A maidservant came to the door, whom I knew; her name was Mary, and she
had been born and brought up in my father's house. She was terrified at
seeing a sturdy fellow in a beggar's dress; which perceiving, I asked,
"Molly, do not you know me?" She answered, "No;" and I then discovered
myself to her. I asked whether my brother-in-law was at home. Mary
replied, "Yes; but he is sick in bed." "Tell my sister, then," said I,
"that I am here." She showed me into a room, and my sister presently
came.
She was alarmed at seeing me, not knowing that I had escaped from Glatz,
and ran to inform her husband, but did not return.
A quarter of an hour after the good Mary came weeping, and told us her
master commanded us to quit the premises instantly, or he should be
obliged to have us arrested, and delivered up as prisoners. My sister's
husband forcibly detained her, and I saw her no more.
What my feelings must be, at such a moment, let the reader imagine. I
was too proud, too enraged, to ask money; I furiously left the house,
uttering a thousand menaces against its inhabitants, while the
kind-hearted Mary, still weeping, slipped three ducats into my hand,
which I accepted.
And, now behold us once more in the wood, which was not above a hundred
paces from the house, half dead with hunger and fatigue, not daring to
enter any habitation, while in the states of Brandenburg, and dragging
our weary steps all night through snow and rain, until our guide at
length brought us back, at daybreak, once again to the town of Lettel.
She herself wept in pity at our fate, and I could only give her two
ducats for the danger she had run; but I bade her hope more in future;
and I afterwards sent for her to Vienna, in 1751, where I took great care
of her. She was about fifty years of age, and died my servant in
Hungary, some weeks before my unfortunate journey to Dantzic, where I
fell into my enemies' hands, and remained ten years a prisoner at
Magdeburg.
We had scarcely reached the wood, before, in the anguish of my heart, I
exclaimed to Schell, "Does not such a sister, my friend, deserve I should
fire her house over her head?" The wisdom of moderation, and calm
forbearance, was in Schell a virtue of the highest order; he was my
continual mentor; my guide, whenever my choleric temperament was disposed
to violence. I therefore honour his ashes; he deserved a better fate.
"Friend," said he, on this occasion, "reflect that your sister may be
innocent, may be withheld by her husband; besides, should the King
discover we had entered her doors, and she had not delivered us again
into his power, she might become as miserable as we were. Be more noble
minded, and think that even should your sister be wrong, the time may
come when her children may stand in need of your assistance, and you may
have the indescribable pleasure of returning good for evil."
I never shall forget this excellent advice, which in reality was a
prophecy. My rich brother-in-law died, and, during the Russian war, his
lands and houses were laid desolate and in ruins; and, nineteen years
afterwards, when released from my imprisonment at Magdeburg, I had an
opportunity of serving the children of my sister. Such are the turns of
fate; and thus do improbabilities become facts.
My sister justified her conduct; Schell had conjectured the truth; for
ten years after I was thus expelled her house, she showed, during my
imprisonment, she was really a sister. She was shamefully betrayed by
Weingarten, secretary to the Austrian ambassador at Berlin; lost a part
of her property, and at length her life fell an innocent sacrifice to her
brother.
This event, which is interwoven with my tragical history, will be related
hereafter: my heart bleeds, my very soul shudders, when I recollect this
dreadful scene.
I have not the means fully to recompense her children; and Weingarten,
the just object of vengeance, is long since in the grave; for did he
exist, the earth should not hide him from my sword.
I shall now continue my journal: deceived in the aid I expected, I was
obliged to change my plan, and go to my mother, who lived in Prussia,
nine miles beyond Konigsberg.
Feb. 28.--We continued, tired, anxious, and distressed, at Lettel.
March 1.--We went three miles to Pleese, and on the 2nd, a mile and a
half farther to Meseritz.
March 3.--Through Wersebaum to Birnbaum, three miles.
March 4.--Through Zircke, Wruneck, Obestchow, to Stubnitz, seven miles,
in one day, three of which we had the good fortune to ride.
