Consuelo, page 57
"Galop, you scoundrel! spare neither whip nor spur!"
CHAPTER LXXIII
SIGNOR PISTOLA, to whom we can give no other name than that bestowed on him by Consuelo, for we are not sufficiently interested in him to institute any inquiries as to his real one, had seen from his place of concealment the carriage stop at the cries of the fugitives. The Silent One, to use the cognomen given him also by Consuelo, had made a similar observation from the hill. He forthwith ran to rejoin Mayer, and both consulted on the means of saving themselves. Before the baron had crossed the stream, Pistola had gained the road and concealed himself in the wood. He allowed them to cross, and then fired both his pistols, one ball of which pierced the baron's hat, while the other slightly wounded his attendant's horse. The baron turned sharply round, saw him, and riding up stretched him on the earth with a pistol bullet. He then left him kicking and swearing among the brambles, and followed Joseph, who reached the carriage of Herr Mayer almost at the same moment as the count. The latter had already sprung out. Mayer and the Silent One had disappeared with the horse, without taking time to conceal the carriage. The first care of the victors was to force the lock of the recess where the prisoner was confined. Consuelo joyfully assisted to cut the bonds of this unfortunate man, who no sooner found himself at liberty than he threw himself prostrate on the ground before his liberators; thanking God; but the moment he beheld the baron, it seemed as if he had fallen from Charybdis into Scylla.
"Ah! your excellency, Baron Trenck," he exclaimed, "do not destroy me—do not give me up. Mercy for a poor deserter, the father of a family! I am no more a Prussian than you are, sir; I am like yourself an Austrian subject, and I beg of you not to have me arrested. Oh! show mercy!"
"Oh! pardon him, your highness!" exclaimed Consuelo, without knowing to whom she spoke, nor what it was about.
"I pardon you," replied the baron, "but on one condition—that you engage by the most solemn oaths never to tell who gave you life and liberty."
Thus saying, the baron tied a handkerchief over his own face, leaving only one eye exposed.
"Are you wounded?" asked the count.
"No," he replied, pulling his hat over his brows; "but if we meet these pretended robbers I do not wish to be recognized. I do not stand very well already in my sovereign's graces, and there only needs such an affair as this to finish me!"
"I understand," replied the count; "but do not fear, I will take all the responsibility upon myself."
"That may save this deserter from stripes and the gallows, but will not ward off disgrace from me. But whatever comes of it, one should serve one's fellow-creatures at every risk. Let us see, my poor fellow, can you stand up? Not well, I fancy. Are you wounded?"
"I have received some hard blows, but I do not feel them now."
"Have you strength sufficient to fly?"
"Oh! yes, Mr. Aide-de-camp."
"Do not call me by that name, you scoundrel! Be off; and count, let us do the same; I long to get out of these woods. I have given one of these fellows his quietus; if the king knew it I should be a gone man. But, after all, I care not a jot for his anger," he added, shrugging his shoulders.
"Alas!" said Consuelo, while Joseph gave the sufferer a drink, "if we leave him here he will soon be seized again. His feet are swollen, and he can hardly lift his hands. See how pale he is!"
"Do not let us forsake him," said the count, whose eyes were fixed on Consuelo. "Franz, get down," said he to his servant, and then turning to the deserter he added, "mount this horse, I give him to you; and this also," tossing him his purse. "Will you be able to reach Austria?"
"Oh, yes! my lord."
"Do you wish to go to Vienna?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Are you willing to serve again?"
"Yes, my lord, except in the Prussian army."
"Go then and seek her majesty, the Empress Queen. She grants audiences to all who wish it, once a week. Tell her that Count Hoditz presents her with a handsome grenadier drilled in the Prussian fashion."
"I hasten, my lord."
"And never mention the baron's name, or I will get you seized and sent to Prussia."
"I would rather die at once. Oh! if the rascals had only left me the use of my hands, I would have killed myself rather than be taken."
"Be off!"
"Yes, my lord."
