Wonderful escapes

Gefhardt came on guard soon after this, and he at once began to concert with Trenck measures for a new attempt at flight. He furnished him with writing materials, and undertook to post a letter to a friend of the prisoner, in Vienna. This friend sent back some money, which Gefhardt found means to convey to the prisoner while handing him his food.

“Having money to carry on my designs, I began to put into execution my plan, of burrowing under the foundation. The first thing necessary was to free myself from my fetters. To accomplish this Gefhardt supplied me with two small files, and by the aid of these this operation, though a difficult one, was effected.

“The cap or staple of the foot-ring was made so wide that I could draw it forward a quarter of an inch. I filed the iron which passed through it on the inside; the more I filed this away the farther I could draw the cap down, till at last the whole inside iron through which the chains passed was cut quite through; by this means I could slip off the ring, while the cap on the outside continued whole, and it was impossible to discover any cut, as only the outside could be examined. My hands, by continued efforts, I so compressed, as to be able to draw them out of the handcuffs. I then filed off the hinge, and made a screw-driver of one of the foot-long flooring nails, with which I could take out the screws at pleasure. The rim round my body was but a small impediment, were it not for the chain which passed from my hand bar, and this I removed by filing an aperture in one of the links, which at the necessary hour I closed with bread rubbed over with rusty iron, first drying it with the heat of my body; and I would wager any sum that, without striking the chain link by link with a hammer, no one not in the secret would have discovered the fracture.

“The window was never strictly examined. I therefore drew the two staples by which the iron bars were fixed to the wall, daily replacing and carefully plastering them over. I procured wire from Gefhardt, and tried how well I could imitate the inner grating. Finding I succeeded tolerably, I cut the real grating totally away, and substituted an artificial one of my own making, by which I obtained a free communication with the outside, additional fresh air, together with all necessary implements, tinder and candles.

“In order that the light might not be seen, I hung the coverlet of my bed before the window, so that I could work fearless and undetected. The floor of my dungeon was not of stone, but of oak plank three inches thick, three beds of which were laid crossways, and were fastened to each other by nails half an inch in diameter and a foot long. Having worked round the head of a nail, I made use of the hole at the end of the bar which separated my hands to draw it out, and this nail, sharpened upon my tombstone, made an excellent chisel.

“I now cut through the board more than an inch in width, that I might work downwards, and having drawn away a piece of wood which was inserted two inches under the wall, I cut this so as to exactly fit. The small crevice it occasioned I stopped up with bread, and strewed over with dust, so as to prevent all suspicions. My labour under this was continued with less precaution, and I had soon worked through my nine-inch planks. Under them I came to a fine white sand, on which the Star Fort was built. My chips I carefully distributed beneath the boards, but I soon saw that, if I had not help from without, I could proceed no farther; for it would be useless to dig, unless I could rid myself of my rubbish.

“Gefhardt supplied me with some ells of cloth, of which I made long narrow bags, stuffed them with earth, and passed them between the iron bars to Gefhardt, who, as he was on guard, scattered or conveyed away their contents. Furnished with room to secrete them under the floor, I obtained more instruments, together with a pair of pistols, powder, ball, and a bayonet. I now discovered that the foundation of my prison, instead of two, was sunk four feet deep. Time, labour, and patience were all necessary to break out unheard and undiscovered; but few things are impossible where resolution is not wanting.

“The hole I made was obliged to be four feet deep, corresponding with the foundation, and wide enough to kneel and to stoop in. The lying down on the floor to work, the continual stooping to throw out the earth, the narrow space in which all must be performed,—these made the labour incredible; and after this daily labour, all things were to be replaced, and my chains again resumed, which alone required some hours to effect.

“I now continued my labour, and found it very possible to break out under the foundation, but Gefhardt had been so terrified by the late accident, that he started a thousand difficulties, in proportion as my end was more nearly accomplished; and at the moment when I wished to concert with him the means of flight, he persisted that it was necessary to find additional help to escape in safety, and not bring both him and myself to destruction. At length we came to a new determination, which, however, after eight months’ incessant labour, rendered my whole project abortive.”

A letter posted by Gefhardt’s wife, containing an unusual number of recommendations, revealed the whole plot; though, after a strict search, the authorities failed to discover any of the signs of Trenck’s activity on either his chains or the flooring of his cell. All that was noticed was the changes he had made in his window, which was immediately closed up with planks. The prisoner was interrogated with threats as to the names of his accomplices, in presence of his guards, and his firmness in refusing to make any revelations proved of great service to him afterwards among men, who were not unwilling to aid a prisoner if they could feel quite certain of not being betrayed. Some days after, all his chains were padlocked together; and his window too was narrowed till it became little better than a mere air-vent. He was at the same time deprived of his bed, and he had no other means of taking repose than by sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, in which position he was half strangled by the weight of the padlock. He became ill, and lay for two months at the point of death without receiving any aid. He was again, however, allowed the use of his bed.

