strong perspiration. After thus wearying myself I slept soundly, and often thought how many generals, obliged to support the inclemencies of weather, and all the dangers of the field—how many of those who had plunged me into this den of misery, would have been most glad could they, like me, have slept with a quiet conscience. Often did I reflect how much happier I was than those tortured on the bed of sickness by gout, stone, and other terrible diseases. How much happier was I in innocence than the malefactor doomed to suffer the pangs of death, the ignominy of men, and the horrors of internal guilt!