CHAPTER XIX.

THE CAPITULATION OF WILTAU.

The Tyrolese were still asleep, and profound stillness reigned yet

in the streets of Innspruck, although it was already after daybreak,

and the first rays of the rising sun shed a crimson lustre on the

summits of the mountains. All at once this silence was broken by a

strange, loud, and plaintive note which seemed to resound in the

air; it was followed by a second and third note; and, as if

responding to these distant calls, the large bell of the High Church

of Innspruck aroused with its ringing voice the weary sleepers to

renewed efforts.

They raised themselves from the ground; they listened, still drowsy,

to these strange notes in the air. Suddenly two horsemen galloped

through the streets, and their clarion voices struck the ears of the

Tyrolese.

"Up, sleepers!" cried Joseph Speckbacher; "do you not hear the

tossing? Rise, rise, take your rifles! the French and Bavarians are

at the gates of the city, and we must meet them again."

"Rise, Tyrolese!" shouted Major Teimer; "the French and Bavarians

are coming. We must prevent them from penetrating into Innspruck. We

must barricade the gates, and erect barricades in the streets."

The Tyrolese jumped up, fresh, lively, and ready for the fray. Their

sleep had strengthened them, and yesterday's victory had steeled

their courage. The enemy was there, and they were ready to defeat

him the second time.

The bells of all the churches of Innspruck were now rung, and those

of the neighboring village steeples responded to them. They called

upon the able-bodied men to take up arms against the enemy, whose

advanced guard could be seen already on the crests yonder. Yes,

there was no mistake about it: those men were the French and

Bavarians, who were descending the slope and approaching in strong

columns.

A Tyrolese rushed into the city. "The French are coming!" he

exclaimed, panting and breathless. "I have hurried across the

mountains to bring you the news. It is General Bisson with several

thousand French troops, and Lieutenant-Colonel Wreden with a few

hundred Bavarians. We had a hard fight with them yesterday at the

bridge of Laditch and in the Muhlbacher Klause; but they were too

strong, and were joined yesterday by another French column;

therefore, we were unable to capture them, and had to let them march

on. We killed hundreds of their soldiers; but several thousands of

them escaped, and are coming now to Innspruck."

"They will not come to Innspruck, for we are much stronger than they

are, and we will not let them enter the city," exclaimed

Speckbacher, courageously.

"No, we will not, except in the same manner in which you brought the

cavalry into the city yesterday, that is, to imprison them in the

barracks," said Major Teimer.

"Yes, yes, we will do so," shouted the Tyrolese; "we will let the

French come to Innspruck, but only as our prisoners."

"Well, let us be up and doing now, my friends," exclaimed

Speckbacher. "We must fortify the city against the enemy. Having

gone thus far yesterday, we cannot retrace our steps to-day. But we

do not want to retrace them, do we"

"No, we do not!" cried the Tyrolese.

"We have raised the Austrian eagle again," said Major Teimer, "and

the portraits of the emperor and our dear Archduke John are looking

down upon us from the triumphal arch. They shall see that we are

good soldiers and loyal sons of our country. Forward, men, let us be

up and doing! Barricade the city, the streets, and the houses; make

bullets, and put your arms ready. The French are coming Hurrah! Long

live the emperor Francis and the Archduke John!"

Deafening cheers responded to him, and then the Tyrolese rushed

through the streets to barricade the city in accordance with

Teimer's orders.

The gates were immediately barricaded with casks, wagons, carts, and

every thing that could be found for that purpose; and the approaches

to the city were filled with armed men, ready to give the enemy a

warm reception. The doors of the houses were locked and bolted, and

frantic women within them boiled oil and water which they intended

to pour on the heads of the soldiers in case they should succeed in

forcing their way into the city; bullets were made and stones were

carried to the roofs, whence they were to be hurled on the enemy.

Meanwhile the tocsin resounded incessantly, as if to invite the

Tyrolese to redoubled efforts and increased vigilance.

The tocsin, however, had aroused not only the Tyrolese, but also the

Bavarians who were locked up in the barracks; the prisoners

understood full well what the bells were proclaiming. To the

Tyrolese they said: "The enemy, your enemy, is approaching. He will

attack you. Be on your guard!" To the prisoners they proclaimed:

"Your friends are approaching. They will deliver you. Be ready for

them!" And now the Bavarians began to become excited, their eyes

flashed again, the clouds disappeared from their humiliated brows;

and with loud, scornful cheers and fists clinched menacingly, they

stepped before their Tyrolese guards and cried: "Our friends are

coming. They will deliver us and punish you, and we shall wreak

bloody vengeance on you for the disgrace you have heaped upon us.