When he had again recovered, he contrived to gain by bribes three of the four officers who attended him, and through them he obtained candles, books, newspapers; and, more precious than all, some tools for cutting through the chains hanging from his padlock. He also, through one of the officers, obtained larger handcuffs, from which he could easily withdraw his hands. He then renewed his subterranean labours with the design of cutting a passage, thirty-seven feet in length, to the gallery beneath the rampart. He made a new opening, however, to avoid working beneath the feet of the sentinels:—

“The work at first proceeded so rapidly that, while I had room to throw back my sand, I was able in one night to gain three feet; but ere I had proceeded ten feet, I discovered all my difficulties. Before I could continue my work, I was obliged to make room for myself, by emptying the sand out of the hole upon the floor of the prison, and this itself was an employment of some hours. The sand was obliged to be thrown out by the hand, and after it thus lay heaped in my prison, it had again to be returned into the hole. I have calculated that, after I had proceeded twenty feet, I was obliged to creep underground in my hole from fifteen hundred to two thousand fathoms within twenty-four hours, in the removal and replacing of the sand. This labour ended, care was to be taken that in none of the crevices of the floor there might be any appearance of this fine white sand. The flooring was next to be exactly replaced, and my chains to be resumed. So severe was the fatigue of one day of this kind, that I was always obliged to rest the three following.

“To reduce my labour as much as possible, I was constrained to make the passage so small that my body only had space to pass, and I had not room to draw my arm back to my head. The work, too, had all to be done naked, otherwise the dirtiness of my shirt would have been remarked; and the sand was wet, water being found at the depth of four feet, where the stratum of the gravel began. At length the expedient of sand bags occurred to me, by which it might be removed out and in more expeditiously. I obtained linen from the officers, but not in sufficient quantities. Suspicions would have been excited had too much linen been brought into the prison. At last I took my sheets, and the ticking that inclosed my straw, and cut them up for sand bags, taking care to lie down on my bed as if ill, when Bruckhausen paid his visit.

“The labour, towards the conclusion, became so intolerable as to excite despondency. I frequently sat contemplating the heaps of sand, during a momentary respite from work; and thinking it impossible I could have strength or time again to replace all things as they were, have resolved patiently to wait the consequences, and leave everything in its present disorder. Yes, I can assure the reader that to effect concealment, I have scarcely had time in twenty-four hours to sit down and eat a morsel of bread. Recollecting, however, the efforts and all the progress I had made, hope would again revive in me, and exhausted strength return, and again would I begin my labours; yet it has frequently happened that my visitors have entered a few minutes after I had reinstated everything in its place.

“When my work was within six or seven feet of being accomplished, a new misfortune happened, that at once frustrated all further attempts. I worked, as I have said, under the foundation of the rampart, near where the sentinels stood. I could disencumber myself of my fetters, except my neck collar and its pendant chain. This, as I worked, though it was fastened, got loose, and the clanking was heard by one of the sentinels, about fifteen feet from my dungeon. The officer was called, they laid their ears to the ground and heard me as I went backward and forward to bring my earth bags. This was reported the next day, and the major, who was my best friend, with the town major, and a smith and mason, entered my prison. I was terrified. The lieutenant, by a sign, gave me to understand I was discovered. An examination was begun; but the officers would not see, and the smith and mason found all, as they thought, safe. Had they examined my bed they would have seen the ticking and sheets were gone. The town major, who was a dull man, was persuaded the thing was impossible, and said to the sentinel, ‘Blockhead, you have heard some mole underground, and not Trenck. How indeed could it be, that he should work underground at such a distance from his dungeon?’ Here the scrutiny ended.

“There was now no time for delay. Had they altered their hour of coming, they must have found me at work; but this, during ten years, never happened, for the governor and town major were stupid men, and the others, poor fellows, wishing me all success, were willingly blind. In a few days I could have broken out; but when ready, I was desirous to wait for the visitation of the man who had treated me so tyrannically, Bruckhausen; but this man, though he wanted understanding, did not want good fortune. He was ill for some time, and his duty devolved on K——. He recovered, and the visitation being over, the doors were no sooner barred than I began my supposed last labour. I had only three feet farther to proceed, and it was no longer necessary that I should bring out the sand, as I had room to throw it behind me. What my anxiety was, what my exertions were, can well be imagined. My evil genius, however, had decreed that the same sentinel who had heard me before, should be that day on guard. He was piqued by vanity to prove he was not the blockhead he had been called, he therefore again laid his ear to the ground, and again heard me burrowing. He called his comrades first, next the major; who came and heard me likewise, they then went outside the palisades and heard me working next the door, at which place I was to break into the gallery. This door they immediately opened, entered the gallery with lanterns, and waited to catch the hunted fox when unearthed.

“Through the first small breach I made I perceived a light, and saw the heads of those who were expecting me. This was indeed a thunderstroke. I crept back, made my way through the sand I had cast behind me, and shudderingly awaited my fate. I had the presence of mind to conceal my pistols, candles, paper, and some money, under the moveable floor. The money was disposed of in various holes, well concealed in the panels of the doors; and I hid my small files and knives under different cracks in the floor. Scarcely were these disposed of before the doors resounded. The floor was covered with sand and sand bags; my handcuffs, however, and the separating bar I had hastily resumed, that they might suppose I had worked with them on, which they were silly enough to credit, highly to my future advantage.”

The passage which had cost Trenck so much trouble was filled up, the flooring repaired, heavier irons replaced those which he had broken, and he was once more deprived of his bed. Bruckhausen and the major interrogated him in presence of the workmen and the soldiers as to the manner in which he had obtained his tools. “My answer,” says Trenck, was ‘Gentlemen, Beelzebub is my best and most intimate friend; he brings me everything I want, and supplies me with light. We play whole nights at piquet, and, guard me as you please, he will finally deliver me out of your power.’