March 5.--Three miles to Rogosen, where we arrived without so much as a
heller to pay our lodgings. The Jew innkeeper drove us out of his house;
we were obliged to wander all night, and at break of day found we had
strayed two miles out of the road.
We entered a peasant's cottage, where an old woman was drawing bread hot
out of the oven. We had no money to offer, and I felt, at this moment,
the possibility even of committing murder, for a morsel of bread, to
satisfy the intolerable cravings of hunger. Shuddering, with torment
inexpressible, at the thought, I hastened out of the door, and we walked
on two miles more to Wongrofze.
Here I sold my musket for a ducat, which had procured us many a meal:
such was the extremity of our distress. We then satiated our appetites,
after having been forty hours without food or sleep, and having travelled
ten miles in sleet and snow.
March 6.--We rested, and came, on the 7th, through Genin, to a village in
the forest, four miles.
Here we fell in with a gang of gipsies (or rather banditti) amounting to
four hundred men, who dragged me to their camp. They were mostly French
and Prussian deserters, and thinking me their equal, would force me to
become one of their hand. But, venturing to tell my story to their
leader, he presented me with a crown, gave us a small provision of bread
and meat, and suffered us to depart in peace, after having been four and
twenty hours in their company.
March 9.--We proceeded to Lapuschin, three miles and a half; and the 10th
to Thorn, four miles.
A new incident here happened, which showed I was destined, by fortune, to
a variety of adventures, and continually to struggle with new
difficulties.
There was a fair held at Thorn on the day of our arrival. Suspicions
might well arise, among the crowd, on seeing a strong tall young man,
wretchedly clothed, with a large sabre by his side, and a pair of pistols
in his girdle, accompanied by another as poorly apparelled as himself,
with his hand and neck bound up, and armed likewise with pistols, so that
altogether he more resembled a spectre than a man.
We went to an inn, but were refused entertainment: I then asked for the
Jesuits' college, where I inquired for the father rector. They supposed
at first I was a thief, come to seek an asylum. After long waiting and
much entreaty his jesuitical highness at length made his appearance, and
received me as the Grand Mogul would his slave. My case certainly was
pitiable: I related all the events of my life, and the purport of my
journey; conjured him to save Schell, who was unable to proceed further,
and whose wounds grew daily worse; and prayed him to entertain him at the
convent till I should have been to my mother, have obtained money, and
returned to Thorn, when I would certainly repay him whatever expense he
might have been at, with thanks and gratitude.
Never shall I forget the haughty insolence of this priest. Scarcely
would he listen to my humble request; thou'd and interrupted me
continually, to tell me, "Be brief, I have more pressing affairs than
thine." In fine, I was turned away without obtaining the least aid; and
here I was first taught jesuitical pride; God help the poor and honest
man who shall need the assistance of Jesuits! They, like all other
monks, are seared to every sentiment of human pity, and commiserate the
distressed by taunts and irony.
Four times in my life I have sought assistance and advice from convents,
and am convinced it is the duty of every honest man to aid in erasing
them from the face of the earth.
They succour rascals and murderers, that their power may be idolised by
the ignorant, and ostentatiously exert itself to impede the course of law
and justice; but in vain do the poor and needy virtuous apply to them for
help.
The reader will pardon my native hatred of hypocrisy and falsehood,
especially when he hears I have to thank the Jesuits for the loss of all
my great Hungarian estates. Father Kampmuller, the bosom friend of the
Count Grashalkowitz, was confessor to the court of Vienna, and there was
no possible kind of persecution I did not suffer from priestcraft. Far
from being useful members of society, they take advantage of the
prejudices of superstition, exist for themselves alone, and sacrifice
every duty to the support of their own hierarchy, and found a power, on
error and ignorance, which is destructive of all moral virtue.
Let us proceed. Mournful and angry, I left the college, and went to my
lodging-house, where I found a Prussian recruiting-officer waiting for
me, who used all his arts to engage me to enlist; offering me five
hundred dollars, and to make me a corporal, if I could write. I
pretended I was a Livonian, who had deserted from the Austrians, to
return home, and claim an inheritance left me by my father. After much
persuasion, he at length told me in confidence, it was very well known in
the town that I was a robber; that I should soon be taken before a
magistrate, but that if I would enlist he would ensure my safety.
