The Countess of Rudolstadt / A Sequel to "Consuelo"

by George Sand

"It was proposed to the empress that the rebellious artist should be imprisoned, there to recover her voice and good temper. Her majesty was angry for a moment, and the courtiers thought to ingratiate themselves with her by advising cruelty; but the empress did not like unnecessary severity, though she could connive at remunerative crime.

"'Kaunitz,' said she, 'permit the poor woman to leave, and say nothing more about it. If her loss of voice is feigned, her duty seems to require it. Few actresses would sacrifice professional success at the altar of conjugal affection and duty.'

"Consuelo thus authorised set out. She was unwell, without being apparently aware of it."

Here again we lose the thread of events. The cause of Albert may have been public or secret. It is probable that it was analogous to the suit which Trenck made and lost, after so many years' dispute. Who in France would not know the details of this affair, had not Trenck himself published and spread his complaints abroad for thirty years? Albert left no documents. We must then turn to Trenck's story, he too being one of our heroes. It is probable his troubles may throw some light on those of Albert and Consuelo.

About a month after the meeting at St. Graal, of which in his memoirs Trenck says nothing, he was recaptured and imprisoned at Magdenbourg, where he passed ten years of his life, loaded with eighty pounds of irons. The stone to which he was bound bears the inscription "Here lies Trenck." All know his terrible fate, and the sufferings he underwent, as also his wonderful attempts at escape, and his incredible energy, which never left him, but which his chivalric imprudence counteracted. His sister was subjected to the cruelty of paying for the erection of a dungeon for him, because she afforded him a refuge in his flight. Trenck's works of art in prison, the wonderful engravings he made with the point of a nail on the tin cups, which are allegories or verses of great beauty, are also well known.[20] In fine, from his secret relations with the princess Amelia—the despair in which she wasted away, and her care to disfigure her face by means of a corrosive fluid, which almost destroyed her sight—the deplorable state of health to which she reduced herself to avoid marriage—the remarkable change effected on her character—the ten years of agony, which made him a martyr, and her an old woman, ugly and malicious, instead of the angelic creature she was, and would have been had she been happy[21]—the misfortunes of the lovers are historical; but they are generally forgotten when the character of Frederick the Great is written. These crimes, committed with such refined cruelty, are indelible spots on the character of that monarch.

At length Trenck was released, as is known, by the intervention of Maria Theresa, who claimed him as her subject. This was accomplished by the influence of Karl, her majesty's valet. In relation to the curious intrigues of this magnanimous man with his sovereign, some of the strangest, most touching and pathetic pages of the memoirs of the age have been written.

During the first part of the captivity of Trenck, his cousin, the famous Pandour, a victim of truer though not less hateful accusations, died it is said at Spielberg of poison. As soon as Trenck was free, the Prussian came to ask for his cousin's vast estate; but Maria Theresa had no idea of yielding it. She had taken advantage of the exploits of Pandour, and profited by his death. Like Frederick and other crowned tyrants, while the power of position dazzled the masses, she paid no attention to the secret offences for which God will call her to account at the day of judgment, and which will at least weigh as heavy as her official virtues.

The avarice of the empress was exceeded by her agents, the ignoble persons she had made curators of Pandour's estate, and the prevaricating magistrates who decided on the rights of the heir. Each had a share of the spoil, but the empress secured the largest. It was in vain that, years after, she sent to prison and the galleys all her accomplices in this fraud, as she never made complete restoration to Trenck. Nothing describes the character of the empress better than that portion of Trenck's book, in which he speaks of his interviews with her. Without divesting himself of the loyalty which was then a kind of patrician religion, he makes us feel how very avaricious and hypocritical this deceitful woman was. He exhibits an union of contrasts, a character at once base and sublime, innocent and false, like all those naturally pure hearts which become captivated by the corruption of absolute power—that great river of evil, on the breakers of which the noblest impulses of the human heart have been dashed to pieces. Resolved to thwart him, she yet afterwards deigned to console and encourage him, and promise him protection against his infamous judges;—and, finally, pretending not to have been able to discover the truth she sought, she bestowed on him the rank of major, and offered the hand of an ugly old woman who was both devout and gallant. On the refusal of Trenck, the royal matrimomaniac told him he was a presumptuous madman, that she had no means of gratifying his ambition, and coldly turned her back upon him. The reasons assigned for the confiscation of his estate varied under circumstances. One court said that Pandour, undergoing an infamous sentence, could make no will. Another, that if there were a will, the claimant, as a Prussian, could not benefit by it; and that the debts of the deceased absorbed everything. Incident after incident was got up; but after much disputing Trenck never received justice.[22]