“Some were astonished, others laughed. At length, as they were barring the last door, I called, ‘Come, gentlemen, you have forgotten something of great importance in the interior.’ I had taken up one of my hidden files when they returned: ‘Look you, gentlemen,’ said I, ‘here is a proof of the friendship Beelzebub has for me, he has brought me this in a twinkling.’ Again they examined the cell, and again they shut the doors. While they were so doing I took out a knife and the louis-d’ors. Their consternation was excessive, and I solaced my misfortunes by jesting at such blundering short-sighted keepers. It was soon rumoured through Magdeburg, especially among the simple and vulgar, that I was a magician, to whom the devil brought all that I asked. One Major Holtzkammer, a very selfish man, profited by this report. A foolish citizen had offered him fifty dollars if he might only be permitted to see me through the door, as he was very desirous to see a wizard. Holtzkammer told me, and we jointly determined to sport with his credulity. The major gave me a mask with a monstrous nose, which I put on when the doors were opening, and threw myself in an heroic attitude. The affrighted burgher drew back, but Holtzkammer stopped him, and said, ‘Have patience for some quarter of an hour and you shall see he will assume quite a different countenance.’ The burgher waited. My mask was thrown by, and my face appeared whitened with chalk and made ghastly. The burgher again shrunk back, Holtzkammer kept him in conversation, and I assumed a third facial form. I tied my hair under my nose, and fastened a pewter dish to my breast, and when the door opened a third time, I thundered, ‘Begone, rascals, or I’ll twist your necks awry.’ They both ran, and the silly burgher, eased of his fifty dollars, scampered first.”

Some time after this Trenck meditated another and a far bolder plan of escape. The garrison of Magdeburg was but 900 strong, and there were at least 7000 Croat prisoners of war in the fortress. He proposed to gain access to the Croats by bribing his jailers, and then putting himself at their head to seize the place for Maria Theresa. He sent to Vienna for 2,000 ducats, but failed to obtain them, and the project came to nothing.

He then once more began his mining operations, and had already made considerable progress with them, when the governor of the fortress becoming mad, he was replaced by the hereditary Prince of Hesse Cassel, who treated Trenck with so much kindness that the grateful prisoner pledged himself not to attempt to escape. This state of things continued for eighteen months, at the end of which time the prince, leaving the fortress in consequence of the death of his father, Trenck considered himself justified in making another effort for liberty. He accordingly procured the necessary tools with the same facility as before, and was opening up one of his old galleries, when an accident happened that had nearly put an end to his project and his life.

“While mining under the foundation of the ramparts,” he says, “just as I was going to carry out the sand bag, I struck my foot against a stone in the wall, which fell down and closed up the passage. What was my horror to find myself thus buried alive! After a short time for reflection, I began to work the sand away from the side that I might obtain room to turn round. By good fortune there were some feet of empty space into which I threw the sand as I worked it away, but the small quantity of air soon made it so foul that I a thousand times wished myself dead, and made several attempts to strangle myself. Further labour began to seem impossible. Thirst almost deprived me of my senses, but as often as I put my mouth to the sand I inhaled fresh air. My sufferings were incredible, and I imagine I passed full eight hours in this distraction of horror. Of all dreaded deaths surely such a one as this is the most dreadful. My spirits fainted, again I somewhat recovered, again I began to labour, but the earth was as high as my chin, and I had no more space into which I might throw the sand, that I might turn round. I made a more desperate effort, drew my body into a ball and turned round. I now faced the stone, which was as wide as the whole passage, but there being an opening at the top I respired fresher air. My next labour was to root away the sand under the stone and let it sink, so that I might creep over, and by this means at length I once more happily arrived in my dungeon.”

He had hardly time to clear away the traces of his work, and to put all in order, before he received the daily visit of his jailers. A change of the garrison and other circumstances somewhat hindered the accomplishment of his design, but the gallery was at length finished, and an officer had even promised to bring him false keys to open his prison doors. The thought that he was on the very eve of liberty turned his head, as he admits himself.

“I was then vain enough, stupid enough, mad enough,” he says, “to form the design of casting myself on the generosity and magnanimity of the great Frederic! Should this fail, I still thought my lieutenant a certain saviour. Having heated my imagination with this lamentable scheme, I awaited the hour of visitation with great anxiety. The major entered. ‘I know, sir,’ I said, ‘the great Prince Ferdinand is again in Magdeburg’ (my new friend had told me this): ‘Be pleased to inform him that he may first examine my prison, and double the sentinels, and afterwards give me his commands, stating at what hour it will please him I should make my appearance in perfect freedom on the glacis of Klosterbergen. If I prove myself capable of this, I then hope for the protection of Prince Ferdinand, and I trust he will relate my proceedings to the king, who may thereby be convinced of my innocence and the perfect clearness of my conscience.’

“The major was astonished, and he supposed my brain turned. The proposal he held to be ridiculous, and the performance impossible. As I, however, persisted, he rode to town and returned with the sub-governor, Reichmann, the town major, Riding, and the major of inspection. The answer they delivered was, ‘That the prince promised me his protection, the king’s favour, and a certain release from my chains, should I prove the truth of my assertion.’ I required they would appoint a time; they ridiculed the thing as impossible, and at last said that it would be sufficient could I only prove the practicability of such a scheme; but should I refuse they would immediately break up the whole flooring and place sentinels in my dungeon night and day; adding, ‘The governor would not admit of any actual breaking out.’

