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on earth! Preserve my dear husband to me, and to my children the
father whom they love so ardently!"

"Amen!" exclaimed Andreas. "And now, dearest wife, come and give me
a kiss, a parting kiss!"

"You do not intend to set out this very night?" asked Gertrude,
anxiously.

"No, Gertrude, but still it is a parting kiss. For henceforth I must
become another man - a hard man, who will no longer think of his
family, but only of the fatherland and the emperor. I wept a few
minutes ago as a good father and husband, but now I must become as
hard as a good soldier ought to be. Until the Bavarians have been
expelled from the country, I shall no longer think of you and the
children, but shall be only a brave and intrepid soldier of my lord
and emperor, and the commander of the Passeyr militia. Kiss me,
therefore, a last time, Anna Gertrude! There! Give me another kiss!
Who knows but it may be the last time you will ever kiss me, dear
Gertrude? And here is still another kiss for our girls. Now it is
enough. Go to bed now, Gertrude, and pray for me."

"You will not go to bed, Andy?" asked Gertrude, anxiously.

"No, I will not, Anna Gertrude. I have business to attend to in the
yard with Joe, our laborer. We will kill the brindled cow."

"What? This very night?"

"This very night. We need the blood and meat. We shall pour the
blood into the Passeyr, and you will see tomorrow that we need the
meat, for I believe we shall have a great many guests in the
morning."

Andreas Hofer's prophecy was fulfilled. Already early in the morning
a great many men assembled in front of the inn Zum Sand. They were
the sharpshooters of the Passeyr valley, who were flocking from all
parts of the district to Hofer's house to report to the beloved
commander of Passeyr. They came down from the mountains and up from
the valleys. They wore their holiday dresses, and their yellow
Sunday hats were decorated with bouquets of rosemary and handsome
ribbons. They were merry and in the best of spirits, as if they were
going to the dance; only instead of their rosy-cheeked girls, they
held their trusty rifles in their arms. Nevertheless, they smacked
their lips, uttered loud exclamations of joy, and shouted as merrily
as larks - "'Tis time! The Bavarians must leave the country! Long
live the emperor! Long live the Archduke John!"

And echo seemed to answer, "The Bavarians must leave the country!"
But it was not echo that had repeated these words. They proceeded
from the throats of merry men, and a gay procession descended now
from the mountain-path. It consisted of the sharpshooters and
peasants of Meran and Algund, who were marching up in the beautiful
costumes of the Adige valley. Oh, how their eyes flashed, and the
rifles in their arms also. And with what jubilant Jodlers the men of
Passeyr received their dear friends from Algund and Meran.

All at once every sound was hushed, for in the door of the inn
appeared Andreas Hofer, looking like a king in his handsome holiday
attire; his good-natured, honest face gleamed with joy, and his
glance was mild and clear, and yet so firm and commanding. His whole
bearing breathed calm dignity, and it seemed to the men of Passeyr
as though the morning sun which illuminated his face surrounded his
head with a golden halo. They stood aside with timid reverence and
awe. Hofer advanced into the middle of the circle which the men of
Passeyr, Meran, and Algund formed around him. He then looked around
and greeted the men on all sides with a smile, a pleasant nod, and a
wave of his hand.

"My friends," he exclaimed in a loud voice, "the day has come when
we must expel the Bavarians from the country and restore the Tyrol
to the Austrians. 'Tis time! The Bavarians have amply deserved such
treatment at our hands, for they have sorely oppressed us. When you
had finished a wooden image, could you carry it to Vienna and sell
it? No, you could not! Is that freedom? You are Tyrolese; at least
your fathers called themselves so; now you are to call yourselves
Bavarians. And, moreover, our ancient castle of Tyrol in the Passeyr
valley was not spared! Are you satisfied with this? If you harvest
three blades of corn, the government claims two of them; is that
happiness and prosperity? But there is a Providence and there are
angels; and it was revealed to me that if we resolved to avenge our
wrongs, God and St. George, our patron saint, would help us. Up,
then, against the Bavarians! Tear the villains with your teeth while
they stand; but when they kneel down and pray, give them quarter. Up
against the Bavarians! 'Tis time!"

"Up against the Bavarians! 'tis time!" shouted all the brave men,
enthusiastically; and the mountain echoes answered: "Up against the
Bavarians! 'tis time!"

And the blood-red waters of the Passeyr carried down into the valley
the message: "Up against the Bavarians! 'tis time!"


