CAPTURE OF INNSPRUCK.
General Kinkel, governor of Innspruck, had just finished his dinner,
and repaired to his cabinet, whither he had summoned some of the
superior officers to give them fresh instructions. To-day, the 11th
of April, all sorts of news had arrived from the Tyrol; and although
this news did not alarm the Bavarian general, he thought it
nevertheless somewhat strange and unusual. He had learned that
Lieutenant-Colonel von Wreden, despite General Kinkel's express
orders, had rashly evacuated his position at Brunecken and destroyed
the bridge of Laditch. Besides, vague rumors had reached him about
an insurrection among the peasants in the neighborhood of Innspruck;
and even on the surrounding mountains, it was said, bands of armed
insurgents had been seen.
"We have treated these miserable peasants by far too leniently and
kindly," said General Kinkel, with a shrug; when his officer
communicated this intelligence to him. "We shall adopt a more
rigorous course, make examples of a few, and all will be quiet and
submissive again. What do these peasants want? Are they already so
arrogant as to think themselves capable of coping with our brave
regular troops?"
"They count upon the assistance of Austria," replied Colonel
Dittfurt; "and General von Chasteler is said to have promised the
peasants that he will invade the Tyrol one of these days."
"It is a miserable lie!" cried the general, with a disdainful smile.
"The Austrians will not be so bold as to take the offensive, for
they know full well that the great Emperor Napoleon will consider
every invasion of Bavarian territory an attack upon France herself,
and that we ourselves should drive the impudent invaders from our
mountains."
"That is to say, so long as the mountains are still ours, and not
yet occupied by the peasants, your excellency," said Major Beim, who
entered the room at this moment.
"What do you mean?" asked the general.
"I mean that larger and larger bands of peasants are advancing upon
Innspruck, that they have already attacked and driven in our
pickets, and that the latter have just escaped from them into the
city."
"Then it is time for us to resort to energetic and severe steps,"
cried General Kinkel, angrily. "Colonel Dittfurt, send immediately a
dispatch to Lieutenant-Colonel von Wreden, who is stationed at
Brixen. Write to him in my name that I am highly indignant at his
evacuating his position at Brunecken and destroying the bridge of
Laditch. Tell him I order him to act with the utmost energy; every
peasant arrested with arms in his hands is to be shot; every village
participating in the insurrection is to be burned down; and he is to
advance his patrols again to and beyond Brunecken. These patrols are
to ascertain if Austrian troops are really following the insurgent
peasants. Bring this dispatch to me that I may sign it, and then
immediately send off a courier with it to Lieutenant-Colonel von
Wreden." [Footnote: General Kinkel sent of this dispatch a day after
Wreden had been defeated by the Tyrolese, and after the Austrians
had invaded the Tyrol. The Bavarian authorities at Innspruck were in
complete ignorance of all these events.]
Colonel Dittfurt went to the desk and commenced writing the
dispatch. "Miserable peasants!" he murmured, on handing the dispatch
to the general; "it is already a humiliation that we must devote
attention to them and occupy ourselves with them."
"Yes, you are right," sighed the general, signing the dispatch;
"these people, who know only how to handle the flail, become every
day more impudent and intolerable; and I am really glad that I shall
now at length have an opportunity to humiliate them and reduce them
to obedience. Henceforth we will no longer spare them. No quarter!
He who is taken sword in hand, will be executed on the spot. We must
nip this insurrection in the bud, and chastise the traitors with
inexorable rigor. Well, what is it?" he asked vehemently, turning to
the orderly who entered the room at this moment.
"Your excellency, I have to inform you that all our pickets have
been driven into the city. The peasants have assembled in large
masses on the neighboring mountains and opened thence a most
murderous fire upon our pickets. Only a few men of each picket have
returned; the others lie dead outside the city."
"Matters seem to become serious," murmured General Kinkel. "All our
pickets driven in! That is to say, then, the peasants are in the
immediate neighborhood of the city?"