There was no need of artifice to defraud Albert, and his spoliation was effected without much procrastination. It was only necessary to treat him as if he were dead, and prohibit him from being resuscitated at an inappropriate time. We know that when he was arrested, the Canoness Wenceslawa had died at Prague, whither she had come to be treated for acute ophthalmia. Albert, having heard that she was in extremis, could not resist the promptings of his heart to go and close the eyes of his relation. He left Consuelo on the Austrian frontier, and went to Prague. This was the first time he had been in Germany since his marriage. He flattered himself that the lapse of ten years and certain changes of attire would prevent him from being recognised; yet he approached his aunt with much mystery. He wished to have her blessing, and atone by his last kindness for the grief to which his desertion had subjected her. The canoness was almost blind, but was struck by the sound of his voice. She did not analyse her feelings, but at once abandoned herself to the instinctive tenderness which had survived her memory and mental activity. She clasped him in her withered arms, and called him her beloved Albert—her darling child. Old Hans was dead; but the Baroness Amelia and a woman from the Boehmer-wald, who had been a servant of the canoness, and who had nursed Albert when he was sick, were astonished and terrified at the resemblance of the pretended doctor and the count. It does not appear that Amelia positively recognised him, and we will not consider her an accomplice in the violent prosecution commenced against him. We do not know who set the detachment of half-magistrates half-spies to work, by whose aid the court of Vienna governed its conquered subjects. But one thing is certain, that the countess had scarcely breathed her last in her nephew's arms, ere Albert was arrested and examined as to what had brought him to the death-bed of the old lady. They wished to see his diploma; but he had none, and his name of Leverani was considered criminal, several people having known him as Trismegistus. He was consequently accused of being a quack and conjuror, although no one could prove that he had ever received money for his cures. He was confronted with Amelia: hence his ruin. Irritated and mortified by the investigations to which he was subjected, he confessed frankly to his cousin that he was Albert of Rudolstadt. Amelia certainly recognised him, and fainted from terror. The conversation had been overheard. The matter then took another turn. They wished to treat him as an impostor; but in order to produce one of those endless suits which ruin both parties, functionaries of the kind that had ruined Trenck, sought to compromise him by making him say he was Albert of Rudolstadt. There was a long investigation; and Supperville being sent for, said there was no doubt Albert had died at the Giants' Castle. The exhumation of the body was ordered; and a skeleton, which might have been placed there only the day before, was found, his cousin was induced to contend with him as with an adventurer who wished to rob her. She was not suffered to see him. The complaints of the captive and the ardent demands of his wife were stifled by a prison-bar and torture. Perhaps they were sick, and dying in different dungeons. Albert could no longer regain honor and liberty except by proclaiming the truth. It was in vain that he promised to renounce the estate, and at once to bestow it on his cousin. Interested parties sought to prolong the controversy, and they succeeded, either because the empress was deceived, or because she desired the confiscation of the estate. Amelia herself was attacked, the scandal of her previous misfortune being revived. It was insinuated that she was not a devotee, and they threatened to send her to a convent, in case she did not abandon her claim. Eventually she was forced to restrict it to her father's fortune, which was much reduced by the enormous expenses of litigation. The castle and estates of Riesenberg were confiscated to the state, after the lawyers, judges, and managers of the affair had appropriated two-thirds of its value. On the termination of the suit, which lasted five or six years, Albert was exiled from the Austrian states as a dangerous alien. Thenceforth, it is almost certain, the couple led an obscure life. They took their youngest children with them. Haydn and the canon kindly refused to give up the elder ones, who were being educated under the eyes and at the expense of these faithful friends. Consuelo had lost her voice for ever. It is but too certain that captivity, idleness, and sorrow at his wife's sufferings, had again shaken Albert's reason. It does not appear, however, that their love was less pure, or their conduct towards each other less tender. The Invisibles disappeared under persecution; their plans having failed, principally on account of the charlatans who had speculated on the new ideas and the love of the marvellous. Persecuted again as a freemason, in intolerant and despotic countries, Albert took refuge either in France or England. Perhaps he continued his propagandism, but this must have been among the people; and if his toil had any fruit, it had no eclat.

Here there is a void which our imagination cannot fill. One authentic document, which is very minute, shows us that in 1774 the couple were wandering in the Bohemian forests.