Hurrah, our friends are coming! We shall soon be free again!"

"No, you will not," shouted a loud, thundering voice; and in the

middle of the large dormitory occupied by the Bavarians appeared

suddenly the tall, herculean form of Joseph Speckbacher. On passing

the barracks, he happened to hear the cheers of the prisoners and

had entered in order to learn what was the matter. "No," he said

once more, "you will not; yon must not suppose that we shall be so

stupid as to allow you to escape. Do not rejoice therefore at the

approach of the French and your countrymen for I tell you, and I

swear by the Holy Mother of God, if the French should enter the city

victoriously, our last step before evacuating it would be to kill

every one of you. Do you hear, Tyrolese guards? If the prisoners do

not keep quiet, if they make any noise, or even threaten you, shoot

down the ringleaders! But if the enemy penetrates into the city,

then shoot them all, and do not spare a single one of them.

[Footnote: Hormayr's "History of Andreas Hofer," vol. i., p. 258. ]

We will not incur the disgrace of re-enforcing the enemy by several

thousand men. The guards at all doors here must be quadrupled, and

at the first symptom of mischief among the prisoners, you will fire

at them. Now you know, Bavarians, what is going to be done. Beware,

therefore!"

And Joseph Speckbacher left the hall with a proud nod of the head.

The listening Bavarians heard him repeating his rigorous

instructions to the sentinels outside; they heard also the

acclamations with which the Tyrolese responded to him. The

prisoners, therefore, became silent; they forced back their hopes

and wishes into the depths of their hearts, and only prayed inwardly

for their approaching friends, and cursed in the same manner their

enemies, the ragged mob of the peasants.

The tocsin was still ringing, and its sinister notes penetrated

likewise into the large guard-house, and spoke to the prisoners

confined there. One of these prisoners was a gloomy, broken-down old

man, General Kinkel; the other was a youth, mortally wounded and

violently delirious. It was Colonel Dittfurt. The bullet of the

Tyrolese had not killed him; he still lived, a prisoner of the

peasants, and, amidst his delirium and his agony, he was fully

conscious of his disgrace. This consciousness rendered him raving

mad; it brought words of wild imprecation to his cold, bloodless

lips; he howled with rage and pain; he called down the vengeance of

Heaven upon "the ragged mob," the peasants, who had dared to lay

hands upon him, the proud, aristocratic colonel, and rob him not

only of his life, but also of his honor. All the night long he had

raved in this manner; and it was truly horrible to hear these words,

full of contempt, hatred, and fury, in the mouth of a dying man; it

was dreadful to see this scarred form on the bloody couch, writhing

in the convulsions of death, and yet unable to die, because anger

and rage revived it again and again. At day-break Major Teimer had

entered the guard-house with a detachment of Tyrolese; and while he

repaired with some of them to General Kinkel, the other Tyrolese had

entered Colonel Dittfurt's room, to see the miracle of a man whose

head had been pierced by a bullet having vitality enough left to

rave, swear, and curse, for twenty-four hours.

Gradually the whole room became crowded with Tyrolese, who yesterday

had been the mortal foes of the colonel, but who gazed to-day with

profound compassion and conciliated hearts at the poor, mutilated

being that disdained even on the brink of the grave to consider a

peasant as entitled to equal rights and as a brother of the

nobleman.

Colonel Dittfurt lay on his couch with his eyes distended to their

utmost, and stared at the Tyrolese assembled round him. For some

minutes the curses and invectives had died away on his lips, and he

seemed to listen attentively to the sinister notes of the alarm-

bells which were calling incessantly upon the Tyrolese to prepare

for the struggle.

"Is that my death-knell?" he asked wearily. "Have I, then, died

already, and is it death that is lying so heavily on my breast?"

"No, sir, you still live," said one of the Tyrolese, in a low,

gentle voice. "You still live; the bells you hear are ringing the

tocsin; they aroused us because the French and Bavarians are

advancing upon the city."

"The Bavarians are coming! Our men are coming!" cried Dittfurt

exultingly, and be lifted his head as if to rise from his couch. But

the iron hand of death had already touched him and kept him

enthralled. His head sank heavily back upon the pillow, and his eyes

became more lustreless and fixed.

"They vanquished me," he said, after a pause; "I know I am a

prisoner of the peasants, and it is they who keep me chained to this

couch and prevent me from going out to participate in the contest.

