THE FIRST CLOUD.
Drunk with happiness, revelling in the recollection of this first
interview with his lovely and exalted mistress, Frederick von Trenck
rode slowly through the lonely highways toward Potsdam. It was not
necessary for him to pay any attention to the road, as his horse
knew every foot of the way. Trenck laid his bridle carelessly upon
the neck of the noble animal, and gave himself up entirely to
meditation. Suddenly night waned, the vapors melted, light appeared
in the east, and the first purple glow was succeeded by a clear,
soft blue. The larks sang out their joyous morning song in the
heavens, not yet disturbed by the noise and dust of the day.
Trenck heard not the song of the lark, he saw not the rising sun,
which, with his golden rays, illuminated the landscape, and changed
the dew-drops in the cups of the flowers into shimmering diamonds
and rubies; he was dreaming, dreaming. The sweet and wondrous
happiness of the last few hours intoxicated his soul; he recalled
every word, every smile, every pressure of the hand of his beloved,
and a crimson blush suffused his cheek, a sweet tremor oppressed his
heart, as he remembered that she had been clasped in his arms; that
he had kissed the pure, soft, girlish lips, whose breath was fresher
and more odorous than the glorious morning air which fanned his
cheeks and played with his long dark hair. With a radiant smile and
proudly erected head, he recalled the promise of the princess. She
had given him reason to hope; she believed in the possibility of
their union.
And why, indeed, might not this be possible? Had not his career in
the last few months been so brilliant as to excite the envy of his
comrades? was he not recognized as the special favorite of the king?
Scarcely six months had passed since he arrived in Berlin; a young,
poor, and unknown student, he was commended to the king by his
protector, the Count von Lottum, who earnestly petitioned his
majesty to receive him into his life-guard. The king, charmed by his
handsome and martial figure, by his cultivated intellect and
wonderful memory, had made him cornet in his cavalry guard, and a
few weeks later he was promoted to a lieutenancy. Though but
eighteen years of age, he had the distinguished honor to be chosen
by the king to exercise two regiments of Silesian cavalry, and
Frederick himself had expressed his content, not only in gracious
but affectionate words. [Footnote: "Memoires de Frederic Baron von
Trenck," traduits par Lui-meme su l'original allemande.] It is well
known that the smile of a prince is like the golden rays of the sun:
it lends light and glory to every object upon which it rests, and
attracts the curious gaze of men.
The handsome young lieutenant, basking in the rays of royal favor,
was naturally an object of remark and the most distinguished
attentions to the circle of the court. More than once the king had
been seen to lay his arm confidingly upon the shoulder of Trenck,
and converse with him long and smilingly; more than once had the
proud and almost unapproachable queen-mother accorded the young
officer a gracious salutation; more than once had the princesses at
the fetes of the last winter selected him as their partner, and all
those young and lovely girls of the court declared that there was no
better dancer, no more attentive cavalier, no more agreeable
companion than Frederick von Trenck--than this youthful, witty,
merry officer, who surpassed all his comrades, not, only in his
height and the splendor of his form, but in talent and amiability.
It was therefore to be expected that this proud aristocracy would
seek to draw the favorite of the king and of the ladies into their
circle.
Frederick von Trenck was of too sound and healthy a nature, he had
too much strength of character, to be made vain or supercilious by
these attentions. He soon, however, accustomed himself to them as
his right; and he was scarcely surprised when the king, after his
promotion, sent him two splendid horses from his own stable, and a
thousand thalers, [Footnote: Ibid.] at that time a considerable sum
of money.
This general adulation inspired naturally bold wishes and ambitious
dreams, and led him to look upon the impossible and unheard of as
possible and attainable. Frederick von Trenck was not vain or
imperious, but he was proud and ambitious; he had a great object in
view, and all his powers were consecrated to that end; in his
hopeful, sunny hours, he did not doubt of success; he was ever
diligent, ever watchful, ever ready to embrace an opportunity; ever
expecting some giant work, which would, in its fruition, bring him
riches and honor, fame and greatness. He felt that he had strength
to win a world and lay it bound at his feet; and if the king had
commanded him to undertake the twelve labors of Hercules, he would
not have shrunk from the ordeal. Convinced that a glorious future
awaited him, he prepared himself for it. No hour found him idle.
When his comrades, wearied by the fatiguing service and the oft-
repeated exercises and preparations for war, retired to rest, Trenck
was earnestly engaged in some grave study, some scientific work,
seated at his writing-table surrounded with books, maps, and
drawings.