“After the most solemn promises of good faith, I immediately disencumbered myself of my chains, raised up the flooring, gave them my arms and implements, and also two keys, that my friend had procured me, to the doors of the subterranean gallery. I desired them to enter this gallery and sound with their sword hilts at a place through which I could easily break in a few minutes. I further described the road I was to take through the gallery, informed them that two of the doors had not been shut for six months, and that they already had the keys to the others, adding, I had horses waiting at the glacis that would be ready the moment I wanted them.

“They went, examined, returned, and put questions, which I answered with as much precision as the engineer could have done who built the Star Fort. They left me with seeming friendship, continued away about an hour, came back, told me the prince was astonished at what he had heard, that he wished me all happiness, and then took me unfettered to the guard-house. The major came in the evening, treated us with a sumptuous supper, assured me everything would happen in accordance with my wishes, and that Prince Ferdinand had already written to Berlin.

“But all these promises were illusory. The guard was reinforced next day; two grenadiers entered the officers’ room as sentinels; the whole guard loaded with ball before my eyes; the drawbridges were raised in open day, and precautions were taken as if it were supposed I intended to make attempts as desperate as those I had made at Glatz.”

Nothing had come from the Duke of Brunswick. The commandant and the officers, dreading the king’s displeasure, had spread the rumour that a new attempt at escape had been discovered on the part of the prisoner. The cell was repaired in eight days and paved with great flagstones, and the unfortunate Trenck was again placed there, with a single chain about his feet, which weighed as much as all those he had previously worn put together. The duke, however, was some time afterwards informed of all the circumstances, and he spoke to the king, who kept Trenck in prison another year and then set him at liberty.

It is well known that Trenck, after a life of constant agitation, perished on the scaffold of the revolution with André Chénier.—(Holcroft’s Life of Trenck.)

CASSANOVA DE SEINGALT.

1757.

“The word tribunal frightened me so much that I had only the strength left to yield him a passive obedience. I was led to a gondola, and Messer Grande took his seat by my side with an escort of four men. When we reached his house he offered me some coffee, but I refused it. I was then locked up in one of the rooms and closely guarded. At about three the captain of the archers came in and said that he had received orders to take me to prison, and I followed him without saying a word. We again took to the gondola, and after passing along many of the smaller canals came at last to the Grand Canal and landed on the Prison Quay (Riva de Schiavoni). We mounted several staircases and crossed the Bridge of Sighs, and at length found ourselves in the presence of a person in the dress of a patrician, who just glanced at me, and then ordered the guard to take me to my cell.”

Cassanova was now placed in a small chamber, opening, with many others, on a large gallery, in which were heaped together a number of the most diverse objects—official papers, decrees of the tribunals, and articles of furniture of every kind. The prisoners took their exercise in this gallery every day while the gaolers were sweeping out the cells. Cassanova suffered a good deal from the heat during the first few days of his incarceration, and fell ill, but he soon recovered and began to form plans for making his escape. One day, while exercising in the gallery, he found a kind of round bolt of iron and a piece of marble, and, hastily concealing them, took them back with him to his cell. He pointed the iron at his leisure by grinding it on the marble, though this was an operation of great difficulty and of the most fatiguing kind.

“After pondering for several days over the best way of using my chisel—or, rather, crowbar, for it was of considerable length—I resolved to make a hole with it through the flooring underneath my bed. I knew that the room to which this would give me access was that in which I had been received by the secretary of the inquisitors on my arrival; and I thought that if I could contrive to secrete myself under the council table during the night I might escape by running hastily out of the room as soon as the door was opened in the morning. I did not forget that in all probability I should find an archer on guard in the room, but I felt confident that my crowbar would enable me to dispose of him. The great difficulty lay in the thickness of the flooring. I should, perhaps, be engaged for two months in cutting my way through, and how was I to avoid discovery, meanwhile, when the guards came to sweep out my room? To forbid them to sweep it would be to awaken their suspicions, more especially as I had previously insisted on its being kept very clean. I began, however, by telling them not to trouble themselves to put the place in order; but in a few days Laurent, the gaoler, asked me the meaning of this unusual request. I replied that the dust raised by the sweepers was peculiarly disagreeable to me. This satisfied him for awhile, but he soon grew suspicious again, and not only ordered the cell to be swept out, but himself examined it most carefully in every corner with a lighted candle.”

Cassanova then cut his finger and rolled his handkerchief round the wound, telling Laurent that the sweeping had affected his lungs, and that he was beginning to spit blood. The surgeon of the place, who was, without doubt, in the prisoner’s interest, bled him, and declared that his life was in danger. The result was that the guards were ordered to discontinue the sweeping.