He took another drink of the contents of the gourd, returned the vessel to Joseph, thanked him without being aware of the far more important service he owed him, and, prostrating himself before the count and the impatient baron, he crossed himself, kissed the ground, and mounted with the help of the servants, for he was totally unable to set his feet to the ground; but scarcely was he in the saddle than, regaining vigor and courage, he put spurs to his horse and darted off toward the south like the wind.
"If they ever find out what I have done," said the baron, "my destruction is certain. No matter," added he, bursting into a fit of laughter; "it is a rare idea to present Maria Theresa with one of Frederick's grenadiers. This fellow, whose balls have whistled by the soldiers of the empress, will now return the compliment to those of the King of Prussia. Most faithful subjects and well-selected troops!"
"The sovereigns are none the worse served for that. And now what are we going to do with these young creatures?"
"We may say, like the grenadier," replied Consuelo, "that if you forsake us we are lost."
"Methinks," replied the count, who affected a chivalrous style in all his sayings and doings, "you have had little reason hitherto to doubt our humanity. We will bring you where you will be free from all danger. My servant will mount the box"—then addressing the baron, he added in a low voice, "Would you not prefer these young people inside to a valet, before whom we would be obliged to practice more reserve!"
"Without any doubt," replied the baron; "artists, however poor, are fit society for any one. Who knows if in yonder lad we have not picked up a Tartini in embryo? Look with what rapture he seizes on his fiddle again. Come, troubadour," said he to Joseph, who had just succeeded in regaining possession of his bag, his violin, and his music—"come with us, you shall sing this glorious combat in which we could find nobody to kill."
"You may jest at my expense as much as you please," replied the count, reclining at the back of the carriage (the young people being seated in front), as they rapidly rolled along toward Austria—"you have brought down one gallows bird at any rate."
"Perhaps he is not killed outright, and may, some day or other, meet me at King Frederick's door. I will give you the honor of the exploit, therefore, with all my heart."
"As for me who never even saw the enemy," replied the count, "I quite envy you; I was in, however, for the adventure, and could have been glad to punish these fellow-as they deserve. To seize deserters and carry off recruits on the very borders of Bavaria, the faithful ally of Maria Theresa!—it is insolence beyond all bounds!"
"It would be an excellent pretext for going to war if they were not both tired fighting, and if peace at this moment were not much more convenient. I shall therefore feel thankful, Sir Count, if you will be silent on the subject of this adventure, as well on account of my sovereign as on the score of my mission to your empress. I should find her but ill disposed to receive me after such an impertinent demonstration on the part of my government."
"Fear nothing," replied the count. "You know that I am not a zealous subject, because I am not an ambitious courtier."
"And what scope for ambition could you have, dear count, crowned as you are at once by love and fortune? Whereas I—ah! how unlike are our respective destinies, analogous as they may at first sight seem!" Thus saying the baron drew from his bosom a portrait set in diamonds, and began to gaze at it with moistened eyes and deep-drawn sighs. Consuelo felt very much inclined to laugh; she thought so open a display of attachment was not in the best taste, and inwardly ridiculed the person who could be guilty of it.
"Dear baron," replied the count, lowering his voice, while Consuelo did her utmost not to hear him, "I entreat you to make no one your confidant but myself, nor ever to display this portrait again. Put it back in its case, and reflect that this child knows French as well as you or I do."
"By the way,' said the baron, putting back his portrait, which Consuelo took care not to glance at, "what the devil were they going to do with these little fellows? What did they say to induce you to follow them?"
"I never thought of that," said the count, "nor can I even now understand what they, who seek only to enlist giants, wished to do with a couple of children."
Joseph related that Mayer represented himself as a musician, and talked continually about Dresden and an engagement in the electoral chapel.
"Now I have it!" replied the baron; "and this Mayer, I wager I know him. It must be one N——, formerly a drum-major, and now recruiting for the Prussian regimental bands. Our people have no ear or taste, and his majesty, who even excels his father in the justness of his musical perceptions, is obliged to procure his trumpeters and fifers from Bohemia and Hungary. The professor of Rubadub thought to secure in those little musicians a fine present for his master, in addition to the deserter; and it was not a bad idea to promise Dresden and the court to these intelligent young performers. But you would never have seen Dresden, my children, and, with your leave or without your leave, a regiment of infantry would have been your destination for the rest of your days."