Oh, oh, how it grieves me! A prisoner of the peasants! But they

fought like men, and their leader must be an able and brave officer.

Who was the leader of the peasants?"

"No one, sir," said the Tyrolese, on whom the dying officer fixed

his eyes. "We had no leader; we fought equally for God, the emperor,

and our native country."

"No, no," said Dittfurt, "that is false; I know better, for I saw

the leader of the peasants pass me often. He was mounted on a white

horse; his face was as radiant as heaven, his eyes twinkled like

stars, and in his hand he held a sword flashing like a sunbeam. I

saw the leader of the peasants, he always rode at their head, he led

them into battle, I--"

He paused, the expression of his eyes became more fixed, the shades

of death descended deeper and deeper on his forehead, which was

covered with cold perspiration.

The Tyrolese minded him no longer. They looked at each other with

exultant and enthusiastic glances. "He saw a leader at our head?"

they asked each other. "A leader mounted on a white horse, and

holding in his hand a sword flashing like a sunbeam? It must have

been St. James, the patron of the city of Innspruck. He was our

leader yesterday. Yes, yes, that is it! St. James combated at our

head, unknown to us; but he showed himself to the enemy and defeated

him. Did you not hear, brethren, what the pious priests told us of

the Spaniards who have likewise risen to fight against Bonaparte,

the enemy of the Pope and all good Christians? St. James placed

himself in Spain likewise at the head of the pious peasants; he led

them against Bonaparte and the French, and made them victorious over

the enemy, who was bent upon stealing their country and their

liberties. And since St. James got through with the Spaniards in

Spain, lie has come to the Tyrol to lend us his assistance. St.

James, our patron saint, is our leader! He assists us and combats at

our head!"

And the Tyrolese, regardless of the colonel, who at this moment was

writhing in the last convulsions of death, rushed out of the room to

communicate the miracle to their brethren outside. The news spread

like wildfire from house to house, from street to street; all

shouted joyously: "St. James, our patron saint, is our leader. He

assists us and combats at our head!" [Footnote: "Gallery of heroes:

Andreas Hofer," p. 41.]

And this belief enhanced the enthusiasm of the Tyrolese, and with

the most intrepid courage they looked upon the enemy, who had by

this time come close up to the city, and was forming in line of

battle on the plain adjoining the village of Wiltau. From the houses

in the neighborhood of the triumphal arch the Tyrolese were able to

survey the whole position of the enemy; they could discern even the

various uniforms of the French and Bavarian soldiers. Up yonder, on

the roof of a house, stood Speckbacher and Teimer, and with their

eyes, which were as keen and flashing as those of the eagle, they

gazed searchingly upon the position of the enemy and that of their

own forces. The line from the village of Wiltau down to the river

Sill was occupied by the French troops under General Bisson; on the

right side of Wiltau to the Inn stood Lieutenant-Colonel Wreden with

the Bavarians, his front turned toward the city.

"Now we must surround them as in a mouse-trap, and leave them no

outlet for escape," said Major Teimer, with a shrewd wink. "Is not

that your opinion too, Speckbacher?"

"Certainly it is," replied Speckbacher. "Mount Isel yonder, in the

rear of the Bavarians, must be occupied by several thousands of our

best sharpshooters, and a cloud of our peasants must constantly

harass their rear and drive them toward Innspruck. Here we will

receive them in fine style, and chase them until they are all dead

or lay down their arms. The only important thing for us is to cut

off their retreat and keep them between two fires."

"You are right, Speckbacher; you are a skilful soldier, and are

better able to be a general than many an officer--for instance,

General Kinkel. Kinkel is an old woman; he wept and swore in one

breath when I was with him just now; he says all the time that he

will commit suicide, and yet he is not courageous enough to do it,

but preferred to comply with my demands."

"And what were your demands, Teimer?"

"I demanded that he should give me an open letter to General Bisson,

urging him to send some confidential person into the town who might

report the state of affairs, and convince him of the immense

superiority and enthusiasm of the Tyrolese, and of the impossibility

of defeating us or forcing his way through our ranks."

"And did old General Kinkel give you such a letter?"

"He did, and I will send it out now to the French camp. We must make

all necessary dispositions, that when the general sends a

confidential envoy into the town he may become fully alive to the

fact that it is impossible for him to defeat us. Above all things,

we must send several thousand sharp-shooters to Mount Isel and the

adjoining heights, in order to cut off the enemy's retreat."