CHAPTER X.

ANTHONY WALLNER OF WINDISCH-MATREY.


An unusual commotion reigned in the market-place of Windisch-Matrey
on the afternoon of the 9th of April. The men and youths of
Windisch-Matrey and its environs were assembled there in dense
groups, and thronged in constantly-increasing masses round the house
of the innkeeper Anthony Aichberger, called Wallner. The women, too,
had left their houses and huts, and hastened to the market-place.
Their faces were as threatening as those of the men; their eyes shot
fire, and their whole bearing betokened unusual excitement.
Everywhere loud and vehement words were uttered, clinched fists were
raised menacingly, and glances of secret understanding were
exchanged.

The liveliest scene, however, took place in the large barroom of the
inn. The foremost men of the whole district, strong, well-built
forms, with defiant faces and courageous bearing, had assembled
there around Anthony Wallner-Aichberger. They spoke but little, but
sat on the benches against the walls of the room, and stared into
their glasses, which Eliza, Wallner's eldest daughter, filled again
and again with beer. Even the young girl, who was usually so gay and
spirited, seemed to-day sad and dejected. Formerly her merry
laughter and clear, ringing voice were heard everywhere; to-day she
was moody and taciturn. Formerly her checks glowed like purple
roses, a charming arch expression played around her beautiful small
mouth, and the fire and spirit of youth beamed from her large black
eyes; to-day, only a faint crimson tinged Eliza's cheeks, her lips
were firmly compressed, and her eyes were dim and lustreless. From
time to time, while waiting on the guests, she cast an anxious,
searching glance through the windows over the market-place, and
seemed to listen to the hum of voices, which often became as
deafening as the wild roar of the storm, and shook the window-panes.

Anthony Wallner, her father, was likewise grave and anxious, and in
walking to the groups of guests seated on the benches here and
there, he glanced uneasily toward the windows.

"It may be that they will not come, after all, Tony, and that the
Viennese have fooled you," whispered old Thurnwalden from Meran to
him.

"I cannot comprehend it," sighed Anthony Wallner. "The insurrection
was to break out on the 9th of April, and the Austrian troops were
to cross the frontier on that day; and this was the reason why we
have hitherto resisted the conscription and refused to pay the new
taxes. But the 9th of April has come now, and we have received no
message from Hofer or the Austrians."

"And to-day the time which the Bavarians have given us is up,"
growled George Hinnthal; "if our young lads do not report
voluntarily to the enrolling officers by this evening, they will be
arrested to-morrow."

"They shall not be arrested," exclaimed one of the Tyrolese,
striking the table with his powerful fist.

"No, they shall not be arrested," echoed all, in loud, defiant
tones.

"But you will not be able to prevent them," said old Thurnwalden,
when all were silent again and had drunk a long draught from their
glasses as if to confirm their words. "You know there is a whole
company of soldiers at Castle Weissenstein, and Ulrich von
Hohenberg, the castellan's nephew, is their captain. He is a
Bavarian, body and soul, and, if we resist the authorities, he will
lead his men with muskets and field-pieces against us."

"Why, you have become greatly discouraged, Caspar Thurnwalden," said
Anthony Wallner, sneeringly, "and one would almost think you had
turned a friend of the Bavarians. We have got as good muskets as the
Bavarians, and if they shoot we shall shoot back. And as for the
field-pieces, why, we have got wheels and may roll down cannon from
Castle Weissenstein to Windisch-Matrey. But come, my dear friends, I
see the Bavarian tax-collectors walking across the market-place
yonder. They look very grim and stern, as if they meant to devour us
all. Let us go out and see what is going on."

The men rose as if obeying a military order, and followed Anthony
Wallner from the room to the market-place. Eliza Wallner was for a
moment alone in the room; and now that she had no longer to fear the
eyes of the guests, she sank quite exhausted on a chair and buried
her face in her trembling hands.

"What am I to do?" she murmured in a low voice. "Oh, God in heaven,
would I could die this very hour!"

"Why do you weep, Lizzie?" asked a gentle voice by her side, and, on
looking up, Eliza beheld the grave, sympathetic face of her mother,
who had just entered the room without being heard by her. Eliza
sprang up and embraced her mother with passionate tenderness.
"Dearest mamma," she whispered, "I am afraid."

"Afraid of what?" asked her mother, in a low voice. "Are you afraid
the Austrians may not come, and the Bavarians may then imprison your
dear father, because they have found out that he has instigated the
people to disobey their behests?"

