Читать книгу The Year Nine: A Tale of the Tyrol - Anne Manning - Страница 11

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DING-DONG, ding-dong! Clang!—go the little and great church bells. Bang! go the cannon; crack, crack! the rifles. The Tyrol is up!

The night of the eighth of April was dark and gloomy. General Chastelar and Baron Hormayr passed it in riding through the Austrian troops to give the necessary orders for the intended movement, and to see that everything was in a state of preparation. The stillness which reigned around was only broken by the measured tramp of many feet, the hollow rattle of artillery, the lumbering of ammunition-wagons, and now and then a clear-toned voice issuing a brief order.

Hofer and Martin Teimer, during this wakeful night, were busy in the Sandwirth's kitchen, drawing up a general order to this effect:—

"On the 11th of April General Chastelar will arrive at Innsbruck, and General Hiler at Brixen.

"The Archduke John directs the men of Pusterthal to occupy the pass of Mulbach, and the Rittnern that of the Kuntersweg, that we may be possessed of the strongest position before the Bavarians are alarmed, and attempt to fly from Brixen to Botzen.

"Kolbe, by order of the Archduke, is to command at Kuntersweg, take charge of prisoners, and protect the persons and papers of those Bavarian officers who have been distinguished for their inveteracy against the Austrian government and the Tyrol from all injury and ill-treatment; but on no pretence to allow them to proceed from Ritten to Botzen. At Kaltern Joseph Morandel is chosen commander by the Archduke, and has received orders what to do. Count Arzt commands at Nonsburg, and Baron Hormayr is Commissary-General.

"Given at Sand, in Passeyr, on the 9th of April, 1809.

"Martin Teimer,

"Andrew Hofer, Publican."

While it was yet dark, Teimer was hastening over the mountains to Oberinthal, to join the Austrians; and Hofer to the muster-ground of the men of Passeyr, appointed on the shooting-match day. With dawning light, the eagerly-watching peasants, lower down the rivers, saw sawdust floating on the surface of the Passeyr and the Inn, and understood the signal; while, among the hills and mountains, billets, inscribed "'Tis time!" flew from hand to hand, from house to house, like the fiery cross: and men hastily caught up their rifles, buckled on their shot-belts, and poured forth.

At three o'clock in the morning the Austrian advanced guard was in motion. Chastelar and Hormayr harangued their troops, inciting them to ardour; and before the march had lasted a couple of hours, the thunder of distant guns and the tumultuous din of alarm-bells resounded through the valleys. Innumerable fires were discovered on the heights; and as Chastelar's division advanced up the Drauthal, thousands of men, women, and children came forth to meet it, waving green boughs, and pressing forwards to kiss the hands and even the feet of their deliverers. The force consisted, in all, of sixteen battalions of foot, and three squadrons of horse.

Meanwhile, Hofer, at the head of five thousand strong, was crossing the Jauffen, to intercept the enemy between Brixen and the Brenner.

On reaching the muster-ground, a succession of short, abrupt, hearty cheers had greeted him. He said little more than "Are we all ready, brothers? Then no time is to be lost;" but his look was as gay as a bridegroom's, and they started forth like guests hurrying to a wedding.

Passing the little village of St. Leonard, they struck up to the old Castle of Jauffen; and then began to climb a steep and stony path resembling the dry bed of a torrent, being strewn with boulders; shaded here and there with walnuts and budding elders. Presently the path ran along a precipitous slope, high above the valley, and occasionally crossing chasms on most insecure-looking bridges of poles, carelessly laid across, that required Tyrolean nerves to tread in confidence. These men thought nothing whatever about it, unless the idea occurred how easily they could pull the loose poles after them if the enemy were behind.

The last village on their ascent was Walten. Up to this point they had chatted and occasionally sung a verse or two of some patriotic song; but now they must husband their breath; there would not be another rood of level ground. Now pastures, now fir-woods, here and there a lonely cottage, but still ascending. They get beyond the straggling pines, to bare, thin turf, with the rock frequently forcing itself through it. Here and there are cool, bubbling springs, at which many slake their thirst.