The letter which Major Teimer had extorted from General Kinkel had

really the effect which he had expected from it. General Bisson sent

to Innspruck one of his staff-officers, accompanied by Lieutenant-

Colonel von Wreden, the commander of the Bavarians. A few other

officers followed these two, and repaired with them to Major Teimer,

who received them at the principal guard-house in the presence of

the most prominent Tyrolese.

Meanwhile General Bisson awaited with painful impatience the return

of the two ambassadors whom he had sent into the town; and, his eyes

constantly fixed on Innspruck, he walked uneasily up and down. But

already upward of an hour had elapsed, and the ambassadors had not

yet made their appearance. He had good reason to be uneasy and

anxious, for the situation of the French and Bavarians was now

almost desperate. He had found out at the bridge of the Eisach, on

the plain of the Sterzinger Moos, and at the Muhlbacher Klause, that

the French had to deal with an enemy who was terribly in earnest;

that the whole Tyrol was in insurrection; that Chasteler, with a

body of armed peasants, as well as a few regular troops, was

descending the Brenner, and already menacing his rear; while the

rocks and thickets in his front and flanks were bristling with the

peasants of the Innthal, who--in great strength--obstructed his

advance.

"We shall die here, for we are hemmed in on all sides," said General

Bisson, gloomily, to himself. "There is no hope left, and in the end

we may be obliged to submit to the disgrace of surrendering to the

mob of peasants. But what on earth prevents the officers from

returning to me?"

And Bisson turned his searching eyes again toward Innspruck. Now he

perceived two men approaching at a run.

He recognized them; they were the companions of his staff-officer

and Lieutenant-Colonel Von Wreden, and their pale, dismayed faces

told him that they were bearers of bad tidings.

"Where are the two gentlemen whom I sent to Innspruck?" he asked,

advancing rapidly toward them.

"They were taken into custody at Innspruck," faltered out one of

them.

"Major Teimer said he had taken upon himself no obligation in regard

to these officers, and would retain them as hostages," panted the

other. "He then caused us to be conducted through the whole city,

that we might satisfy ourselves of the tremendous strength of the

Tyrolese and their formidable preparations. Oh, your excellency, the

peasants are much superior to us in strength, for there are at least

twenty thousand able-bodied men in their ranks; they are well armed,

and the most celebrated marksmen and the most daring leaders of the

Tyrol are among them."

"Bah! it would make no difference, even though they were ten to

one!" cried General Bisson; "for ten peasants cannot have as much

courage as one soldier of the grand army of my glorious emperor. We

will prove to them that we are not afraid of them. We will attack

them. A detachment of Tyrolese yonder has ventured to leave the

city. Fire at them! Shoot them down until not one of them is left!"

The shots crashed, the artillery boomed, but not a Tyrolese had

fallen; they had thrown themselves on the ground, so that the

bullets and balls had whistled harmlessly over their heads. But now

they jumped up and responded to the shots of the enemy; and not one

of their bullets missed its aim, but all carried death into the

ranks of the French. At the same time the sharpshooters posted on

Mount Isel, in the rear of the French and Bavarians, commenced

firing, and mowed down whole ranks of the soldiers.

General Bisson turned in dismay toward this new enemy, covered by

the thicket, which, rising almost to the summit of Mount Isel, made

the Tyrolese invisible, and protected them from the missiles of the

soldiers.

"We are between two fires," he murmured to himself, in dismay. "We

are caught, as it were, in a net, and will be annihilated to the

last man."

And this conviction seized all the soldiers, as was plainly to be

seen from their pale faces and terror-stricken looks.

There was a sudden lull in the fire of the Tyrolese, which had

already struck down several hundred French soldiers, and from the

triumphal arch of Innspruck issued several men, waving white

handkerchiefs, and advancing directly toward the French. It was

Major Teimer, accompanied by some officers and citizens of

Innspruck. He sent one of them to General Bisson to invite him to an

interview to be held on the public square of the village of Wiltau.

General Bisson accepted the invitation, and repaired with his staff

and some Bavarian officers to the designated place.

Major Teimer and his companions were already there. Teimer received

the general and his distinguished companions with a proud,

condescending nod.

"General," he said, without waiting for the eminent officer to

address him, "I have come here to ask you to surrender, and order

your soldiers to lay down their arms."

General Bisson looked with a smile of amazement at the peasant who

dared to address to him so unheard-of a demand with so much calmness

and composure.