"No," said Eliza, blushing with shame, "no, that is not what I am
afraid of. They will not dare to arrest my dear father, for they
know full well that the people of the whole district are greatly
attached to him, and that the men of the whole Puster valley would
rise to deliver Anthony Wallner. It is something else, dearest
mother; come with me into the chamber; there I will tell you all."

She drew her mother hastily into the chamber adjoining the bar-room
and closed the door after her.

"Mother," she said, tremblingly and breathlessly, "listen to me now.
I am sure the Austrians are coming, and if the men outside hear of
it, they will kill all the Bavarians."

"Let them do it," said her mother composedly; "the mean, sneaking
Bavarians have certainly deserved to be killed after the infamous
treatment we have endured at their hands."

"But, mother, there are also good men among them," exclaimed Eliza.
"You know very well I am a loyal Tyrolese girl, and love my emperor
dearly, for you have taught me from my earliest youth that it was
incumbent on me to do so. But, mother, there are also good men among
the Bavarians. There is, for instance, Ulrich von Hohenberg up at
Castle Weissenstein. You know his cousin has always treated me as a
sister; we have grown up together, and I was allowed to participate
in her lessons and learn what she learned. We were always together,
and even now I have snot ceased going to Castle Weissenstein,
although it is garrisoned by a detachment of Bavarian soldiers.
Father himself wished me to go to the young lady as heretofore, for
he said it would look suspicious if I should stay away all of a
sudden. Therefore I went to see my dear friend Eliza von Hohenberg
every day, and I always met there her cousin, the captain of the
Bavarian soldiers. He is a very kind-hearted and merry gentleman,
mother, and it is no fault of his that he is a Bavarian. His father,
our castellan's brother, has lived for thirty years past down at
Munich, and his son entered the Bavarian service long before he knew
that we people of Windisch-Matrey desire to become Austrian subjects
again. Now his general sent him hither with his soldiers for the
purpose of helping the officers to collect the taxes and enroll the
names of our young men. Is he to blame for the necessity he is under
of obeying the orders of his general?"

"No, he is not," said her mother, gravely.

"But when the Austrians come now, and my father and the other men
rise, and expel and kill the Bavarians, they will kill Ulrich von
Hohenberg too, although it is not his fault that he is a Bavarian.
Oh, dearest mamma, he is such a good, kind-hearted young man! he is
my dear Eliza's cousin and our castellan's nephew, and you know how
well Eliza and her father have treated me, and that they take care
of me, whenever I am at the castle, as though I were the castellan's
own child. Dearest mamma, shall we permit our men to kill the nephew
of our excellent castellan?"

"No, we will not, Lizzie," said her mother, resolutely. "Quick, run
up the footpath leading to the castle. Tell the young officer that
the Tyrolese are going to deliver themselves from the Bavarian yoke,
and that he had better effect his escape while there is time."

"Mother, he will not do it, for he is a brave young man!" sighed
Eliza; "and then - I cannot betray father's secret to him. If the
Austrians did not come after all, and I had told Ulrich von
Hohenberg what father and the other Tyrolese intend to do, would I
not be a traitress, and would not father curse me?"

"True, true, that will not do," said her mother musingly; "your
father would never forgive you. But I know what you must do. Just
run up to the castle and act as though you wished only to pay a
visit to your friend Eliza; no one knows as yet what is going to
occur. None of your friends have disclosed the secret; and the
castellan too, though I think he is a good Austrian at heart, does
not yet know any thing about it. Your father told me so this very
morning. You will remain at the castle, and so soon as you hear the
report of a rifle on the market-place here, you will know that the
insurrection is breaking out. There is father's rifle; when it is
time, I will step out of the back gate with it and shoot. You will
hear the report, and tell the young officer that the Tyrolese are
going to rise, and that he had better conceal himself until the
first rage of the insurgents has blown over."

"Yes, I will do so," exclaimed Eliza; "I will run up to the castle
now. Good-by, dearest mamma."

She imprinted a kiss on the hand of her mother, and then sped away
as gracefully as a young roe.

"She is a very good girl," said her mother, looking after her
smilingly, "and has a soft and compassionate heart. She wishes to
save the castellan's nephew merely because she pities the young man
who is exposed to such imminent danger. It is very kind of her! It -
But, Holy Virgin! what is the matter outside? Is the outbreak to
commence already? I believe it is my Tony who is talking outside in
so loud a voice. I must go and hear what is the matter."