The young lieutenant was preparing himself to be a general, or a
conquering hero, by his talents and his great deeds; to subdue the
world and its prejudices; to bridge over with laurels and trophies
the gulf which separated him from the princess. Was he not already
on the way? Did not the future beckon to him with glorious promise?
Must not he, who at eighteen years of age had attained that for
which many not less endowed had given their whole lives in vain--he,
the flattered cavalier, the scholar, and the officer of the king's
guard--be set apart, elected to some exalted fate?
These were the thoughts which occupied the young man, and which made
him forgetful of all other things, even the danger with which the
slow movements of his horse and the ever-rising sun threatened him.
It was the custom of the king to attend the early morning parade,
and the commander, Captain Jaschinsky, did not belong to Trenck's
friends; he envied him for his rapid promotion; it angered him that
Trenck had, at a bound, reached that position to which he had
wearily crept forward through long years of service. It would have
made him happy to see this young man, who advanced so proudly and
triumphantly upon the path of honor and distinction, cast down from
the giddy height of royal favor, and trampled in the lust of
forgetfulness. He watched his young lieutenant with the smiling
cunning of a base soul, resolved to punish harshly the smallest
neglect of duty.
And now he had found his opportunity. A sergeant, who was a spy for
the captain, informed him that Trenck's corporal had told him his
master had ridden forth late in the night and had not yet returned.
The sergeant had watched the door of the house in which Trenck
resided, and was convinced that he was still absent. This
intelligence filled the heart of Captain Jaschinsky with joy; he
concealed it, however, under the mask of indifference; he declared
that he did not believe this story of Trenck's absence. The young
man knew full well that no officer was allowed to leave Potsdam,
even for an hour, without permission, particularly during the night.
In order, as he said, to convince the sergeant of the untruth of
this statement, he sent him with some trifling commission to
Lieutenant von Trenck. The sergeant returned triumphantly; the baron
was not at home, and his servant was most anxious about him, The
captain shrugged his shoulders silently. The clock struck eight; he
seized his hat, and hastened to the parade.
The whole line was formed; every officer stood by his regiment,
except the lieutenant of the second company. The captain saw this at
a glance, and a wicked smile for one moment played upon his face. He
rode with zealous haste to the front of his regiment and saluted the
king, who descended the steps of the castle, accompanied by his
generals and adjutants.
At this moment, to the right wing of the regiment, there was a
slight disturbance, which did not escape the listening ear of the
captain. He turned his head, and saw that Trenck had joined his
company, and that his horse was panting and bathed in sweat. The
captain's brow was clouded; the young officer seemed to have escaped
the threatened danger. The king had seen nothing. Trenck was in his
place, and it would be useless to bring a charge against him.
The king, however, had seen all; his keen eye had observed Trenck's
rapid approach, and his glowing, heated countenance; and as he rode
to the front, he drew in his horse directly before Trenck.
"How comes it that your horse is fatigued and sweating? I must
suppose he is fresh from the stable, and his master just from his
bed. It appears, however, that he has been delayed there; I see that
he has just arrived upon the parade-ground."
The officer murmured a few incomprehensible words.
"Will you answer me?" said the king; "is your horse just from the
stable--are you directly from your bed?"
Frederick von Trenck's head had been bowed humbly upon his breast,
he now raised it boldly up; he was resolved; his fierce eyes met
those of the king. "No, your majesty," said he, with a cool,
composed mien, "my horse is not from the stable--I am not from my
bed."
There was a pause, an anxious, breathless pause. Every eye was fixed
observantly upon the king, whose severity in military discipline was
known and feared.
"Do you know," said the king at last, "that I command my officers to
be punctual at parade?"
"Yes, sire."
"Do you know that it is positively forbidden to leave Potsdam
without permission?"
"Yes, your majesty."
"Well, then, since this was known to you, where have you been? You
confess that you do not come from your dwelling?"
"Sire, I was on the chase, and loitered too long. I know I am guilty
of a great misdemeanor, and I expect my pardon only from the grace
of my king."
The king smiled, and his glance was mild and kindly. "You expect
also, as it appears, under any circumstances, a pardon? Well, this
time you shall not be disappointed. I am well pleased that you have
been bold enough to speak the truth. I love truthful people; they
are always brave. This time you shall go unpunished, but beware of
the second offence. I warn you."
Alas! what power had even a king's warning over the passionate love
of a youth of eighteen? Trenck soon forgot the danger from which he
had escaped; and even if remembered, it would not have restrained
him.