"Now I know what to think of the fate which awaited us," replied Consuelo. "I have heard of the abominations of this dull, heavy régime, and of their bad faith and cruelty toward recruits. I see from the way they treated the poor grenadier what was in store for us. Oh, the Great Frederick!"
"Know, my young friend," said the baron, somewhat ironically, "that his majesty is ignorant of the means; he is only aware of the results."
"Of which he unconcernedly takes advantage," replied Consuelo, with irrepressible indignation. "O, my lord baron! kings are never wrong, and are ignorant of all the evil which is practiced to gratify them."
"The rogue is witty!" exclaimed the count, smiling. "But be prudent, my pretty drummer, and do not forget that you speak before the commander of the regiment in which you were perhaps about to enter."
"Knowing how to be silent myself, Signor Count, I never doubt the discretion of others."
"You hear, baron; he promises the silence which was not even asked of him! Come! he is a fine fellow!"
"I confide in him with all my heart. Count, you must enroll him, and offer him as page to her highness."
"I agree," said the count, smiling, "if he consent to the arrangement. Will you accept this arrangement, my child? you will find it much more agreeable than the Prussian service. You will neither have to blow a trumpet nor to call the reveillé before break of day, nor eat powdered brick in place of bread, but simply to bear the train and carry the fan of a gracious lady, live in a fairy palace, preside at sports, and take your part in concerts, quite as good as those of the Great Frederick. Are you tempted? You do not take me for another Mayer?"
"And who is this highness, so gracious and magnificent?" asked Consuelo, smiling.
"It is the Dowager Margravine of Bareith, Princess of Culmbach, and my illustrious spouse," replied Count Hoditz, "who is now residing at her ancestral castle of Roswald, in Moravia."
Consuelo had often heard the canoness relate the history and alliances of all the aristocracy, great and small, of Germany, and among others that of Count Hoditz-Roswald, a rich Moravian nobleman, banished by his father (justly irritated at his conduct), an adventurer in all the courts of Europe, and latterly grand equerry and lover of the Dowager Margravine of Bareith, whom he had secretly married, carried off, and conducted to Vienna, and thence to Moravia, where, having received his paternal inheritance, he had placed her at the head of a brilliant establishment. The canoness had often recurred to this history, at which she was excessively shocked, because the Margravine was a reigning princess and the count a simple nobleman, and she therefore made it her continual text for inveighing against all mésalliances and love matches. Consuelo, on her part, was well pleased to make herself acquainted with aristocratic prejudices, and did not forget these revelations. The first time the name of Count Hoditz was mentioned before her, she had been struck by a sort of vague recollection, but now she remembered clearly all the particulars of the life and romantic marriage of this celebrated adventurer. As to Baron Trenck, who was then at the outset of his remarkable career, and who little foresaw his frightful downfall, she had never heard of him. The count now proceeded to dilate with some degree of vanity on his recent opulence. Ridiculed and looked down upon by the little courts of Germany, Hoditz had long blushed to be regarded as a poor wretch enriched by his wife; but having succeeded to vast possessions, he maintained from thenceforth regal state in his Moravian domain, and displayed his titles and his consequence before the eyes of petty princes much poorer than himself. Delicately attentive to the Margravine, he thought himself no otherwise bound to a woman so much older than himself; and whether she shut her eyes through complaisance or good taste, or believed that her husband could never be sensible of the decline of her beauty, she never ventured to thwart his fancies.
After proceeding a few leagues, the noble travelers found a fresh relay of horses ready harnessed for them. Joseph and Consuelo would have here taken leave of their friends, but they kindly dissuaded them, alleging the possibility of new enterprises on the part of the recruiters, who were spread everywhere over the country.