She hastened through the bar-room to the street-door opening upon
the market place.

Yes, it was Anthony Wallner-Aichberger who was gesticulating so
violently yonder. Round him stood the men of Windisch-Matrey,
looking with gloomy faces at the three Bavarian revenue officers who
were standing in front of Wallner.

"I repeat, sir," exclaimed Anthony Wallner at this moment with an
air of mock gravity, "that we are all very loyal and obedient
subjects, and that it is wrong in you. Mr. Tax-collector, to call us
stubborn, seditious fellows. If we were such, would we not, being so
numerous here, punish you and your two officers for speaking of us
so contemptuously and disrespectfully?"

"You know full well that, at a wave of my hand, the company of
soldiers will rush down from Castle Weissenstein and shoot you all
as traitors and rebels," said the tax-collector haughtily.

"Well, Mr. Tax-collector," exclaimed Wallner, smilingly, "as for the
shooting, we are likewise well versed in that. We are first-rate
marksmen, we Tyrolese!"

"What!" cried the tax-collector, furiously, "do you speak again of
Tyrolese? Did I not forbid you to call yourselves so? You are no
Tyrolese, but inhabitants of South-Bavaria, do you hear? His majesty
the King of Bavaria does not want any Tyrolese as subjects, but only
Southern Bavarians, as I have told you twice already." [Footnote:
See "Gallery of Heroes; Life of Andreas Hofer," p. 15.]

"Very well; if his majesty does not want any Tyrolese as subjects,
you need not tell us so more than once," exclaimed Anthony Wallner.
"He prefers Southern Bavarians, does he? Bear that in mind,
Tyrolese; the King of Bavaria wants only Southern Bavarians."

"We will bear that in mind," shouted the Tyrolese; and loud,
scornful laughter rolled like threatening thunder across the market-
place.

"You laugh," exclaimed the tax-collector, endeavoring to stifle his
rage; "I am glad you are so merry. To-morrow, perhaps, you will
laugh no longer; for I tell you, if you do not pay to-day the fine
imposed on you, I shall have it forcibly collected by the soldiers
at daybreak to-morrow morning."

"We must really pay the fine, then?" asked Anthony Wallner, with
feigned timidity. "You will not relent, then, Mr. Tax-collector? We
really must pay the heavy fine, because we had a little fun the
other day? For you must say yourself, sir, we really did no wrong."

"You did no wrong? You were in open insurrection. On the birthday of
your gracious master the king, instead of hanging out Bavarian
flags, as you had been ordered, you hung out Austrian flags
everywhere."

"No, Mr. Tax-collector, you did not see right; we hung out none but
Bavarian flags."

"That is false! I myself walked through the whole place, and saw
every thing with my own eyes. Your flags did not contain the
Bavarian colors, blue and white, but black and yellow, the Austrian
colors."

"Possibly they may have looked so," exclaimed Anthony Wallner, "but
that was not our fault. The flags were our old Bavarian flags: but
they were already somewhat old, the blue was faded and looked like
yellow, and the white had become quite dirty and looked like black."

"Thunder and lightning! Wallner is right," exclaimed the Tyrolese,
bursting into loud laughter. "The flags were our old Bavarian flags,
but they were faded and dirty."

The young lads, who had hitherto stood in groups around the outer
edge of the market-place, now mingled with the crowd to listen to
the speakers; and a young Tyrolese, with his rifle on his arm, and
his pointed hat over his dark curly hair, approached with such
impetuous curiosity that he suddenly stood close to the tax-
collector. However, he took no notice of the officer, but looked
with eager attention at Wallner, and listened to his words.

But the grim eyes of one of the two bailiffs noticed with dismay
that this impudent fellow dared to place himself close by the side
of the tax-collector without taking off his hat.

Striking with his fist on the young fellow's hat, he drove it deep
over his forehead.

"Villain!" he shouted, in a threatening voice, "do you not see the
tax-collector?"

The young fellow drew the hat with an air of embarrassment from his
forehead, and crimsoning with rage, but in silence, stepped back
into the circle of the murmuring men.

"That is just what you deserve, Joe," said Anthony Wallner. "Why did
a smart Tyrolese boy like you come near us Southern Bavarians when
we were talking about public parlour?"