"All the environs of Innspruck are in full insurrection, your
excellency, and the citizens of Innspruck seem likewise strongly
inclined to join the insurrection. There are riotous groups in the
streets, and on my way hither I heard all sorts of menacing phrases,
and met everywhere with sullen, defiant faces."
"Ah, I will silence this seditious rabble and make their faces mild
and modest!" cried the general, in a threatening voice. "Let all the
public places in the city be occupied by troops, and field-pieces be
placed on the bridges of the Inn. Let patrols march through the
streets all night, and every citizen who is found in the street
after nine o'clock, or keeps his house lighted up after that hour,
shall be shot. Make haste, gentlemen, and carry my orders literally
into execution. Have the patrols call upon all citizens to keep
quiet and not appear in the streets after nine o'clock. Sentence of
death will be passed upon those who violate this order."
Owing to these orders issued by the general, a profound stillness
reigned at night in the streets of Innspruck; no one was to be seen
in the streets, and on marching through them the patrols did not
find a single offender whom they might have subjected to the
inexorable rigor of martial law. But no sooner had the patrols
turned round a corner than dark forms emerged here and there from
behind the pillars of the houses, the wells, and the crucifixes,
glided with the noiseless agility of cats along the houses, and
knocked here and there at the window-panes. The windows opened
softly, whispers were heard and the rustling of paper, and the forms
glided on to commence the same working and whispering at the next
house.
The Bavarian patrols had no inkling of these dark ravens flitting
everywhere behind them, as if scenting in them already the prey of
death; but the citizens of Innspruck considered these birds of the
night, who knocked at their windows, auspicious doves, even though,
instead of the olive-branch, they brought only a sheet of paper with
them. But this sheet of paper contained words that thrilled all
hearts with joy and happiness; it announced that the Austrians had
already invaded the Tyrol; that General von Chasteler was already
advancing upon Innspruck; that the Emperor Francis sent the Tyrolese
the greetings of his love; and that the Archduke John was preventing
the French troops in Italy from succoring the Bavarians in the
Tyrol; nay, that he and his army would deliver and protect the
Tyrol. Some of the brave sharp-shooters of the Passeyr valley had
been bold enough to steal into the city of Innspruck despite the
presence of the Bavarian troops, and the patrols could not prevent
the citizens from receiving the joyful tidings of the approach of
the Austrians, nor the Tyrolese sharpshooters from whispering to
them: "Be ready early tomorrow morning. Tomorrow we shall attack the
city; assist us then, hurl down from the roofs of your houses on the
Bavarians stones, jars, and whatever you may have at hand; keep your
doors open, that we may get in, and hold food and refreshments in
readiness. We shall come to-morrow. Innspruck must be delivered from
the Bavarians to-morrow!"
The morrow came at last. The 12th of April dawned upon the city of
Innspruck.
The Bavarians had carried out the orders of General Kinkel; they had
occupied all the public places, and planted batteries on the bridges
of the Inn.
But so ardent was the enthusiasm of the Tyrolese, that these
batteries did not deter them. They rushed forward with loud shouts;
using their spears, halberds, and the butt-ends of their muskets,
they fell with resistless impetuosity upon the Bavarians, drove them
back, shot the gunners at the guns, and carried the important bridge
of Muhlau.
Tremendous cheers announced this first victory to the inhabitants of
Innspruck. The Tyrolese then rushed forward over the bridge and
penetrated into the streets of the Hottinger suburb. The street-
doors of the houses opened to them; they entered them, or took
position behind the pillars, and fired from the windows and their
hiding-places, at the Bavarians who were stationed on the upper
bridge of the Inn, and were firing thence at the Tyrolese. The
Bavarian bullets, however, whistled harmlessly through the streets,
the alert Tyrolese concealing themselves, before every volley, in
the houses or behind the walls. But no sooner had the bullets
dropped than they stepped forward, sang, and laughed, and discharged
their rifles, until the exasperated Bavarians fired at them again,
when the singing Tyrolese disappeared once more in their hiding-
places.