“My resolution grew stronger every day; but the time for beginning the great work of my deliverance had not yet arrived, for the weather was so cold that I could not hold the crowbar in my frozen hands. The long winter nights made me wretched, for I was obliged to pass nineteen mortal hours in darkness; and even during the day, the light that entered by the window was not strong enough to enable me to read. The possession of even a wretched kitchen lamp would have rendered me happy; but how was I to make one. I required a cup, a wick, oil, a flint and steel, besides tinder and matches. But nevertheless I set to work to obtain them, and succeeded after repeated efforts, in which I availed myself of every pretext my ingenuity could devise. As soon as the lamp was in working order, I fixed on the first Monday in Lent for the commencement of my operations on the floor, for I was apprehensive of being disturbed during the carnival.”

His fears were well founded; a Jew was sent to bear him company in his cell; and for two whole months, Cassanova was not relieved of this man’s unwelcome presence.

“As soon as I was alone again I began to work with renewed activity. It was above all things necessary to avoid delay, now that I had actually cut into the planks, for a new companion might have insisted, as the Jew had done, on having the prison swept. I first removed my bed, and then throwing myself upon my chest, crowbar in hand, began to hack away at the boards, carefully collecting the débris in a napkin which I spread out by my side. I have said that I had to hack away the boards. I ought rather to have said that I was obliged to pick them to pieces with the point of my crowbar. The work was fatiguing in the extreme, and at first I brought away pieces no bigger than a grain of wheat; but after a time my labour was cheered with more encouraging results.

“The plank I had selected was of very tough wood, and was about sixteen inches in breadth. I continued to pick it to pieces for about six hours, and then I carefully gathered up the débris in the napkin, in order to throw them away behind a heap of papers in the gallery. They formed a bundle four or five times as large as the hole from which I had taken them. I put the bed back in its place, and on the morning contrived to get rid of the rubbish without being perceived. By the next day, having worked my way through the first plank, which was about two inches in thickness, I came upon a second of nearly the same solidity, as far as I could judge. But I was so afraid of having a new visitor quartered upon me, that I now wielded my crowbar with even greater energy than before. In less than three weeks I had made a hole clean through all the three planks; but judge of my despair when I found that these rested on a tesselated marble pavement, which turned the point of the tool and seemed to defy all my efforts to remove it. I was cast down, disgusted, heart-broken, in a word; but at length, I know not how, the story of Hannibal came unto my mind, and I forthwith emptied into the hole a bottle of very strong vinegar which I had by me. In the morning—whether it was owing to the action of the vinegar or to my renewed strength, I cannot say—I was able to remove the pieces of marble by pulverising the cement which held them together; and in four days the mosaic was destroyed. I found another plank beneath it, but this was no more than I expected, and I concluded that it would be the last, for I was tolerably familiar with the plan on which these ceilings and floors were made. I had great difficulty, however, in cutting through it, for as the hole in the planking was over ten inches in depth, it was well nigh impossible to use the crowbar at all at the bottom of it.

“At about three in the afternoon of the 25th June, while I was working quite naked, and covered with sweat, in the hole, I heard—with an emotion of agony I can hardly describe—the sound of a door being unbolted in the corridor which led to my cell. I blew out the candle hastily, left crowbar and napkin in the hole, wheeled my bed in its place and threw myself upon it as though dead; and in a moment after, the door of my cell flew open, and Laurent came in. Two seconds earlier and he would have surprised me. He was about to walk straight up to me when I uttered a cry of pain that made him draw back. ‘Good heaven, Signor!’ he cried, ‘I pity you, for this place would be enough to suffocate any one. Get up and give thanks to Providence for having sent you an excellent companion.’

“The new comer seemed to think he was entering the infernal regions, for he began to cry out, ‘What a heat! what a stench!’ and Laurent ordered us out into the gallery, in order, as he said, that the cell might be purged of the unpleasant odour of oil that hung about it. The pain and surprise with which I heard these last words was extreme. I had forgotten in my hurry to snuff out the smouldering wick of the lamp after having extinguished the flame. I thought that Laurent knew everything, and that the Jew had completely betrayed me; but in reality he had not discovered the secret of the lamp.”

Eight days after that he was relieved of his unwelcome companion.

The next day he says, “Laurent having rendered me an account of the money that belonged to me, I found I had an odd sum of four sequins remaining, and I won his favour by telling him he might keep it as a present for his wife. I did not tell him it was for the rent of my lamp, but he was quite free to think so if he pleased. After this I pursued

my labours for a considerable time without any interruption whatever, but I did not witness the completion of them till the 23rd August. This delay was due to a very natural accident in cutting through the last plank. I had formed at first, a very small hole indeed, in order that I might safely reconnoitre the room in which the inquisitors sat. But I found that the opening was quite close to one of the thick beams on which the ceiling was supported; this of course obliged me to change the direction of my little shaft, for it would have cost me too much labour to have cut through the beam. I worked for some time in great doubt and fear, lest the other beams should be placed so closely together as to bar the passage to my body, but to my great joy, I soon discovered that this alarm was groundless. It is needless to say that I always carefully covered up the little peep hole when I was not actually looking through it, lest a single ray of light from my lamp should discover me to the inquisitors below.

“I fixed on the eve of St Augustine’s Day for my flight, for I knew that at that time there would be no one in the room contiguous to the council chamber, through which I should have to pass. This was on the 27th, but on the 25th, I was doomed to suffer a misfortune, the bare recollection of which makes me tremble as I write.

