THE THIRD VICTORY OF BERG ISEL.
The numbers of the peasantry accumulated during the night. Hofer
and Speckbacher were on the Jauffen, and thousands flocked to their
standard. The rage of the Duke of Dantzic, when he heard of the defeat
of the Saxons in the gorge of the Eisach, was extreme. He refused to
believe the road impassable, and sent Count Arco in a carriage, with
only two outriders, to install himself governor of Brixen. The count
came back more quickly than he went. The duke, foaming with rage,
set out on the foolish journey himself; declaring he would date his
despatches "Botzen" before he was a league out of Innsbruck. "Better
wait till we are there," suggested one of his officers.
He told the innkeeper's wife at Sterzing that "he was going to chew up
the cursed peasants;" but he did not get as far as the Saxons had done.
The rear of his detachment was attacked by a body of Tyrolese with
great fury, and completely routed; they tore the dragoons from their
horses, and killed them with the butt-ends of their muskets. The whole
division dispersed; and the duke made the best of his way to Innsbruck,
which he ignominiously entered, disguised as a common trooper. And thus
his hopes of chewing up the peasantry were, for the season, defeated.
Seventeen hundred Bavarians, advancing from Landeck towards Prutz, with
the design of falling on the rear of Hofer's troops near Sterzing,
were intercepted by a body of Tyrolese, who, after an obstinate fight
of several hours, compelled them to retreat with great loss. At break
of day the peasants recommenced their fire; but, finding the Bavarians
would not answer it, a pause of several hours ensued, at the end of
which the Tyrolese, impatient of inaction, mustered to the number of
about three hundred, armed with pitchforks, pikes, and scythes; and
shouting loudly, precipitated themselves towards the enemy.
The Bavarians, terrified at such formidable and unusual weapons of
war, instantly hoisted a white flag, and unconditionally surrendered.
About nine hundred men and two hundred horses thus fell into the hands
of these three hundred Tyrolese, the rest having fallen or escaped. Of
the peasants, only seven were killed and four wounded. Perhaps it was
on this occasion that they drove their prisoners into a large cavern,
threatening to shoot those who endeavoured to escape.
Thus, without the help of the Austrians, the Tyrolese were successful
in almost every encounter with their enemies; and these successes
inspired them with the most confident hopes of effecting the liberation
of their country.
And now the Tyrolese drew together to fight their third victorious
battle of Berg Isel. Their numbers amounted, at the utmost, to eighteen
thousand, including about three hundred Austrian volunteers; while
the Duke of Dantzic found himself at the head of twenty-five thousand
disciplined troops, with forty pieces of artillery. But his men were
unwilling to fight; the Tyrolese were burning to begin.
Hofer commanded in person, and took up his quarters, as he had done in
May, at the little inn of "the Spade," at Schönberg; where the bed on
which he slept is shown with fond reverence to this day. The right wing
was commanded by Speckbacher, under whom the brave Count Mohr led on
the peasants of the Vintsghan.
Father Joachim came up with the main body during the night; and,
learning where Hofer was, immediately repaired to him.
The tired Sandwirth was soundly sleeping when a vigorous hand shook him
by the arm, and he started up, looking a little bewildered, till he
recognised the Capuchin.
"Is it break of day, father?" said he, rubbing his eyes. "I'm ready."
"Arise, and follow me," said Father Joachim briefly.
Hofer, in some surprise, rose, hastily dressed, girt on his sword, and
mutely obeyed. The Capuchin went out into the open air, looked up a
moment at the stars, and then strode forward without speaking a word.
After a time, they found themselves in a little country churchyard,
with garlands, crosses, and little vessels of holy water over many a
rustic grave. The Capuchin walked on towards a large crucifix; and then
pausing and addressing his companion, said in a low voice, "Let us
pray; but not too loudly, for we are close to the Austrian lines."
The next moment they were murmuring--
Lord, have mercy upon us.
Christ, have mercy upon us.
Lord, have mercy upon us.
Then Father Joachim poured out his soul in prayer and supplication--in
Latin? Oh no!--There are emergencies when the stanchest Roman Catholic
must, if he pray at all, make his petitions in the words that come
first. Father Joachim's were strong and simple.
The action commenced at six o'clock the next morning, August the 12th.
The plan of attack very much resembled that of the 29th of May.
"The good old plan,
That they should take who have the power,
And they should keep who can;"
--in other words, that the Bavarians should take Berg Isel if they
could dislodge the Tyrolese, and that the Tyrolese should not only keep
their own, but drive their enemies completely off the field and make
themselves masters of the bridges and approaches to Innsbruck.
No capital blunder seems to have been committed on either side. For
several hours, the struggle raged with fury. The bridge of the Sill
was contested with great bravery by both sides; but at length the
Bavarians gave way, and were to be seen flying in every direction. The
Tyrolese only had fifty killed and a hundred and thirty-two wounded.
The Bavarians estimated their own loss at five thousand; and seventeen
hundred wounded fell into the hands of their victors. In a few days
the enemy had quitted the country, committing every excess as they
retreated.