This language was new to me; my passion rose instantaneously; I
remembered my name was Trenck, I struck him, and drew my sword; but,
instead of defending himself, he sprang out of the chamber, charging the
host not to let me quit the house. I knew the town of Thorn had agreed
with the King of Prussia, secretly, to deliver up deserters, and began to
fear the consequences. Looking through the window, I presently saw two
under Prussian officers enter the house. Schell and I instantly flew to
our arms, and met the Prussians at the chamber door. "Make way," cried
I, presenting my pistols. The Prussian soldiers drew their swords, but
retired with fear. Going out of the house, I saw a Prussian lieutenant,
in the street, with the town-guard. These I overawed, likewise, by the
same means, and no one durst oppose me, though every one cried, "Stop
thief!" I came safely, however, to the Jesuits' convent; but poor Schell
was taken, and dragged to prison like a malefactor.
Half mad at not being able to rescue him, I imagined he must soon be
delivered up to the Prussians. My reception was much better at the
convent than it had been before, for they no longer doubted but I was
really a thief, who sought an asylum. I addressed myself to one of the
fathers, who appeared to be a good kind of a man, relating briefly what
had happened, and entreated he would endeavour to discover why they
sought to molest us.
He went out, and returning in an hour after, told me, "Nobody knows you:
a considerable theft was yesterday committed at the fair: all suspicious
persons are seized; you entered the town accoutred like banditti. The
man where you put up is employed as a Prussian enlister, and has
announced you as suspicious people. The Prussian lieutenant therefore
laid complaint against you, and it was thought necessary to secure your
persons."
My joy, at hearing this, was great. Our Moravian passport, and the
journal of our route, which I had in my pocket, were full proofs of our
innocence. I requested they would send and inquire at the town where we
lay the night before. I soon convinced the Jesuit I spoke truth; he
went, and presently returned with one of the syndics, to whom I gave a
more full account of myself. The syndic examined Schell, and found his
story and mine agreed; besides which, our papers that they had seized,
declared who we were. I passed the night in the convent without closing
my eyes, revolving in my mind all the rigours of my fate. I was still
more disturbed for Schell, who knew not where I was, but remained firmly
persuaded we should be conducted to Berlin; and, if so, determined to put
a period to his life.
My doubts were all ended at ten in the morning when my good Jesuit
arrived, and was followed by my friend Schell. The judges, he said, had
found us innocent, and declared us free to go where we pleased; adding,
however, that he advised us to be upon our guard, we being watched by the
Prussian enlisters; that the lieutenant had hoped, by having us committed
as thieves, to oblige me to enter, and that he would account for all that
had happened.
I gave Schell a most affectionate welcome, who had been very ill-used
when led to prison, because he endeavoured to defend himself with his
left hand, and follow me. The people had thrown mud at him, and called
him a rascal that would soon be hanged. Schell was little able to travel
farther. The father-rector sent us a ducat, but did not see us; and the
chief magistrate gave each of us a crown, by way of indemnification for
false imprisonment. Thus sent away, we returned to our lodging, took our
bundles, and immediately prepared to leave Thorn.
As we went, I reflected that, on the road to Elbing, we must pass through
several Prussian villages, and inquired for a shop where we might
purchase a map. We were directed to an old woman who sat at the door
across the way, and were told she had a good assortment, for that her son
was a scholar. I addressed myself to her, and my question pleased her, I
having added we were unfortunate travellers, who wished to find, by the
map, the road to Russia. She showed us into a chamber, laid an atlas on
the table, and placed herself opposite me, while I examined the map, and
endeavoured to hide a bit of a ragged ruffle that had made its
appearance. After steadfastly looking at me, she at length exclaimed,
with a sad and mournful tone--"Good God! who knows what is now become of
my poor son! I can see, sir, you too are of a good family. My son would
go and seek his fortune, and for these eight years have I had no tidings
of him. He must now be in the Austrian cavalry." I asked in what
regiment. "The regiment of Hohenhem; you are his very picture." "Is he
not of my height?" "Yes, nearly." "Has he not light hair?" "Yes, like
yours, sir." "What is his name?" "His name is William." "No, my dear
mother," cried I, "William is not dead; he was my best friend when I was
with the regiment." Here the poor woman could not contain her joy. She
threw herself round my neck, called me her good angel who brought her
happy tidings: asked me a thousand questions which I easily contrived to
make her answer herself, and thus, forced by imperious necessity, bereft
of all other means, did I act the deceiver.