"My dear sir," he said, "I am convinced that you are not in earnest,

but know full well that we never can or will comply with such a

demand. Moreover, our situation does not by any means compel us to

allow conditions to be dictated to us. Nevertheless, I am ready to

make some concessions to you. Hence, I will pledge you my word of

honor that I will neither attack you, nor injure the city of

Innspruck in the least. But in return I demand that you allow us to

pass without molestation through Innspruck, that we may march to

Augsburg in obedience to the orders of my emperor."

"And you believe we can be so stupid as to grant this demand,

general?" asked Teimer, shrugging his shoulders. "I do not want to

be beaten down, but stick to my first demand. Either you order your

troops to lay down their arms, or you will all be put to the sword."

"No, so help me God! never will I accept so arrogant a demand,"

cried the general, indignantly; "never will I incur the disgrace of

signing so ignominious a capitulation."

"Then, general, you will appear this very day before the throne of

God to account for the lives of the thousands whom you devote to an

unnecessary death. For all of you will and must die; there is no

escape for you. You know it full well, general, for otherwise you,

the proud general of Monsieur Bonaparte, and commander of several

thousand splendid French soldiers, would not have come to negotiate

here with the leader of the peasants, who knows nothing of tactics

and strategy. You know that there are enemies both in your front and

rear. Our men occupy Mount Isel, and the whole country back of Mount

Isel is in insurrection. You cannot retrace your steps, nor can you

advance, for you will never get to Innspruck, and there is no other

road to Augsburg. We have barricaded the city, and have nearly

twenty thousand men in and around Innspruck."

"But I pledged you my word that I would not attack you, nor take any

hostile steps whatever. All I want is to march peaceably through the

city; and, in order to convince you of my pacific intentions, I

promise to continue my march with flints unscrewed from our muskets,

and without ammunition."

"I do not accept your promises, they are not sufficient," said

Teimer, coldly.

"Well, then," cried General Bisson, in a tremulous voice, "hear my

last words. I will march on with my troops without arms; our arms

and ammunition may be sent after us on wagons."

"If that is your last word, general, our negotiations are at an

end," replied Teimer, with perfect sang-froid. "You have rejected my

well-meaning solicitude for your safety; nothing remains for me now

but to surrender you and your troops to the tender mercies of our

infuriated people. Farewell, general."

He turned his back on him and advanced several steps toward

Innspruck. At the same time he waved his arm three times.

Immediately, as had been agreed upon, the Tyrolese on Mount Isel,

and in front of Innspruck, commenced firing, and their close

discharges, admirably directed, thinned the ranks of the French

grenadiers, while the shouts with which the mountains resounded on

all sides were so tremendous that they were completely panic-struck.

General Bisson saw it, and a deadly pallor overspread his face.

Teimer stood still and gazed sneeringly at the disheartened and

terrified soldiers, and then glanced at their general.

Bisson caught this glance. "Sir," he cried, and his cry resembled

almost an outburst of despair, "pray return to me."

"Let us negotiate!"

Teimer did not approach him, he only stood still. "Come to me, if

you have any thing to say to me," he shouted; "come, and--"

The rattle of musketry, and the furious shouts of the Tyrolese, now

pouring down from all the mountains, and advancing upon the French,

drowned his voice.

To render his words intelligible to Teimer, and to hear his replies,

General Bisson was obliged to approach him, and he stepped up to him

with his staff-officers in greater haste perhaps than was compatible

with his dignity.

"What else do you demand?" he asked, in a tremulous voice.

"What I demanded at the outset," said Teimer, firmly. "I want your

troops to lay down their arms and surrender to the Tyrolese. I have

already drawn up a capitulation; it is only necessary for you and

your officers to sign it. The capitulation is brief and to the

point, general. It consists only of four paragraphs. But just listen

to the shouts and cheers of my dear Tyrolese, and see what excellent

marksmen they are!"

Indeed, the bullets of the Tyrolese whistled again at this moment

through the ranks of the enemy, and every bullet hit its man. Loud

shouts of despair burst from the ranks of the French and Bavarians,

who were in the wildest confusion, and did not even dare to flee,

because they knew full well that they were hemmed in on all sides.

General Bisson perceived the despair of his troops, and a groan

escaped from his breast. "Read the capitulation to me, sir," he

said, drying the cold perspiration on his forehead.

Teimer drew a paper from his bosom and unfolded it. He then

commenced reading, in a loud, ringing voice, which drowned even the

rattle of musketry

"In the name of his majesty the Emperor Francis I. of Austria, a

capitulation is entered into at this moment with the French and

Bavarian troops which advanced to-day from Steinach to Wiltau; the

following terms were accepted:"

"FIRST. The French and Bavarian soldiers lay down their arms on the

spot now occupied by them."