On the 15th of August, Hofer, having a third time delivered his
country, made his triumphal entry into Innsbruck. His wife and children
were in a balcony to watch his entry. The old streets echoed with
the continuous tramp of thousands of feet, and the merry peals of
church bells were drowned in the shouts. He looked grave, not elated,
and directed his steps, as before, to the Imperial Church; where,
just before he crossed the threshold, the multitude renewed their
acclamations. He lifted up his hand and finger in admonitory action.
"Hist! Now, prayer; not shouting.--One above--"
These simple words were heard by all. After the service, he proceeded
to the Imperial Palace, which thenceforth became his home while
he remained in Innsbruck. Here, his family, terrified and elated,
clustered round him. He embraced them with emotion, then quitted them
and went out on the balcony, to address the crowd below. And thus, in
simple phrase, he spoke--
"Now, God salute you all, my beloved Innsbruckers! Because you would
have me, whether or no, your Obercommandant, so am I bound to you.
But there are some here who are no Innsbruckers. All that will be my
weapon-brothers, must be ready to fight for God, for our emperor, and
our fatherland, like brave and honest Tyrolese. Those who will not do
that, should rather go directly home. My real weapon-brothers will not
forsake me; neither will I forsake you, so true as I am called Andreas
Hofer. Now I have spoken to you--you have spoken to me: so God preserve
you all."
For the multitude, according to their wont, were so fond of hearing
their own sweet voices, that even these few sentences had been
frequently interrupted by--
"Save you, Hofer! Hurrah!--We're all true weapon-brothers. And those
that are not shall be ducked in the Inn. Long live the Emperor. Hofer
for ever. Hurrah!"
The Sandwirth kept his family with him only forty-eight hours. He had
a very great dread of the allurements of what, to him, appeared a
very luxurious capital. So Anna and Theresa, having strayed about the
city with the children, visited the Hoffkirche, the market, and the
public walks, and enjoyed the female privilege of a little shopping,
contentedly retraced their way home on mules; for there are none but
mule-paths to the Passeyrthal.
And now, certain barons, counts, and colonels in the Austrian service,
who had seen a little of Hofer during the late campaign, amused
themselves greatly by what they termed his "ridiculous" assumption in
taking up his quarters in the imperial palace; and diverted one another
with their imaginations of the banquettings and entertainments he would
give. They quoted the proverb about setting a peasant on horseback,
and made humorous allusions to Sancho in Barataria.
The table-expenses, however, of this gluttonous man and winebibber,
during his abode in the imperial palace, were just one florin a day.
And if his elevation to a post of authority was as unexpected as
Sancho's, his decisions in matters of justice and good order were
as remarkable for plain sense. These, he made known to his loving
countrymen by sundry homely proclamations, which were most exquisitely
relished by the colonels, counts, and barons aforesaid, but taken in
sober earnest by the people for whom they were intended. All these
began with "Beloved country-folk," and "In the name of God, the
Emperor, and the fatherland."
One of them enforced a strict restitution of all unlawfully obtained
property: another prohibited every species of plunder, and enjoined
a better observance of the Sabbath: and directed that taverns and
dancing-rooms should be closed on that holy day. Another dissuaded
from music, except in moderation; another recommended women not to
wear their dresses too low, too scanty, or of too thin materials, (in
all which the fashionable classes flagrantly offended in 'the year
nine,') lest the valiant mountainers should be led astray by their
attractions. All which was delightful to the counts, colonels, and
barons.
But the first proclamation of all could afford no food for ridicule.
It called upon all the inhabitants of the Tyrol to observe a day
of general thanksgiving to Almighty God for blessing their cause
and delivering their country. It need not be said that it met with
universal and devout acceptance.
Truly it seemed as if the day had been won.
Hofer never affected the least departure from the form of government
established in the country by Austria. No step was taken by him
but in the name of the Emperor, which the people gladly obeyed. He
levied taxes to enable him to carry on the war, issued a coinage of
twenty-kreutzer pieces, divided the mountaineers into companies, and,
as far as was in his power, carried the ancient system of government
into effect.
One day, about this time, Hofer was cogitating over a proclamation
to the South Tyrolese, who were taking some little advantage of the
absence of their commander, when one of his lieutenants suddenly
entered, and said abruptly,
"Sandwirth, here's Eisenstecken!"
"I cannot see him," said Hofer, reddening; "he deserted us in our need."
"But he says he _must_ see you--he's very sorry; and he has a special
message from the Emperor; and--in fact, here he is!"
In came Eisenstecken, looking still redder than Hofer; but he walked
straight up to him, held out his hand, and said,
"Don't bear malice, Sandwirth; I did wrong, I own it. I was
faint-hearted, and threw up a good cause as lost--many's the regret it
has cost me! But, come, I have been punished enough!"
Hofer, after a few moments' pause, held out his hand to him, saying,
"I believe you, my lad. Why, every success of ours must have been gall
and wormwood to you! Speckbacher chose the better part."
"He did, indeed, Obercommandant."
"Pish, lad! call me Sandwirth."
"Well, Sandwirth, I am an accredited agent from the Emperor, to express
his sympathy with you, which he shows by sending a golden chain and
medal to be publicly conferred on you, and which you are to wear for
his sake."