The story I made was nearly as follows:--I told her I was a soldier in
the regiment of Hohenhem, that I had a furlough to go and see my father,
and that I should return in a month, would then take her letters, and
undertake that, if she wished it, her son should purchase his discharge,
and once more come and live with his mother. I added that I should be
for ever and infinitely obliged to her, if she would suffer my comrade,
meantime, to live at her house, he being wounded by the Prussian
recruiters, and unable to pursue his journey; that I would send him money
to come to me, or would myself come back and fetch him, thankfully paying
every expense. She joyfully consented, told me her second husband,
father-in-law to her dear William, had driven him from home, that he
might give what substance they had to the younger son; and that the
eldest had gone to Magdeburg. She determined Schell should live at the
house of a friend, that her husband might know nothing of the matter;
and, not satisfied with this kindness, she made me eat with her, gave me
a new shirt, stockings, sufficient provisions for three days, and six
Lunenburg florins. I left Thorn, and my faithful Schell, the same night,
with the consolation that he was well taken care of; and having parted
from him with regret, went on the 13th two miles further to Burglow.
I cannot describe what my sensations were, or the despondence of my mind,
when I thus saw myself wandering alone, and leaving, forsaking, as it
were, the dearest of friends. These may certainly be numbered among the
bitterest moments of my life. Often was I ready to return, and drag him
along with me, though at last reason conquered sensibility. I drew near
the end of my journey, and was impelled forward by hope.
March 14.--I went to Schwetz, and
March 15.--To Neuburg and Mowe. In these two days I travelled thirteen
miles. I lay at Mowe, on some straw, among a number of carters, and,
when I awoke, perceived they had taken my pistols, and what little money
I had left, even to my last penny. The gentlemen, however, were all
gone.
What could I do? The innkeeper perhaps was privy to the theft. My
reckoning amounted to eighteen Polish grosch. The surly landlord
pretended to believe I had no money when I entered his house, and I was
obliged to give him the only spare shirt I had, with a silk handkerchief,
which the good woman of Thorn had made me a present of, and to depart
without a single holler.
March 16.--I set off for Marienburg, but it was impossible I should reach
this place, and not fall into the hands of the Prussians, if I did not
cross the Vistula, and, unfortunately, I had no money to pay the ferry,
which would cost two Polish schellings.
Full of anxiety, not knowing how to act, I saw two fishermen in a boat,
went to them, drew my sabre, and obliged them to land me on the other
side; when there, I took the oars from these timid people, jumped out of
the boat, pushed it off the shore, and left it to drive with the stream.
To what dangers does not poverty expose man! These two Polish schellings
were not worth more than half a kreutzer, or some halfpenny, yet was I
driven by necessity to commit violence on two poor men, who, had they
been as desperate in their defence as I was obliged to be in my attack,
blood must have been spilled and lives lost; hence it is evident that the
degrees of guilt ought to be strictly and minutely inquired into, and the
degree of punishment proportioned. Had I hewn them down with my sabre, I
should surely have been a murderer; but I should likewise surely have
been one of the most innocent of murderers. Thus we see the value of
money is not to be estimated by any specific sum, small or great, but
according to its necessity and use. How little did I imagine when at
Berlin, and money was treated by me with luxurious neglect, I may say,
with contempt, I should be driven to the hard necessity, for a sum so
apparently despicable, of committing a violence which might have had
consequences so dreadful, and have led to the commission of an act so
atrocious!
I found Saxon and Prussian recruiters at Marion-burgh, with whom, having
no money, I ate, drank, listened to their proposals, gave them hopes for
the morrow, and departed by daybreak.
