Part 63 (1/2)
Joseph Speckbacher marched his intrepid men to the Ziller valley and the Muhlbach Pa.s.s, where he united with Joachim Haspinger, and advanced with him upon the enemy.
All were in good spirits, and no one believed in the dreadful tidings which at first had frightened them all so much: no one believed that peace had been made.
Andreas Hofer himself thought the news was false. He had remained courageous and undaunted in spite of the disastrous battle on Mount Isel, and he sent messengers throughout the country, calling upon all able-bodied men to take up arms and attack the enemy, who had invaded the Tyrol once more. He was still encamped with his army near Mount Isel, and had established his headquarters at Steinach.
The crown prince of Bavaria had sent to him hither two plenipotentiaries, who informed him that peace had really been concluded, and that the Tyrolese had no course left but submission.
But Andreas Hofer replied to these plenipotentiaries, shaking his head indignantly, ”That is a mean lie; the Emperor Francis, our beloved master, will never abandon his loyal Tyrolese. He pledged us his word, and he will keep it. Your intention is to deceive us, but you cannot catch us by such stratagems. We believe in the emperor and the good G.o.d, and neither of them will ever abandon us!”
And Andreas Hofer returned to his room with a calm smile and went to bed.
In the dead of night, however, he was suddenly aroused from his sleep. Cajetan Doeninger stood at his bedside and informed him that the intendant of the Puster valley, Baron von Worndle, had arrived with an envoy of the Emperor Francis, Baron von Lichtenthurn, and both wished urgently to see the commander-in-chief.
”I will admit them,” said Hofer, rising hastily; ”G.o.d grant that they are the bearers of good news!”
He dressed himself quickly and followed Doeninger into the room, where he found the two envoys and several members of his suite.
”Now tell me, gentlemen, what news do you bring to us?” asked Hofer, shaking hands with the two envoys.
”No good news, commander-in-chief,” sighed Baron von Worndle, ”but there is no use in complaining; we must submit patiently to what cannot be helped. The Emperor Francis has mane peace with France.”
”Do you sing in that strain too, Mr. Intendant?” asked Andreas, with a mournful smile. ”I shall never believe it until I see it in black and white, and until the emperor or the dear Archduke John informs me of it.”
”I bring it to you in black and white,” exclaimed Baron von Lichtenthurn, drawing a paper from his bosom and handing it to Andreas. ”Here is a letter from the Archduke John, which I am to deliver to you.”
Hofer hastily seized the paper, which contained that proclamation which the Archduke John had written at Totis, and read it again and again slowly and attentively. While he was doing so, his cheeks turned pale, his breath issued heavily and painfully from his breast, and the paper rustled in his trembling hands.
”It is impossible! I cannot believe it!” he exclaimed, mournfully, gazing upon the paper. ”The Archduke John did not write this. Just look at it, his seal is not affixed to the paper. Sir, how can you say that this letter is from the Archduke John? Where is the seal?
Where is the address?”
”Well, it is no private letter,” said Baron von Lichtenthurn; ”it is an open letter, a proclamation, which I am instructed to show to everybody in the Tyrol. A proclamation cannot contain a seal and an address. But the Archduke John sent it; he himself wrote every word of it.”
”I do not believe it!” cried Andreas, in a triumphant voice; ”no, I do not believe it. You are a liar, and want to betray us. Look at him, my friends; see how pale he turns, and how he trembles! For I tell you he has a bad conscience. Bring me the Archduke John's seal, and then I will believe that the paper is from him. But, as it is, I look upon it as a cunning device got up by the enemy to entrap me.
Arrest him; he must confess all. I will not allow myself to be caught by cunning and treachery!” [Footnote: Andreas Hofer's own words.--See Hormayr's ”Andreas Hofer,” vol. ii, p. 490.]
He laid his heavy hand upon the shoulder of the baron, who sank to the floor, uttering a loud cry of distress, and fell into fearful convulsions.
”See!” cried Andreas, ”that is the punishment of Heaven! The hand of G.o.d has struck him. He is a traitor, who intended to sell us to the French.”
”No, he is an honorable man, and has told you the truth,” said Baron von Worndle, gravely. ”Your violent accusation frightened him; and he fell into an epileptic fit. He is affected with that disease.”
[Footnote: Ibid.]
He and some of the bystanders raised the unfortunate baron from the ground, and carried him into the adjoining room. He then returned to Andreas, who was walking up and down with a hasty step, and murmuring to himself, ”I cannot believe it! The Archduke John did not write it. His hand would have withered while writing it. He did not do it.”
”Yes, Andreas, he did,” said Worndle, gravely; ”he was obliged to submit, as we all shall have to do. The Archduke John was obliged to yield to the will of his emperor as we shall have to do. The treaty of peace has been concluded. There is no doubt of it.”
”Lord G.o.d! the treaty of peace has been concluded, and the emperor abandons us?” cried Andreas.
”The emperor, it seems, was unable to do any thing for the Tyrol,”
said Worndle in a low voice. ”He had to consent that the Tyrol should be restored to the French and Bavarians.”
”But that is impossible!” cried Andreas, despairingly. ”He pledged us his word, his sacred word, that he would never consent to a peace that would detach the Tyrol from Austria. How can you now insult the dear emperor by saying that he has broken his word?”