Hofer's face glowed with pleasure. To be thus remembered by his
Emperor, and approved by him in the sight of all! It was not the medal
that was so much to him, but what it typified.
It was resolved to connect this expression of the Emperor's approbation
with the celebration of a solemn fast, which was fixed for the 4th of
October. On that day, the Abbot of Wilten performed high mass in the
imperial church of the Holy Cross; the aisles resounded with strains
of heart-rending music, the air was faint with incense; all the pomp
and ceremonial of the Romish Church was invoked to add impression to
the service; and at its conclusion, Hofer, kneeling before the tomb of
Maximilian, surrounded by those armed bronze giants in dread array,
received from the Abbot's hands the testimonial of his sovereign's
favour amid the acclamations of his countrymen. Tears coursed his
cheeks, as he breathed a secret prayer that he might never disgrace
this badge of merit.
Eisenstecken, whose heart had often burned within him of late, at
sundry ridicules of Hofer among those who had failed to support him,
now looked on him as a man who had won a difficult game, and respected
and esteemed him accordingly. Of this he shortly gave a very noteworthy
proof, by requesting a private interview with the Sandwirth, and asking
his concurrence in a purpose he had much at heart. Hofer shook his head
upon it when he learnt its nature, but he spoke with perfect kindness;
and the event was, that Giuseppe was presently seen, extremely well
dressed, riding out of Innsbruck on a little ambling pony.
It was yet early, and the young man rode on to breakfast at Schönberg.
He and his little pony had then five leagues of constant ascent
up the Brenner. After this tough pull, which placed him about six
thousand feet above the majority of mankind, he reached the margin of
the Eisach, which he followed till he came to a romantic little town,
overhung by a picturesque old castle.
Here the pony was knocked up; so the young man, having refreshed
himself by a good dinner, started for the Passeyrthal alone and on
foot, by-paths that he now knew very well.
The call to the cows was resounding through the valley, when he came
in sight of _am Sand_ in the warm glow of the setting sun. He sprang
upon a little knoll, to contemplate it more attentively; and, lo! just
beneath him, on the grass, sat a young girl knitting, while beside her
fed seven sheep and three goats.
"Theresa!" cried he, half doubtfully.
She looked up at him in surprise. The next moment he was beside her.
"Oh, is it you?" and an innocent blush mantled on her cheek. "You bring
news of my dear father?"
"He is well; he sends his dear love to you all."
"Come to the house--my mother will be so glad to see you! She will have
a thousand questions to ask."
"First,--are _you_ glad, Theresa, to see me?"
"Certainly; very glad, indeed! Come in, by all means. I ought to have
driven home the sheep and goats already, but thought I would finish off
my knitting first."
And, collecting her little flock, she alertly led the way to the house;
while Eisenstecken could hardly make up his mind whether to detain her
or not.
"See," said he, offering her a flower, "here's a pretty little thing I
gathered on the mountain."
"Ah, don't touch it!" cried Theresa, shrinking from it in dismay. "It's
the thunder-rose!"
"Thunder-rose!--what's that?"
"Whoever gathers it will be unlucky--whoever accepts it will be
unlucky. Please, throw it away."
"Certainly, I will," said Eisenstecken, looking discomfited, and
flinging it as far from him as he could. "I hope it will not be
verified in my case."
"I hope not. Let us think of something else."
He gladly changed the subject, and talked of what was doing in
Innsbruck; feeling the moment an unpropitious one for saying what was
hovering on his lips.
Anna Hofer welcomed him kindly. There was another person present--a
young, wounded soldier, sitting at the door, whom Giuseppe would fain
have not seen there. It was Rudolf.
Nothing that the house afforded was too good for the adjutant who
brought glad tidings of the Sandwirth. Trout, roast chicken, pastry,
were heaped upon his plate,--the best bed prepared for him, the
best pillow-case and coverlet placed upon it,--all very hospitable
and satisfactory; only--only there was that handsome young soldier,
with his arm in a sling, receiving quieter but quite as flattering
attentions as himself, and exchanging many a soft tone and softer
glance with the smiling Theresa; all of which combined to make poor
Giuseppe fume with jealousy, and kept him awake half the night. A few
hours' dreamless sleep, however, restored him; he sprang up, full of
ardour and self-confidence, and followed Theresa to the fountain. There
he told her--what he had better not have told to any one--for she
was sorry, but steadfast, and confessed to him her heart belonged to
somebody else, and could not be reclaimed.
The young man felt it very bitterly; he would not break bread in
the house again, nor cross the threshold. He trudged back over the
mountain, and when he saw a thunder-rose, he stamped upon it, saying,
"Ah, you wretch! it was owing to you."
At the inn where he had put up, he ate a pretty good breakfast, mounted
his little ambling pony, and prepared to re-cross the Brenner, in a
very bad humour. As luck would have it, he picked up a comrade on
the road, whose cheerful talk beguiled the tedium of the ascent. They
dined together, supped together, slept at Schönberg, and the next day
Eisenstecken had recovered his spirits.
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