Poles, to guide the winter traveller, are next reached; then, a tall cross, in passing which each man reverently crosses himself. And now they are on the topmost ridge.

They look around from their seven thousand feet elevation with a feeling of satisfaction. This is not the Jauffen, but above it; the amphitheatre of rocky peaks around and below them, and the wild glaciers of the Oetzthal and Stubagerthal, are familiar to them all; yet not so much so as to have lost their power of impressing the imagination. They stand a few minutes, silent and serious, in the felt presence of the God who made the mountains. The Tyrolese are deeply religious: the scenes around them continually bring them into communion with the God of nature; and the perils by which they are environed, as constantly remind them of their dependence on the God of redemption.

Onward again they go, down to a turfy little level where Hofer bids them halt. It is now nearly noon; each man has brought a rye-cake or two; they make their frugal meal, and drink water from the spring. Hofer has a bottle of beer, which he shares as far as it will go.

After this temperate repast, the five thousand resume their march. Among the firs once more; then another rude cross; then a little oratory in the rock, with a carved and painted representation of the Saviour on the crucifix in a railed recess, with seats and kneeling benches in front. Still downwards leads their path, towards Sterzinger Moss, between banks covered with wild strawberry blossoms.

Hereabouts they fell in with several peasants from the neighbourhood of Mauls and Mittelwald, who seemed in great excitement. Hofer immediately stepped on to meet them. "What is going forward, brothers?" cried he.

"Much," replied one of them eagerly. "A French column has taken possession of the bridge of Laditch, and the Bavarians have seized the bridge of St. Lorenzen. Both are being furiously contested for, and it would be well if we could get up with them in time to be of assistance to our men at either place; but here is another detachment of Bavarians close upon us."

"Never mind; we'll beat them first, and help the others afterwards."

"Are you Hofer's men?"

"Yes; that is, I am Hofer. We are all brethren. Where are the Bavarians?"

"In the Valley of the Eisach. They are this side Sterzing already."

"All the better! Never fear!"

"Fear! Certainly not—even our women and girls are not afraid. See, they are driving our hay-wagons, and singing and shouting as they come. We could not wait for them, but they will soon be up with us; and the wagons will afford us excellent cover, with the advantage of height, for firing on the enemy; besides being moveable barricades."

"Capital! He was a clever fellow who thought of it."

"A woman thought of it—my daughter Margaret!"

"Excellent!—Well, we have no time to lose."

"No, we shall see them directly. They are under Colonel Dittfurt, who wants to join General Kinkel."

"He shall not, if we can help it.—Brothers! there is little to say. These two forces must be prevented from meeting. One of them is close upon us. Prepare for immediate action."

"They're coming!" screamed a woman, standing up on the top of a wagon, piled high with hay; and her little boy immediately hitting the horses nearest him with a stick, they pulled forward with a jerk which overset the woman on the hay, and made some hundreds of men laugh. It has a curious effect when a multitude of voices utter a "He-he-he!"

Hofer saw at once where to dispose the wagons in the defile; not an unnecessary direction was given, for he was ever a man of few words; often a look, a gesture sufficed; and the Tyrolese obeyed him as the Roman legion obeyed Cæsar in Britain—"at a word, and at the moment."

Soon, those who were in the rear heard the crack of rifles in front. It would seem as though the Bavarians were taken by surprise; for at first they fell back, returning only a few scattered shot; but presently they recovered themselves and began a continuous fire of musketry. As the defile, however, would only permit a small body of them to enter it, their superiority of numbers was of no advantage to them in a coup-de-main, and only availed in filling up the ranks of those who were constantly shot down. Four-fifths of their bullets were wasted on rocks, trees, and brushwood; while their ambuscaded foes, entrenched behind trusses of hay, tree-stumps, and heaps of stones, securely picked them off and hardly threw away a shot.

Margaret, quick-witted lass, danced and capered at the top of her father's wagon, crying and almost screaming, "Never mind the Bavarian smoke-pellets!"