"SECONDLY. The members of the whole eighth corps are prisoners of

war; and will be delivered as such to the Austrian troops at

Schwatz, whither they will be conveyed immediately."

"THIRDLY. The Tyrolese patriots in the custody of these troops will

be released on the spot."

"FOURTHLY. The field and staff-officers of the French and Bavarian

troops will retain their baggage, horses, and side-arms, and their

property will be respected."

"You see, sir, it is impossible for me to sign this," cried General

Bisson. "You cannot expect me to subscribe my own disgrace."

"If you refuse to subscribe the capitulation, you sign thereby not

only your own death-warrant, but that of all your soldiers," said

Teimer calmly. "See, general, here is fortunately a table, for this

is the place where the people of Wiltau assemble on Sundays, and

dance and drink. Fate placed this table here for us that we might

use it for signing the capitulation. There is the capitulation; I

have already affixed to it my name and title as commissioner of the

Emperor Francis. I have also brought pen and ink with me, that you

might have no trouble in signing the document. Subscribe it,

therefore, general, and let your staff-officers do so too. Spare the

lives of your poor soldiers for you see every minute's delay costs

you additional losses."

"I cannot sign it, I cannot!" cried Bisson, despairingly. He burst

into tears, and in his boundless grief he struck his forehead with

his fist and tore out his thin gray hair with his trembling hands.

[Footnote: Hormayr's "Andreas Hofer," vol. 1, p. 257.] "I cannot

sign it," he wailed loudly.

"Sign it," cried his officers, thronging round the table.

"You must refuse no longer, for the lives of all our soldiers are at

stake."

"But my honor and good name are likewise at stake," groaned Bisson,

"and if I sign the capitulation, I shall lose both forever."

"But you will thereby preserve to the emperor the lives of upward of

three thousand of his soldiers," exclaimed the officers, urgently.

"Never will the emperor believe that this disaster might not have

been averted," wailed General Bisson. "Even were I merely

unfortunate, he would impute it to me as a crime. He will forgive me

no more than Villeneuve and Dupont. His anger is inexorable, and it

will crush me."

"Then let it crush you, general," said Teimer, calmly. "It is better

that you should be crushed than that several thousand men should now

be crushed by the Tyrolese."

"Sign, sign!" cried the French officers, stepping close up to the

table, taking up the pen, and presenting it to the general.

"Then you are all determined to sign the capitulation after I have

done so?" asked General Bisson, still hesitating.

"We are," cried the officers.

"We are ready to do so," said Major Armance, "and in proof hereof I

affix my name to the capitulation before you have signed it,

general."

He subscribed the paper with a quick but steady hand.

Another staff-officer stepped up, took the pen, and also wrote his

name, "Varin."

"Now, general," he said, presenting the pen to Bisson.

The general took the pen, cast a last despairing glance toward

heaven and then toward his soldiers, bent over the paper to sign it.

The pen dropped from his hand, and he had to lean against the table

in order not to sink to the ground. Major Teimer drew a white

handkerchief from his pocket and waved it in the air. The Tyrolese

ceased firing immediately, and deafening cheers burst forth on all

sides.

"You see, general, you have saved the lives of your soldiers," said

Teimer.

Bisson only sighed, and turned to his officers. "Now, gentlemen," he

faltered out, "give orders to the troops to lay down their arms on

the spot now occupied by them."

The officers hastened away, and General Bisson started to leave

likewise, when Teimer quickly laid his hand on his arm and detained

him.

"General," he said, "pray issue still another order."

"What order, sir?"

"You have of course brought your carriage with you; order your

coachman to drive up with it, and permit me and these gentlemen here

to enter it with you, and ride to Innspruck."

"That is to say, I am your prisoner, and you wish to make your

triumphal entrance into the city with me?"

"That is about my intention. I should like to return to the city

seated by your side; and as the good inhabitants of Innspruck are

very anxious to see a French general, one of Bonaparte's generals,

who does not come with his troops to devastate the city, to rob and

plunder, I request you to let us make our entrance in an open,

uncovered carriage."

"We will do so," said Bisson, casting a sombre glance on Teimer's

shrewd face. "You are merciless to-day, sir. What is your name?"

"My name is Martin Teimer; I hold the rank of major in the Austrian

army, and Archduke John has appointed me commissioner for the

Tyrol."