March 17.--To Elbing, four miles.
Here I met with my former worthy tutor, Brodowsky, who was become a
captain and auditor in the Polish regiment of Golz. He met me just as I
entered the town. I followed triumphantly to his quarters; and here at
length ended the painful, long, and adventurous journey I had been
obliged to perform.
This good and kind gentleman, after providing me with immediate
necessaries, wrote so affectionately to my mother, that she came to
Elbing in a week, and gave me every aid of which I stood in need.
The pleasure I had in meeting once more this tender mother, whose
qualities of heart and mind were equally excellent, was inexpressible.
She found a certain mode of conveying a letter to my dear mistress at
Berlin, who a short time after sent me a bill of exchange for four
hundred ducats upon Dantzic. To this my mother added a thousand
rix-dollars, and a diamond cross worth nearly half as much, remained a
fortnight with me, and persisted, in spite of all remonstrance, in
advising me to go to Vienna. My determination had been fixed for
Petersburg; all my fears and apprehensions being awakened at the thought
of Vienna, and which indeed afterwards became the source of all my cruel
sufferings and sorrows. She would not yield in opinion, and promised her
future assistance only in case of my obedience; it was my duty not to
continue obstinate. Here she left me, and I have never seen her since.
She died in 1751, and I have ever held her memory in veneration. It was
a happiness for this affectionate mother that she did not hive to be a
witness of my afflictions in the year 1754.
An adventure, resembling that of Joseph in Egypt, happened to me in
Elbing. The wife of the worthy Brodowsky, a woman of infinite personal
attraction, grew partial to me; but I durst not act ungratefully by my
benefactor. Never to see me more was too painful to her, and she even
proposed to follow me, secretly, to Vienna. I felt the danger of my
situation, and doubted whether Potiphar's wife offered temptations so
strong as Madame Brodowsky. I owned I had an affection for this lady,
but my passions were overawed. She preferred me to her husband, who was
in years, and very ordinary in person. Had I yielded to the slightest
degree of guilt, that of the present enjoyment, a few days of pleasure
must have been followed by years of bitter repentance.
Having once more assumed my proper name and character, and made presents
of acknowledgment to the worthy tutor of my youth, I became eager to
return to Thorn.
How great was my joy at again meeting my honest Schell! The kind old
woman had treated him like a mother. She was surprised, and half
terrified, at seeing me enter in an officer's uniform, and accompanied by
two servants. I gratefully and rapturously kissed her hand, repaid, with
thankfulness, every expense (for Schell had been nurtured with truly
maternal kindness), told her who I was, acknowledged the deceit I had put
upon her concerning her son, but faithfully promised to give a true, and
not fictitious account of him, immediately on my arrival at Vienna.
Schell was ready in three days, and we left Thorn, came to Warsaw, and
passed thence, through Crakow, to Vienna.
I inquired for Captain Capi, at Bilitz, who had before given me so kind a
reception, and refused me satisfaction; but he was gone, and I did not
meet with him till some years after, when the cunning Italian made me the
most humble apologies for his conduct. So goes the world.
My journey from Dantzic to Vienna would not furnish me with an
interesting page, though my travels on foot thither would have afforded
thrice as much as I have written, had I not been fearful of trifling with
the reader's patience.
In poverty one misfortune follows another. The foot-passenger sees the
world, becomes acquainted with it, converses with men of every class. The
lord luxuriously lolls and slumbers in his carriage, while his servants
pay innkeepers and postillions, and passes rapidly over a kingdom, in
which he sees some dozen houses, called inns; and this he calls
travelling. I met with more adventures in this my journey of 169 miles,
than afterwards in almost as many thousand, when travelling at ease, in a
carriage.
Here, then, ends my journal, in which, from the hardships therein
related, and numerous others omitted, I seem a kind of second Robinson
Crusoe, and to have been prepared, by a gradual increase and repetition
of sufferings, to endure the load of affliction which I was afterwards
destined to bear.
Arrived at Vienna in the month of April, 1747.
And now another act of the tragedy is going to begin.