All at once loud cheers and hurrahs resounded on the conquered
bridge of Muhlau, and a tall, heroic form, surrounded by a
detachment of armed Tyrolese, appeared on the bridge.
It was Joseph Speckbacher, who, after capturing Hall by a daring
COUP DE MAIN, had now arrived with his brave men to assist the
Tyrolese in delivering Innspruck from the Bavarians.
The Tyrolese thronged exultingly around him, informing him of the
struggle that had already taken place, and telling him that the
Bavarians had been driven from the bridge and hurled back into the
city.
"And now you stand still here, instead of advancing?" asked
Speckbacher, casting fiery glances toward the enemy. "What are you
waiting for, my friends? Why do you not attack the enemy?"
Without waiting for a reply, Speckbacher took off his hat, swung it
in the air, and shouted in a loud, enthusiastic voice "Long live the
Emperor Francis! Down with the Bavarians!"
All repeated this shout amid the roost tumultuous cheers. All cried,
"Long live the Emperor Francis! Down with the Bavarians!"
"Now forward! forward! We must take the bridge!" shouted
Speckbacher. "Those who love the Tyrol will follow me!"
And he rushed forward, like an angry bear, toward the bridge of the
Inn.
The Tyrolese, carried away by their enthusiasm, followed him at the
double-quick toward the bridge, where the mouths of the cannon were
staring at them menacingly. But the Tyrolese were not afraid of the
cannon; death had no longer any terrors for them! their courage
imparted to them resistless power and impetuosity. They rushed up to
the cannon, slew the gunners with the butt-ends of their rifles, or
lifted them up by the hair and burled them over the railing of the
bridge into the foaming waters of the Inn. Then they turned the
cannon, and some students from Innspruck, who had joined the
Tyrolese, undertook to man them.
A dense column of Bavarians advanced upon them; the peasants uttered
loud cheers, the cannon thundered and mowed down whole ranks of
them. They gave way, and the Tyrolese, who saw it, advanced with
triumphant shouts into the city and took street after street. And
wherever they came, they met with willing assistance at the hands of
the citizens; in every street which they entered, the windows
opened, and shots were fired from them at the Bavarian troops; every
house became a fortress, every tower a citadel. A frightful scene
ensued: the Bavarians in some places surrendered and begged for
quarter; in others they continued the combat with undaunted
resolution; and in the melee several bloody deeds were committed,
which, in their cooler moments, the Tyrolese would have been the
first to condemn.
All at once loud cheers burst forth in the streets, and the Tyrolese
repeated again and again the joyful news: "Major Teimer has arrived;
he has several companies of the militia under his command, and with
these brave men he has already penetrated into the heart of the
city, up to the principal guardhouse! He has already surrounded the
Engelhaus, General Kinkel's headquarters, and is negotiating a
capitulation with the general." This almost incredible intelligence
raised the enthusiasm of the Tyrolese to the highest pitch. They
rushed forward with irresistible impetuosity toward the barracks and
disarmed all the soldiers who had remained there in order to relieve
their exhausted comrades. Then they rushed again into the street,
toward the principal guard-house, where an obstinate struggle was
going on. There, at the head of his regiment, stood Colonel
Dittfurt, firmly determined to die rather than surrender to the
peasants.
But the peasants came up in overwhelming numbers, and detachment of
sharpshooters, headed by Major Teimer, had already penetrated into
the general's house, and entered his sitting-room. From the houses
all around, the Tyrolese were firing at the soldiers, who, gnashing
their teeth with rage and grief, did not even enjoy the satisfaction
of wreaking vengeance on them; for their enemies were concealed
behind the walls and pillars, while the soldiers were defenceless,
and had to allow themselves to be laid prostrate by the unerring aim
of the sharpshooters.