“At the stroke of midnight I heard some one drawing the bolts of my cell door, and my heart began to beat as violently as though I were a criminal who knew that his last hour was come. I had barely time to throw myself upon my bed, when Laurent came in, and said: ‘I congratulate you on the good news I bring.’ This made me tremble all the more, for believing nothing less than that he came to announce my restoration to liberty, I dreaded lest a discovery of my attempt to escape should lead the judges to revoke their pardon. Laurent told me to follow him. I asked him to wait a few moments while I put my dress in order. ‘No need to wait for that,’ said he, ‘for I am going to change your lodging from this miserable den, to a well lit and lofty room, from which you can see the half of Venice.’

“I could not utter a word, and I felt my strength rapidly giving way. I begged him to give me a little vinegar, and to tell the tribunal in my name, that while I thanked them for their generous consideration, I should greatly prefer to be left where I was.

“ ‘You make me laugh,’ he replied. ‘Are you mad? You are offered the chance of removal from the infernal regions to paradise; and you refuse to profit by your good fortune. Come, you must obey. Get up at once: I will give you my arm, and your clothes and books shall be carried to your new room.’

“Seeing that resistance was impossible, I got up, and I was somewhat comforted to hear him order an archer to move my bed, for that contained my invaluable crowbar. How I wished that at the same time it could have been made to hold the floor itself, through which I had cut with such incredible labour and pains. I can truthfully declare that though my body left this horrible dungeon, my spirit remained behind.

“Leaning on the shoulder of Laurent, who tried to put me on a better footing with myself, with his abominable pleasantries, I passed through several long corridors, until I reached a room about twelve feet in length, and very narrow, the barred aperture of which looking out on the two windows of a corridor beyond it, commanded the view of Venice, of which he had spoken. I was not disposed at that particular moment to find much pleasure in the prospect, but I was afterwards glad to discover that the window admitted not only light, but fresh air, which tempered the intolerable heat and closeness of the atmosphere of the place. As soon as I entered the room, Laurent had my chair brought in, and told me that he would at once order the removal of the rest of my effects. I sat for some time immoveable as a statue, expecting every moment that the storm would burst over my head, but too apathetic from despair to dread it. I was in this state when two sbirri came in with the bed. They left again, to fetch the rest of my things, and I sat there for two hours without seeing any one, the door remaining open all the time. I was a prey to a host of conflicting emotions, but I found it impossible to fix any one impression clearly on my mind. I at length heard hasty steps, and then Laurent came in, foaming at the mouth, and blaspheming in a manner frightful to hear. He began by ordering me to hand over to him the hatchet and the other tools with which I had cut through the flooring; and to give the name of the soldier who had furnished me with them. I replied calmly, and without stirring, that I really did not understand him. He then told some of his people to search me, but before they could approach, I stripped myself of my scanty clothing, and assuming a threatening attitude, cried out ‘Do your office, but beware every one of you of laying hands on me.’ They turned over my mattrass, my paillasse, and the cushions of my chair, but they found nothing.

“ ‘You will not tell me then,’ said Laurent, ‘how you found your tools, but never fear, I shall find out how to make you speak.’

“ ‘If it be true,’ I replied, ‘that I have made a hole or two, I shall be prepared to prove that it is you who have furnished me with the tools, and that I have already returned them to you.’

“At this threat, which made one or two of his people smile, whom he had probably irritated by some act of rigour, he stamped on the ground, tore his hair, and rushed out of the place like one possessed. His people came back, and brought me all my effects, with the exception of the stove and lamp. Before quitting the corridor, and after he had closed my door, he shut up the windows by which I had received the supply of air, but, with all his knowledge of his trade, he heedlessly forgot to search my armchair; and so, thanks to Providence, I yet kept possession of my little crowbar.”

The next day Laurent brought the prisoner some provisions of the worst quality; and an archer, furnished with an iron bar, sounded the place everywhere—particularly under the bed.

“I observed,” says Cassanova, “that he did not notice the ceiling, so I at once fixed on that route for leaving this horrible place. I could attempt nothing however, without being instantly discovered. The cell was quite new, and the faintest mark of chisel or crowbar, would have been at once visible to my guardians.”

On the following days Laurent continued to bring him food it was almost impossible to swallow, and to refuse to allow him either to have his cell cleaned, or to open the windows. On the eighth day, Cassanova vented his impatience in some angry words, and asked for a reckoning of the money belonging to him in his jailer’s hands. Laurent promised to furnish it next day, and in the meantime he brought the prisoner a basket of lemons, and a nice roast fowl, on the part of M. de Bragadin.

“When he had brought my account I cast my eyes over it, and told him to give the odd money to his wife, with the exception of one sequin, which was to be presented to the archers who waited on me. Laurent then being left alone with me, addressed me thus: ‘You have already said Monsieur, that it was from me you received the tools with which you made that enormous hole. I am inquisitive enough about that, but more so about another thing. In the name of Fortune, how did you contrive to make your lamp?’ ‘You assisted me in that, as in the other matters,’ I replied. ‘Oh!’ he exclaimed, adding after a few moments, when he had recovered from his astonishment, ‘I did not think wit consisted in lying and effrontery.’ ‘I am not lying: it is you who with your own hands gave me all that was necessary—oil, flint, matches,—I already had the rest.’ ‘You are right: but you cannot convince me so easily that I supplied you with the tools for digging that enormous hole.’ ‘Assuredly, for I received nothing from anybody but you.’ ‘Mercy, what do I hear! tell me how, when, and where I gave you a hatchet!’ ‘I will tell you everything; and I will speak the truth, but it can only be in presence of the secretary.’ ‘I don’t want to know anything more, and I believe all you have said,’ returned Laurent hastily; ‘I beg of you to be silent, for remember I am but a poor man, and have children.’ He then went, pressing his hands to his head.