"You do not know," said Trenck, "how skillful and how much to be feared this race of men are. In whatever part of Europe you may happen to set foot, if you are poor and in difficulties and are possessed of any talent, you are exposed to their machinations or violence. They know all the passages of the frontiers, all the mountain paths, every place of ill-fame, and all the rascals from whom they may expect assistance or support in case of need. They speak all languages, all dialects, for they have traveled in every country, and have practiced every profession and trade. They can manage a horse to perfection; run, jump, swim, dive, cross valleys and precipices, like regular banditti. They are almost all brave, inured to fatigue, liars, dexterous, supple, subtle, cruel. It is from the refuse of the human race that the administration of his late Majesty, the great William, has selected the able purveyors of his forces and the props of his military discipline. They would lay hold of a deserter were he in the depths of Siberia, and would seek him in the midst of the enemy's balls, for the sole pleasure of bringing him back to Prussia, and hanging him for an example to others. They have before now torn a priest from the altar, because he was six feet high; they stole a physician from the electoral princess; they have ten times reduced the old Margrave of Bareith to a state of despair, by running off with his army of twenty men without his daring to seek redress openly; they made a soldier of a French gentleman, who went to see his wife and children in the neighborhood of Strasbourg; they have taken Russians from the Czarina Elizabeth, Hulons from Marshal Saxe, Pandours from Maria Theresa, Hungarian magnates, Polish noblemen, Italian singers, women of all nations—Sabines married by force to their soldiers. Nothing comes amiss to them; and besides all the cost and charges of their journeys, they have so much a head—what do I say?—so much an inch, so much a line!"
"Yes," said Consuelo, "they furnish human flesh by the pound! Ah, your great king is nothing but an ogre! But do not be uneasy, Signor Baron; you have done a good deed in restoring liberty to the poor deserter. I would rather undergo all the punishments that were designed for him, than utter a word to your prejudice."
Trenck, whose fiery character had little regard for prudence, and whose mind was already embittered by the singular severity and incomprehensible injustice of Frederick toward him, experienced a savage satisfaction in revealing to Count Hoditz the misdeeds of a system, of which he had been the witness and the accomplice in prosperous times, when his reflections had not always been so equitable and so severe. Now secretly persecuted, though apparently confided in so far as to be intrusted with an important diplomatic mission to the court of Maria Theresa, he began to hate his master, and to display his sentiments much too openly. He related to the count the slavery, the sufferings, and the despair of this numerous Prussian army, precious in war, but dangerous in peace, and whose power was matured by unexampled severity. He then mentioned the suicidal epidemic which had spread in the army, and the crimes which soldiers, otherwise honest and devout, had committed in order to be condemned to death, and thus escape from the dreadful life they led.
"You may suppose," said he, "that the ranks under inspection are those which are most sought after? You must know that these are composed of foreign recruits, men carried off by force, and young Prussians utterly disgusted and wearied with a military career in which they are doomed to end their days. They are divided into ranks, in which they are forced to march, whether in peace or war, before a line of men more submissive and determined, to whom orders are given to fire on those before them, if the latter display the least appearance of flying or resisting. If the ranks charged with this duty neglect it, those placed still further back—who are among the most insensible and ferocious of the hardened and rascally veterans of the army—are bound to fire on the two first, and so on, if the third flinch in their duty. Thus every rank in battle has the enemy before his face and the enemy behind his back; friends, brethren, fellow-creatures—nowhere! Nothing save violence, death, and terror! Thus does the Great Frederick form his invincible soldiers! Well! a place among these first ranks is envied and sought after by the Prussian soldier, and as soon as he obtains it, he throws down his arms, without the least hope of safety, in order to draw on him the balls of his comrades. This despair saves many, who, venturing all on the die, and braving unheard-of dangers, succeed in escaping to the enemy. The king is not unaware of the horror which his iron yoke inspires, and you probably know his remark to his nephew the Duke of Brunswick, who was present at one of his grand reviews, and could not help admiring the fine appearance and superb maneuvers of the troops.