Angry, scolding, imperious voices were now heard at General Kinkel's
window, and a strange sight was presented to the eyes of the
dismayed soldiers. Teimer's face, flushed with anger and excitement,
appeared at the window. He was seen approaching it hastily and
thrusting General Kinkel's head and shoulders forcibly out of it.
"Surrender!" threatened Teimer; "surrender, or I shall hurl you out
of the window!" [Footnote: Hormayr's "History of Andreas Hofer,"
vol. i., p. 249.]
"Colonel Dittfurt," cried General Kinkel, in a doleful voice, "you
see that further resistance is useless. We must surrender!"
"No!" shouted the colonel, pale with rage; "no, we shall not
surrender; no, we shall not Incur the disgrace of laying down our
arms before this ragged mob. We can die, but shall not surrender!
Forward, my brave soldiers, forward!"
And Dittfurt rushed furiously, followed by his soldiers, upon the
Tyrolese who were approaching at this moment.
Suddenly he reeled back. Two bullets had hit him at the same time,
and the blood streamed from two wounds. But these wounds, instead of
paralyzing his courage, inflamed it still more. He overcame his pain
and weakness, and, brandishing his sword, rushed forward.
A third bullet whistled up and penetrated his breast. He sank down;
blood streamed from his mouth and his nose.
The Tyrolese burst into deafening cheers, and approached the fallen
officer to take his sword from him. But he sprang once more to his
feet, he would not fall alive into the hands of the peasants; he
felt that he had to die, but he would die like a soldier on the
field of Honor, and not as a prisoner of the peasants. Livid as a
corpse, his face covered with gore, his uniform saturated with
blood, Dittfurt reeled forward, and drove his soldiers, with wild
imprecations, entreaties, and threats toward the hospital, whence
the Tyrolese poured their murderous fire into the ranks of the
Bavarians. But scarcely had he advanced a few steps when a fourth
bullet struck him and laid him prostrate.
His regiment, seized with dismay, shouted out that it would
surrender, and, in proof of this intention, the soldiers laid down
their arms.
The Bavarian cavalry, to avoid the disgrace of such a capitulation,
galloped in wild disorder toward the gate and the Hofgarten. But
there Speckbacher had taken position with the peasants, who, mostly
armed only with pitchforks, had hurried to the scene of the combat
from the immediate environs of Innspruck. But these pitchforks
seemed to the panic-stricken cavalry to be terrible, murderous
weapons; cannon would have appeared to them less dreadful than the
glittering pitchforks, with which the shouting peasants rushed upon
them, and which startled not only the soldiers but their horses
also. The soldiers thought the wounds made by pitchforks more
horrible and ignominious than utter defeat, and even death.
Thunderstruck at their desperate position, hardly knowing what
befell them, unable to offer further resistance, they allowed
themselves to be torn from their horses by the peasants, to whom
they handed their arms in silence. The Tyrolese then mounted the
horses, and in a triumphant procession, headed by Joseph
Speckbacher, they conducted their prisoners back to Innspruck.
[Footnote: Hormayr's "History of Andreas Hofer," vol. i., p. 250.]
There the enemy had likewise surrendered in the mean time, and the
barracks which, until yesterday, had been the quarters of the
oppressors of the Tyrolese, the Bavarian soldiers, became now the
prisons of the defeated. Escorted by the peasants, the disarmed and
defenceless Bavarians were hurried into the barracks, whose doors
closed noisily behind them.
Innspruck was now free; not an armed Bavarian soldier remained in
the city, but the Tyrolese, to the number of upward of fifteen
thousand, poured into the streets, and the citizens joined them
exultingly, and thanked the courageous peasants for delivering them
from the foreign yoke. The city, which for three hours had been a
wild scene of terror, havoc, bloodshed, and death, resounded now at
the hour of mid-day with cheers and exultation; nothing was heard
but hurrahs, songs, and cheers for the Emperor Francis and the
beloved Tyrol.
