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rue 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 ammunit