"Ah, one of the two commissioners who signed the `open order,' with

which the country was instigated to rise in insurrection?"

"Yes, general."

"And Andreas Hofer the Barbone, is the other commissioner, is he

not? I will remember it in case we should meet again."

"You will then take your revenge; that is quite natural. But to-day

WE take our revenge for the long oppressions and insults which we

have endured at the hands of the French. Come, general, let us ride

to Innspruck."

An hour afterward a long and brilliant procession moved through the

triumphal arch. It was headed by the band of the captured Bavarian

regiment, which had to play to glorify its own disgrace to-day; next

came an open carriage in which Martin Teimer sat with a radiant

face, and by his side General Bisson, pale, and hanging his head. In

another carriage followed the staff-officers, escorted by the

municipal authorities and clergy of Innspruck, and afterward

appeared the whole enormous force of the Tyrolese conducting the

disarmed prisoners in their midst. [Footnote: Hormayr's "Life of

Andreas Hofer," vol. i., p. 259.]

All Innspruck had put on its holiday attire; at all the windows were

to be seen gayly-dressed ladies and rejoicing girls, holding in

their hands wreaths, which they threw down on the victors. The bells

of all the churches were ringing, not the tocsin, but peals of joy

and thanksgiving.

For the task was accomplished, the Tyrol was free! In three days

after the insurrection broke out, the Tyrolese, by means solely of

their own valor and patriotism, aided by the natural strength of the

country, had entirely delivered the province from the enemy. The

capitulation of Wiltau crowned the work of deliverance, to the

everlasting glory of the brave Martin Teimer, and to the disgrace of

General Bisson and the French and Bavarians. [Footnote: Major Teimer

was rewarded for this capitulation of Wiltau with the title of Baron

von Wiltau, and with the order of Maria Theresa. The Emperor of

Austria, besides, presented him with valuable estates in Styria.]

There were great rejoicings in Innspruck all the day long; glad

faces were to be met with everywhere, and all shouted

enthusiastically: "We have become Austrians again! We are subjects

of the Emperor of Austria again! Long live the free Tyrol! Long live

the Emperor Francis!"

The streets presented a very lively appearance; all the painters of

the city were occupied in removing the hateful Bavarian colors, blue

and white, from the signs and houses, and putting on them the

Austrian, black and gold; and the Tyrolese marksmen held a regular

target-shooting at the Bavarian lion, which, to the great disgust of

the Tyrolese, had been raised four years ago over the entrance of

the imperial palace. Prizes were awarded for every piece which was

shot from it, and the principal reward was granted to him who

pierced the crown of the lion.

Yes, the northern Tyrol was free; but the South, the Italian Tyrol,

was groaning yet under the yoke of French oppression, and Andreas

Hofer intended to march thither with his forces, as he had concerted

at Vienna with the Archduke John and Hormayr, in order to bring to

the Italian Tyrolese the liberty which the German Tyrolese had

already conquered.

Hence Andreas Hofer, though his heart yearned for it, had refrained

from making his solemn entrance into Innspruck, and had gone on the

17th of April to Meran, where he was to review the Landsturm of that

town and its environs, the brave men who were to accompany him on

his expedition to the Italian Tyrol.

The Tyrolese were drawn up in four lines; at their head was to be

seen Hormayr, surrounded by the priests and civil officers who had

been exiled by the Bavarians, and who were returning now with him

and the Austrian army.

A cloud of dust arose from the neighboring gorges of the Passeyr

valley, and a joyous murmur ran through the ranks of the Tyrolese.

Deafening cheers rent the air then, for Andreas Hofer galloped up on

a fine charger, followed by the men of the Passeyr valley. His face

glowed, his eyes beamed with delight, and his whole bearing breathed

unbounded satisfaction and happiness.

He shook hands with Hormayr, laughing merrily. "We have kept," he

exclaimed, "the promises we made at Vienna, have we not? And our

dear Archduke John, I suppose, will be content with us?"

"He sends the best greetings of his love to his dear Andreas Hofer,"

said Hormayr, "and thanks him for all he has done here."

"He thanks me?" asked Hofer, in surprise. "We have done only what

our hearts longed for, and fulfilled our own wishes. We wished to

become Austrians again, for Austrians means Germans; we wanted no

longer to be Bavarians, for Bavarians meant French; hence, we were

anxious to rid our mountains of the disgrace and make our country

again free and a province of Germany. We have succeeded in doing so,

for the good God blessed our efforts and helped us in our sore

distress. Now we are once more the faithful children of our dear

emperor, and the dear Archduke John will come to us and stay with us

as governor of the Tyrol."

