CHAPTER XVI.

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.