Towards evening, a strong detachment of French afforded a diversion in favour of the Bavarians, and assailed the Tyrolese from the other end of the defile by an incessant fire, for some time without effect. At length, overpowered by numbers, they were beginning to give way, when at this critical moment Colonel Gerhardi, the "Adolph" who had breakfasted at Wolfsthrun, appeared on the heights with between two and three hundred light horse, and immediately charged the enemy, shouting loudly. In a few minutes the firing of the French and Bavarians ceased; the Tyrolese uttered exclamations of joy and thankfulness, some fell on their knees to bless Heaven, while others cheered on their allies.

The Bavarians retreated towards Sterzing, with considerable loss of killed, wounded, and prisoners; while the French division fled in the opposite direction. Hofer and his men spent the night on the heights; and with dawning day were again attacked by the Bavarians, who rallied on Sterzinger Moss; but the Tyrolese sharpshooters, sheltered by the rocks, made dreadful havoc amongst them, and the artillerymen were several times shot away from their guns.

At length, the Tyrolese made a desperate charge, armed with spears, pitchforks, scythes, axes, and any implements they could muster; while others on the verge of the heights, hurled down masses of rock on their opponents. After some hours, the Bavarians gave way; and having lost several of their best officers and above two hundred and forty men killed and wounded, threw down their arms and surrendered.

The old castle of Wolfsthrun had been prepared, as well as circumstances permitted, for the reception of wounded men and prisoners, by Hildegarde Von Sternach; and she was not a little glad that Adolph's mother had already joined her, when a messenger from him informed her that five hundred and eighty prisoners were being brought up to the castle.

Hofer and his companions, like hungry men as they were, were meantime devouring their remnant of rye-cakes with abundance of Spartan sauce, and slaking their thirst at the springs. At this moment, Rudolf came panting up to Hofer, whom he had found with no small difficulty.

"Sandwirth!" exclaimed he, "what a night you must have had! So have we, but we kept possession of the bridges; and General Chastelar opportunely came up to us just as the French received reinforcements from Mantua. You bade me let you know how things were going, or I would not have left, for the men of Innthal were about to attack them in front, while the men of Whippthal fell on them from the rear."

Another Tyrolese here came up, and said, "I've been looking out along the Sterzing road, Sandwirth, and met a man who told me that a strong force of Bavarians is trying to reach Innsbruck, under General Wrede; but the peasants swarm the rocks and impede their march, having broken the bridges, and blocked up the roads with felled trees. I am sorry to add, that the Bavarians, being much exasperated, are committing every sort of excess."

"No doubt of their being exasperated, brother," said Hofer. "May be, we should feel so in their place; but since we see how ugly it is in them, do not let us, who have not the same excuse, be tempted to the smallest pillage, cruelty, or violence; otherwise God will cease to bless us."

How fared it, meanwhile, with Speckbacher? He was sharpening a coulter outside the stable of his little cottage at Rinn, which stands amidst a clump of larch and beech-trees; when Maria his wife smilingly came up to him to show him that his youngest infant had just cut its first tooth, and to ask him if it did not remind him of a pearl upon a rose-leaf. Just then, his rustic servant Zoppel put a little slip of wood into his hand, bearing the inscription roughly endorsed, "'Tis time!"

Down went the coulter; he kissed wife and infant, and hurried into the house, followed, wherever he went, by his little son Anderl, who wistfully eyed him as he took up his rifle.

The last word having been spoken cheerily, Speckbacher sped on his way, watched only for a minute by Maria, who felt a tear glistening in her eye and did not wish him to see it. So she re-entered the house.

Meanwhile, the little boy ran after him.

"Father! let me go too!"

"You? you little rogue! No, no, not this time. You must stay at home and take care of your mother."

"But she doesn't want taking care of, father!—Besides, there's Zoppel.—Do let me go!"

"When you are a bigger boy, you shall, I promise you."

"Perhaps there will be no fighting then."

"All the better."

"Please let me go, father!"

"What good could a little chap like you do?"

"Take care of you, father!"

"Ha, ha! Capital! I hope to take care of myself, dear boy."