“I congratulated myself heartily on having found the means to make myself feared by this fellow. I saw that his own interest compelled him to conceal from his masters all that had passed.... I had ordered Laurent to buy me the works of Maffei. ‘I will borrow the books for you from some one here,’ he said, ‘and you can lend him some of yours in return. By that plan you will save your money.’ ”

Cassanova consented, and gave a book in exchange for another that Laurent brought him.

“Delighted at the opportunity of entering into a correspondence with some one who might perhaps help me to escape from the place, I opened the book as soon as Laurent was gone, and read with intense joy a paraphrase of these words of Seneca. ‘Calamitosus est animus futuri anxius,’ done in six good lines, and written on the fly leaf. I made as many more lines at once, and had recourse to the following expedients for copying them out. I had let the nail of my little finger grow until it was very long, and I had only to cut it to a point to make a pen. I was just on the point of pricking my finger, to make ink out of my own blood, when it struck me I could write equally well with mulberry juice, of which I had a quantity by me. Besides the six lines, I wrote out a catalogue of all my books, and slid it down the back of the book which I had borrowed. It must be remembered that in Italy, the books are for the most part bound in parchment, and on opening them the back forms a kind of pocket. On the title page I inscribed the word ‘Latet.’ I was impatient to have an answer, so when Laurent came in the morning, I told him I had read my book through, and wanted another. In a few moments he returned with the second volume. I was no sooner alone than I opened it, and found a slip of paper, containing these words, written in Latin: ‘We are both in the same prison, and we both discover with the greatest pleasure that the ignorance of a miserly gaoler has procured us a privilege almost unexampled in places of this sort. I, who write to you, am Marin Balbi, a noble Venetian, and my companion is the Count André Asquin, of Udine. He charges me to tell you that all the books he possesses are catalogued on a slip in the back of this volume, and that they are wholly at your service, but we both warn you that you must use the greatest circumspection to prevent Laurent from learning what is going on.’ I am bound to say that I thought this exhortation to prudence, written openly on a leaf not belonging to the book, rather odd. It was too much to expect that Laurent would not at one time or other open the book he carried, and if he should find a sheet of manuscript, he could easily find some one to read it for him, and then all would be discovered. The note led me to conclude that my correspondent was but a kind of plain-speaking blunderer. I looked over the catalogue, and then in reply wrote my name, the manner of my arrest, and my ignorance of the cause, with the hopes that I cherished of soon regaining my liberty. Balbi, who was a monk, sent in return a letter of sixteen pages, in which he gave me the history of all his misfortunes, and told me that he had been four years in prison. His companion did not write.”

The monk’s history proved that he had nothing of the ecclesiastic in him but the title. It showed him to be a sensualist, a poor reasoner, a mischievous rogue, and a careless and ungrateful fool. At least, such were the conclusions that Cassanova drew from it, and the event satisfied him that they were not incorrect.

“I found pencil, pens, and paper in the back of the book, and these enabled me to write at my ease. Balbi next furnished me with the history of all the persons confined in the place during his imprisonment. He told me that the archer Nicholas had given him his information, and had, besides, brought him everything he required; and in proof of the former statement, he gave me a pretty exact account of my own abortive effort to escape. It had taken two hours to repair the damage I had done, and Laurent had forbidden the workmen engaged, as well as the archers, to mention the matter, under pain of death. ‘Another day,’ said the archer, ‘and Cassanova would have escaped, and Laurent’s life would hardly have been worth an hour’s purchase; for with all his surprise at the sight of the hole, there can be no doubt that he himself unwittingly supplied the instruments with which it was made.’ The monk concluded by begging me to give him an account of the whole affair, and in particular to inform him how I had obtained my tools, adding, that I might count safely on his discretion.

“I had no doubt whatever as to his curiosity, but I was absolutely without confidence in his discretion, especially after the proof of it he had just given me in his foolish request. I thought, however, I might make him useful, for he seemed just the kind of man to follow my directions in everything. I began a reply to it; but while writing it a suspicion crossed my mind, which induced me to hold it back for a time. What if this correspondence might, after all, be a mere device of Laurent’s for finding out how I obtained my tools! But, in order to satisfy Balbi without compromising myself, I told him that I had made the opening by means of a strong knife, which I had hidden in the sill of the corridor window. In less than three days I was satisfied that the suspicion was groundless, for Laurent took no notice of the window-sill. Balbi, too, wrote to say that he could easily understand how I had concealed the knife, for Laurent himself had told him that I had not been searched on entering the prison. He concluded by begging me to send him my knife, through Nicholas, in whom, he assured me, I might safely confide. The carelessness of this monk was almost inconceivable. I wrote to tell him that I was not by any means inclined to share my secrets with Nicholas, and that I was still less disposed to trust them to paper.