It was again a cloudy, dark night, and he knew that the princess
expected him. As he stood again upon the balcony, guarded by the
watchful master of ceremonies; as he listened to the sweet music of
Amelia's voice and comprehended the holy and precious character of
her girlish and tender nature; as he sat at her feet, pouring out
the rich treasures of his love and happiness, and felt her trembling
small white hand upon his brow; as he dreamed with her of a blessed
and radiant future, in which not only God and the night but the king
and the whole world might know and recognize their love--how could
he remember that the king had ordered the parade at seven in the
morning, and that it was even now impossible for him to reach
Potsdam at that hour?
The parade was over when he reached his quarters. A guard stood
before his door, and led him instantly before the king. Frederick
was alone in his cabinet. He silently dismissed his adjutant and the
guard, then walked for some time backward and forward through the
room, without seeming to observe Trenck, who stood with pale but
resolved countenance before the door.
Trenck followed every movement of the king with a steady glance. "If
he cashiers me, I will shoot myself," he said in a low tone. "If he
puts me to the torture, in order to learn the secret of my love, I
can bear it and be silent."
But there was another possibility upon which, in the desperation of
his soul, Trenck had not thought. What should he do if the king
approached him mildly and sorrowfully, and, with the gentle,
persuasive words of a kind friend, besought him to explain this
mystery?
This was exactly the course adopted by the king. He stepped forward
to the poor, pale, almost breathless youth, and looked him steadily
in the eyes. His glance was not threatening and scornful, as Trenck
had expected, but sad and reproachful.
"Why have you again secretly left Potsdam?" said the king. "Where do
you find the proud courage to disobey my commands? Captain
Jaschinsky has brought serious charges against you. He tells me that
you often leave Potsdam secretly. Do you know that, if punished
according to the law, you must be cashiered?"
"Yes, I know, sire. I also know that I will not outlive this shame."
A scornful glance shot from the king's eye. "Do you intend to make
me anxious? Is that a menace?"
"Pardon, sire. It is not in my power to make you anxious, and I do
not dare to menace. Of what importance to your majesty is this atom,
this unknown and insignificant youth, who is only seen when
irradiated by the sunshine of your eye? I am nothing, and less than
nothing, to your majesty; you are every thing to me. I will not, I
cannot live if your highness withdraws your favor from me, and robs
me of the possibility of winning a name and position for myself.
That was my meaning, sire."
"You are, then, ambitious, and thirst for fame?"
"Your majesty, I would gladly sell one-half of my life to the devil
if he would insure me rank and glory for the other half, and after
death an immortality of fame. Oh, how gladly would I make this
contract!"
"If such ambition fires your soul, how can you be so foolish, so
inconsiderate, as to bring degradation and shame upon yourself by
carelessness in duty? He who is not prompt and orderly in small
things, will neglect the most important duties. Where were you last
night?"
"Sire, I was on the chase."
The king looked at him with angry, piercing eyes. Trenck had not the
courage to bear this. He blushed and looked down.
"You have told me an untruth," said the king. "Think again. Where
were you last night?"
"Sire, I was on the chase."
"You repeat that?"
"Your majesty, I repeat that."
"Will you solemnly declare that this is true?"
Trenck was silent.
"Will you declare that this is true?" repeated the king.
The young officer looked up, and this time he had the courage to
meet the flaming eye of the king. "No, sire, I will not affirm it."
"You confess, then, that you have told me an untruth?"
"Yes, your majesty."
"Do you know that that is a new and grave offence?"
"Yes, your majesty, but I cannot act otherwise."
"You will not, then, tell me the truth?"
"I cannot."
"Not if your obstinacy will lead to your being immediately
cashiered, and to your imprisonment in the fortress?"
"Not then, your majesty. I cannot act differently."
"Trenck, Trenck, be on your guard! Remember that you speak to your
lord and king, who has a right to demand the truth."
"Your majesty may punish me, it is your right, and your duty, and I
must bear it," said Trenck, trembling and ghastly pale, but firm and
confident in himself.
The king moved off for a few moments, then stood again before his
lieutenant. "You will report to your captain, and ask for your
discharge."
Trenck replied not. Perhaps it was not in his power. Two great tears
ran slowly down his cheeks, and he did not restrain them. He wept
for his youth, his happiness, his honor, and his fame.
"Go!" repeated the king.
The young man bowed low. "I thank you for gracious punishment," he
said; then turned and opened the door.
The eyes of the king had followed him with marked interest.
"Trenck!" cried he; and, as he turned and waited silently upon the
threshold for the new command, the king stepped forward hastily and
held out his hand.
"I am content with you! You have gone astray, but the anguish of
soul you have just now endured is a sufficient punishment. I forgive
you."