"But, father, you want me to be brave, like you, when I come to be a man. How can I be, unless I look on, and see what brave men do?"

Speckbacher felt his throat swell. He turned about, took the boy in his arms, lifted him up from the ground, and kissed him several times.

"There," said he. "Go home now, like a good boy. Another time."

There was a tear on the little boy's cheek as he stood watching the retreating figure—a tear that had not fallen from his own eyes. He brushed it off—looked at it—and then trotted away into the brushwood; from whence, as he kept running along, he could get glimpses of his father, himself unseen. Once he saw Speckbacher pause and look back; perhaps to see if his little boy had obeyed him and gone home. After that, he never looked back again; he pressed forward to the things that were before him.

The young boy still went on; his short, quick steps keeping pretty well up with his father's strides. Children that walk much with their parents generally step out well. Now and then he had to force his way among the bushes, or go a little way round; for which he made up afterwards by running. He had no settled purpose, except just to keep his father a little longer in sight.

At length he grew tired and thought he must give up. Just then a man joined Speckbacher and stopped him to speak to him, pointing towards Halle. Anderl sat down and had a long rest. When Speckbacher went on again, the little boy felt refreshed, and was able to follow him with ease. Presently some men came running down the hills by various paths, and joined Speckbacher. They all walked on very fast. Afterwards they reached a vast body of men, who shouted when they saw Speckbacher till the hills rang again. When he came up to them they had a long parley, frequently pointing towards Volders and Halle; and they finished by all walking off together in that direction, with Speckbacher at their head.

The little boy now thought he could not turn back; it was too exciting to be resisted; and, as he had now had a second good rest, he trotted on again, keeping up with them as a little dog does with a spirited horse.

By and by the men halted. They sat down on the grass near a spring, and pulled out some rye-cakes and began to eat. This was their supper. The sun was going down, and they did not want to fall on the Bavarians, in Volders, till dark. Anderl did not know this. He was surprised, and a little afraid, to find himself alone, so far from home, when night was drawing on; but he never thought of leaving his father. To look on and see some thousand men eating while he was fasting, was rather tantalizing; however, he did so very patiently; and when, after a long rest, they renewed their march, he saw one, who had been talking in preference to eating, leave a rye-cake behind him. As soon as they were sufficiently in advance, Anderl ran down and seized the cake, pursuing his way while he ate it.

The men were now getting among the trees, overhanging a road, and moving stealthily so as not to be easily seen. Anderl was startled by a church-clock striking quite near him; and could imperfectly make out white buildings here and there, a river, and a bridge. Presently a discharge of fire-arms was heard in advance. Some horsemen dashed along the road, and were shot down. Others dashed after them, and shared the same fate. Others again and again filled up the road, maintaining a fire that would have been destructive had it not, as little Anderl observed, been expended on bushes and trees. Presently a bullet nearly hit him; only, as it did not, he picked it up and put it in his pocket. At last he had collected quite a little heap, regardless of the shot that whistled round him.

By and by he observed that his father, towards whom he had crept with the instinct of affection, ceased firing, though the enemy was not yet silenced. What could be the reason? It struck him that he must have expended all his bullets; which, indeed, was the case. So he ran up to him with his handkerchief, which was now quite full of them, and plucked him by the sleeve, saying, "Father, here are some more to go on with."

It would have been worth a world to you to see Speckbacher's start!

"You here?" said he, in amaze.

"Yes, father; I could not bear to lose sight of you, so I kept running on till the firing began; and then, when I saw how the Bavarians wasted their bullets, I picked up as many as I could. If you'll use these, father, I'll soon bring you some more."

Speckbacher could not speak. He caught him to his heart, gave him a hug, held him there a moment, and then set him down.

"Off with you into cover, you young rogue," said he; "never mind any more bullets."

And, handing a few of them to a comrade who stood close by, he said, with a choke in his voice, "These will hit the mark, surely, considering how they have been brought!"

That night Speckbacher and his companions drove the Bavarians out of Volders. At daybreak they were at the gates of Halle.