"He certainly will, and I know that he longs to live again in the

midst of his faithful Tyrolese. But for this reason, Andy, we must

help him that he may soon come to us, and aid him in delivering the

Southern Tyrol. I have great news for you, Andy, from the Archduke

John. I wished to communicate it to you first of all. No one was to

hear of it previous to you."

"I hope it is good news, Baron von Hormayr," said Andreas Hofer,

anxiously. "The dear archduke, I trust, has not met with a disaster?

Tell me quick, for my heart throbs as though one of my dear children

were in imminent peril."

"You yourself are a child, Andy. Do you suppose I should look so

cheerful if our dear archduke had met with a disaster? And even

though such were the case, would I then be so stupid as to inform

you of it now, at this joyful hour, when it is all-important that we

should be in high spirits? No, Andy, I bring splendid news. The

Archduke John achieved yesterday glorious victory at Sacile over the

Viceroy of Italy, Eugene Beauharnais; it was a great triumph, for he

took eight thousand prisoners, and captured a great many guns. But

amidst this triumph he thought of his dear Tyrolese, and dispatched

from the battle-field a courier who was to bring to me the news and

his order to tell his dear Tyrolese that he defeated the French

yesterday."

Andreas Hofer, overjoyed and with his countenance full of sunshine

and happiness, galloped down the long line of his sharpshooters.

"Hurrah! my dear friends and brethren," he shouted, "the Archduke

John sends his greetings to you. and informs you that he defeated

the French yesterday at Sacile and took eight thousand prisoners and

a great many guns. Hurrah! long live the Archduke John, the future

governor of the Tyrol!"

And the Tyrolese repeated, with deafening cheers: "Hurrah! long live

the Archduke John, the future governor of the Tyrol!"

"And I have to bring you still another greeting from the Archduke

John," shouted Baron von Hormayr. "But you shall not hear it here in

the plain, but up at the ancient castle of Tyrol. It is true, the

Bavarians and the miserable French have destroyed the fine castle,

but the ruins of the ancient seat of our princes remain to us. We

will now ascend to those ruins, and up there you shall hear the

message which the Archduke John sends to you."

The whole force of the Tyrolese thereupon moved up the mountain-path

leading to the castle of Tyrol, headed by Andreas Hofer and Baron

von Hormayr.

On reaching the crest of the hill, Hofer stopped and alighted from

his horse. He knelt down amidst the ruins of the castle with a

solemn, deeply-moved face, and holding the crucifix on his breast

between his hands, and lifting his eyes to heaven, he exclaimed with

fervent devotion: "Thanks, Lord God, thanks for the aid that thou

halt hitherto vouchsafed to us! Thanks for delivering the country

and permitting us to be Austrians again! O God, grant now stability

to our work--and preserve it from falling to ruin! If Thou art

content with me, let me further serve and be useful to my native

country! I am but a weak instrument in Thy hand, my God, but Thou

hast used it, and I pray Thee not to cast it aside now, but impart

to it strength and durability, that it may last until the enemy has

been driven from the country, and the whole Tyrol is free again for

evermore! I kiss the dear soil where our princes walked in former

times, and where they swore to their Tyrolese that they should be

freemen, and that their free constitution should be sacred for all

time to come!"

He bent down, kissed the moss-grown stones, and encircled them

tenderly with his arms as though they were an altar before which he

was uttering devout vows and prayers. The Tyrolese, who had

gradually reached the summit, had silently knelt down behind Andreas

Hofer, and were praying like him.

One sentiment animated them all and illuminated their faces with the

radiant lustre of joy: the Tyrol was delivered from the foreign

yoke, and they, the sons of the country, had alone liberated their

beloved fatherland.

"Now, men of the Tyrol," shouted Hormayr, "listen to the message

which the Archduke John sends to you."

And amid the solemn silence of the Tyrolese, and the peals of the

Meran church--bells penetrating up to them, Hormayr read to them a

document drawn up by the Archduke John, by virtue of which he

resumed possession of the Tyrol in the name of the emperor, declared

it to be incorporated with the imperial states, and solemnly vowed

that, as a reward of its loyalty, it should remain united with

Austria for all future time. At the same time, the ancient

constitution and the former privileges were restored to the

Tyrolese, and Baron von Hormayr was appointed governor of the Tyrol.

Andreas Hofer: An Historical Novel · 第 19 / 44 章