Every minute added to the universal joy. The victorious Tyrolese,
mounted on the horses of Cite Bavarian cavalry, and headed by the
proud and triumphant Speckbacher and a rural band of music, appeared
with their prisoners. Two badly-tuned violins, two shrill fifes, two
iron pot-lids, and several jews'-harps, were the instruments of this
band. But the musicians tried to make as much noise with them as
possible, and the citizens considered their music sweeter and finer
than the splendid tunes which the bands of the Bavarian regiments
had played to them up to this time.
New cheers rent the air at this moment. A squad of peasants brought
the great imperial eagle, which they had taken down from the tomb of
Maximilian in the High Church of Innspruck. They had decorated it
with red ribbons, and carried it amid deafening acclamations through
the streets. On beholding the eagle of Austria, the excited masses
set no bounds to their rejoicings; they flocked in crowds to gaze at
it; citizens and peasants vied in manifesting their devotion to the
precious emblem; they blessed it and kissed it. No one was permitted
to stay a long while near it, for the impatience of his successor
compelled him to pass on. But an aged man, with silvery hair, but
with a form still vigorous and unbent, would not allow himself to be
pushed on in this manner. An hour ago he had fought like a lion in
the ranks of the Tyrolese, and anger and rage had flashed from his
face; but now, at the sight of the Austrian eagle, he was as mild
and gentle as a lamb, and only love and blissful emotion beamed from
his face. He encircled the eagle with both his arms, kissed the two
heads and gilded crowns, and, stroking the carved plumes tenderly,
exclaimed: "Well, old eagle, have your plumes really grown again?
Have you returned to the loyal Tyrol to stay here for all time to
come? Will--"
Loud cheers interrupted him at this moment. Another crowd of
Tyrolese came up the street, preceded by four peasants, who were
carrying two portraits in fine golden frames.
Deafening acclamations rent the air as soon as the people beheld
these two portraits. Everybody recognized them as those of the
Emperor Francis and the Archduke John. The peasants had found them
in the old imperial palace.
"John!" shouted the people in the streets, and in the houses which
the procession passed on its march through the city. Even the
Austrian eagle, which had been greeted so tenderly, was forgotten at
the sight of the two portraits, and all accompanied this solemn
procession of love and loyalty.
This procession moved through the whole city until it finally
reached the triumphal arch which Maria Theresa had ordered to be
erected in honor of the wedding of her son Leopold. The Tyrolese
placed the portraits of Leopold's two sons on this triumphal arch,
and surrounded them by candles kept constantly burning; every one
then bent his knee, and exclaimed: "Long live the Emperor Francis!
Long live our dear Archduke John!" Woe unto him who should have
dared to pass these portraits without taking off his hat! the
Tyrolese would have compelled him to do it, and to bend his knee.
"Well," they exclaimed, "there is our Francis, and there is our
John. Look, does it not seem as though he were smiling at us, and
were glad of being here again and able to gaze at us? Long live our
dear Archduke John!"
And they again burst into cheers which, if the Archduke John had
been able to hear them, would have filled his heart with delight and
his eyes with tears.
These rejoicings around the eagle and the portraits lasted all day.
The whole city presented a festive spectacle, and the overjoyed
Tyrolese scarcely thought to-day of eating and drinking, much less
of the dangers which might menace them. They sang, and shouted, and
laughed; and when night came they sank down exhausted by the efforts
of the fight, and still more by their boundless rejoicings, to the
ground where they were standing, in the streets, in the gardens, in
the fields, and fell asleep.
Profound silence reigned now in the streets of Innspruck. It was
dark everywhere, bright lights beamed only from the portraits of the
emperor and the Archduke John; and the stars of heaven looked down
upon the careless and happy sleepers, the victors of Innspruck.
They slept, dreaming of victory and happiness. Woe to them if they
sleep too long and awake too late, for the enemy does not sleep! He
is awake and approaching, while the victors are sleeping.