A wild cry of joy burst from the pale lips of the youth. He bowed
low over the king's hand, and pressed it with passionate earnestness
to his lips.
"Your majesty gives me my life again! I thank you! oh, I thank you!"
The king smiled. "And yet your life must have but little worth for
you, if you would sign it away so readily. Once more I have forgiven
you, but I warn you for the future. Be on your guard, monsieur, or
the lightning will fall and consume you." [Footnote: The king's own
words. See Trenck's "Memoires."] And now the king's eye was
threatening, and his voice terrible in anger. "You have guarded your
secret," he said; "you did not betray it, even when threatened with
punishment worse than death. Your honor, as a cavalier, demanded
that; and I am not surprised that you hold it sacred. But there is
yet another kind of honor, which you have this day tarnished--I mean
obedience to your king and general. I forgive you for this; and now
I must speak to you as a friend, and not as a king. You are
wandering in dangerous paths, young man. Turn now, while there is
yet time; turn before the abyss opens which will swallow you up! No
man can serve two masters, or strive successfully after two objects.
He who wills something, must will it wholly; must give his undivided
heart and strength to its attainment; must sacrifice every thing
else to the one great aim! You are striving for love and fame at the
same time, and you will forfeit both. Love makes a man soft and
yielding. He who leaves a mistress behind him cannot go bravely and
defiantly into battle, though women despise men who are not gallant
and laurel-crowned. Strive then, Trenck, first to become a hero;
then it will be time to play the lover. Pluck your laurels first,
and then gather the myrtle-wreath. If this counsel does not suit
you, then give up your ambition, and the path to fame which you have
chosen. Lay aside your sword; though I can promise you that soon,
and with honor, you may hope to use it. But lay it aside, and take
up the pen or the hammer; build yourself a nest; take a wife, and
thank God for the gift of a child every twelve months; and pray that
the sound of battle may be heard only in the distance, and the steps
of soldiers may not disturb your fields and gardens. That is also a
future, and there are those who are content with it; whose ears are
closed to the beat of drums and the sound of alarm-bells which now
resound throughout Europe. Choose, then, young man. Will you be a
soldier, and with God's help a hero? or will you go again 'upon the
chase?'"
"I will be a soldier," cried Trenck, completely carried away. "I
will win fame, honor, and distinction upon the battle-field, and
above all I will gain the approbation and consideration of my king.
My name shall be known and honored by the world."
"That is a mighty aim," said the king, smiling, "and it requires the
dedication of a life. You must offer up many things, and above all
other things 'the chase.' I do not know what you have sought, and I
do not wish to know. I counsel you though, as a friend, to give up
the pursuit. I have placed the two alternatives before you, and you
have made your choice--you will be a brave soldier. Now, then, from
this time onward, I will be inexorable against even your smallest
neglect of duty. In this way only can I make of you what you resolve
to be--a gallant and stainless officer. I will tell your captain to
watch you and report every fault; I will myself observe and
scrutinize your conduct, and woe to you if I find you again walking
in crooked paths! I will be stern and immovable. Now, monsieur, you
are warned, and cannot complain if a wild tempest bursts over your
head; the guilt and responsibility will be yours. Not another word!
Adieu!"
Long after Trenck had left the room, the king stood thoughtfully
looking toward the door through which the tall, graceful figure of
the young officer had disappeared.
"A heart of steel, a head of iron," said the king to himself. "He
will be very happy, or very wretched. For such natures there is no
middle way. Alas! I fear it had been better for him if I had
dismissed him, and--" Frederick did not complete his sentence; he
sighed deeply, and his brow was clouded. He stepped to his writing-
table and took up a large sealed envelope, opened and read it
carefully. A sad smile played upon his lips. "Poor Amelia!" said he-
-"poor sister! They have chosen you to be assistant Abbess of
Quedlinburg. A miserable alternative for the Swedish throne, which
was in your power! Well, I will sign this paper." He took the pen
and hastily wrote his name upon the diploma. "If she is resolved
never to marry, she will be one day Abbess of Quedlinburg--that is
something. Aurora of Konigsmark was content with that, but only
after she had reached the height of earthly grandeur."
Frederick was completely unmanned by these painful thoughts. He
raised his eyes to heaven, and said in a low tone: "Poor human
heart! why has Fate made you so soft, when you must become stone in
order to support the disappointments and anguish of life?" He stood
bowed down for a long time, in deep thought; then suddenly rising
proudly erect, he exclaimed: "Away with such cares! I have no time
to play the considerate and amiable father to my family. My kingly
duty and service call me with trumpet tones."