“My suspicions were, however, quite set at rest, and I again began to think about my escape. I reflected in this way:—I wish at any price to procure my liberty. The crowbar I have is an excellent one, but it is impossible to use it, for every part of my cell, except the ceiling, is sounded and examined every day. To escape from here I must make a hole through the ceiling; but that will be no easy matter, working, as I do, from below; and in no case will it be the affair of a day. I want an ally, who would be willing to escape with me. There was not much choice, and the only person whose name suggested itself to my mind was the monk. He was twenty-eight years of age, and, though he was not rich in good sense, I thought that the love of liberty—that most enduring of man’s passions—would, at least, give him resolution enough to obey my instructions. I was obliged to commence with a resolution to confide everything to him, and then to find out how to make him my instrument—both very difficult points.

“I began by asking him if he desired his liberty, and if he were willing to risk everything for the sake of procuring it with me. He replied that both his companion and himself were capable of any enterprise that might lead to freedom, but that it would be folly to peril one’s life in schemes that had no reasonable prospect of success. He filled four long pages with a list of the impossibilities which overawed his poor spirit. I replied that in forming my plans I paid no attention to mere difficulties of detail, for that I felt sure of being able to overcome them the moment they presented themselves, and I went on to give him my word of honour that I would set him free if he would follow my directions in everything. He gave the required promise, and I then informed him that I had a crowbar some twenty inches in length, and that by means of this instrument he was to break through the ceiling of his cell, and then make a hole in the wall that separated us, and join me, and that afterwards he was to help me to break through my ceiling and to make my way through the opening.

“ ‘When we have arrived at that point,’ I added, ‘your task will be done, and mine will begin, and I will undertake to set you and the Count Asquin at liberty.’

“He replied that when he had helped me out of my cell we should still be nevertheless in prison,—that we should simply have effected a change of place without any corresponding change of circumstances, for we should be wandering in the gallery, cut off from the outer world by the three strong doors.

“ ‘I know that very well, reverend father,’ I replied; ‘but we are not going to leave the place by the doors at all. My plan is complete, and I feel certain of success. All that I ask of you is exactness and fidelity in the execution of your part of it, and some self-control in the matter of raising objections. Try to think only of a way of getting the crowbar conveyed to you without exciting the suspicion of the man who carries it. In the meantime ask the jailer to buy you some hangings ornamented with the images of saints, and cover your cell with them. The saintly images will remove all suspicion from Laurent’s mind, and they will serve excellently well to hide the hole in the ceiling. It will take you several days to make the hole, and you can by this means always contrive to hide the signs of your activity. I would undertake that part of the plan myself, but I am already suspected, as you know.’

“Although I urged him to find out a means for the removal of the crowbar, I tried constantly to discover one myself, and at length I had an idea, which I hastened to carry out. I told Laurent to buy me a copy of a Bible in folio, which had just appeared. I hoped to be able to place my crowbar in the back of this Bible, and thus to get it conveyed to the monk. But as soon as I obtained the book I saw that it was shorter than the instrument by just two inches. My correspondent had already written to inform me that his cell was covered with images, and I had told him of my plan for sending him the crowbar, and of the difficulty I had met with. I was however firmly resolved to send him the implement by some means, and at length I hit on the following stratagem. I told Laurent that I wished to celebrate St. Michael’s day by feasting on a dish of maccaroni with cheese, and that in return for the politeness of the person who had lent me the books, I thought of sending him a dish especially prepared by myself. Laurent observed that the gentleman was very anxious to read the large book, which had cost three sequins. ‘Very well,’ I replied, ‘I will send it to him with the maccaroni, only bring me the very largest dish you have in the place, for I wish to make him a present worth his acceptance.’ I then wrapped the crowbar up in paper and placed it in the back of the book, taking care that it projected equally at either end. I was sure that if I placed a good dishfull of maccaroni on the Bible, Laurent’s attention would be too much occupied by that delicacy to allow him any opportunity to discover the hiding-place of the crowbar. I prepared Balbi for all that was about to happen, and enjoined him above all to be careful to take both the dish and the book from the jailer’s hands.

“On the appointed day Laurent came earlier than was his wont, with a pot full of boiling maccaroni, and all the ingredients for seasoning it. I then melted a quantity of butter, and placing the maccaroni in the dish, I poured the butter over it until it touched the very edges. The dish was an enormous one, and it very greatly exceeded the book in size. All this was done at the door of my cell while Laurent was standing outside. When everything was ready, I carefully lifted Bible and dish, and placing the back of the book towards the gaoler, I told him to hold out his arms, to be very careful not to spill the sauce, and to make the best of his way to the other cell. While giving him this important commission I kept my eyes fixed on his, and I was delighted to see that he did not remove his gaze from the dish, for fear of spilling the butter. He suggested that it might be better to take the dish first, and then to return for the Bible, but I replied that the present would lose something of its value if both were not sent together. He then complained that I had put too much butter, and warned me laughingly that if he should spill any of it he would not hold himself responsible for the damage.

“As soon as I saw the Bible in the simpleton’s arms, I felt certain of success, for the ends of the crowbar were quite imperceptible. I followed him with my eyes until I saw him enter the antechamber, and in a few moments, the monk, blowing his nose three times, gave the signal that everything had turned out well. Laurent’s speedy reappearance, too, gave me another intimation of the same joyful event.

“Father Balbi lost no time in carrying out my intimations and in eight days he had made an opening which he concealed with a piece of bread crumb. On the 8th October,