At this moment a lad elbowed himself hastily through the crowd. His
dress was dusty, his face was flushed and heated and it seemed as
though he had travelled many miles on foot. To those who stood in
his way he said in a breathless, panting voice: "Please stand aside.
I have to deliver something to Anthony Wallner-Aichberger; I must
speak with him."

The men willingly stood aside. Now be was close behind Wallner, and,
interrupting him in his speech, he whispered to him: "I come from
Andreas Hofer; he sends you his greetings and this paper. I have run
all night to bring it to you."

He handed a folded paper to Wallner, who opened it with hands
trembling with impatience.

It was Andreas Hofer's "open order."

Wallner's face brightened up, he cast a fiery glance around the
place filled with his friends, and fixed his flashing eyes then on
the hat of the bailiff who had rebuked the young Tyrolese in so
overbearing a manner. At a bound he was by his side, drove the
bailiff's round official hat with one blow of his fist over his
head, so that his whole face disappeared in the crown, and exclaimed
in a loud, ringing voice:

"Villain! do you not see the Tyrolese?"

A loud outburst of exultation greeted Wallner's bold deed, and all
the men crowded around him, ready to protect Anthony Wallner, and
looking at the tax-collector with flashing, threatening eyes.

The latter seemed as if stunned by the sudden change in Wallner's
demeanor, and he looked in dismay at the audacious innkeeper who was
standing close in front of him and staring at him with a laughing
face.

"What does this mean?" he asked at length, in a tremulous voice.

"It means that we want to be Tyrolese again," shouted Anthony
Wallner, exultingly. "It means that we will no longer submit to
brutal treatment at the hands of your Bavarian bailiffs, and that we
will treat you now as you Boafoks have treated us for five years
past." [Footnote: Boafok, the nickname which the Tyrolese gave to
the Bavarians at that time. It signifies "Bavarian pigs."]

"For God's sake, how have we treated you, then?" asked the tax-
collector, drawing back from the threatening face of Anthony Wallner
toward his bailiffs.

"Listen to me, Tyrolese," shouted Anthony Wallner, scornfully, "he
asks me how the Bavarians have treated us! Shall I tell it to him
once more!"

"Yes, yes, Tony, do so," replied the Tyrolese on all sides.

"Tell it to him, and if he refuses to listen, we will tie him hand
and foot, and compel him to hear what you say."

"Well, Mr. Tax-collector," said Wallner, with mock politeness, "I
will tell you, then, how you Bavarians have treated us for four
years past, and only when you know all our grievances will we settle
our accounts. Listen, then, to what you have done to us, and what we
complain of. You have behaved toward us as perjured liars and
scoundrels, and I will prove it to you. In the first place, then, in
1805, when, to our intense grief and regret, our emperor was obliged
to cede the Tyrol to Bavaria, the King of Bavaria, in a letter which
he wrote to us, solemnly guaranteed our constitution and our ancient
privileges and liberties. That is what your king promised in 1805.
To be sure, we did not put much confidence in what he said, for we
well knew that when the big cat wants to devour the little mouse, it
treats the victim at first with great kindness and throws a small
bit of bacon to it; but no sooner does the mouse take it than the
cat pounces upon its unsuspecting victim and devours it. And such
was our fate too; the cat Bavaria wanted to swallow the little mouse
Tyrol; not even our name was to be left to us, and we were to be
called Southern Bavarians instead of Tyrolese. Besides, our ancient
Castle of Tyrol, the sacred symbol of our country, was dismantled
and destroyed. You thought probably we would forget the past and the
history of the Tyrol, and all that we are, if we no longer saw the
Castle of Tyrol, where the dear Margaret Maultasch solemnly
guaranteed to her Tyrolese their liberties, great privileges, and
independence, for all time to come. But all was written in our
hearts, and your infamous conduct engraved it only the more
lastingly thereon. You took from us not only our name, but also our
constitution, which all Tyrolese love as their most precious
treasure. The representative estates were suppressed, and the
provincial funds seized. No less than eight new and oppressive taxes
were imposed, and levied with the utmost rigor; the very name of the
country, as I said before, was abolished; and, after the model of
revolutionary France, the Tyrol was divided into the departments of
the Inn, the Adige, and the Eisach; the passion plays, which formed
so large a part of the amusements of our people, were prohibited;
all pilgrimages to chapels or places of extraordinary sanctity were
forbidden. The convents and monasteries were confiscated, and their
estates sold; the church plate and holy vessels were melted down and
disposed of; the royal property was all brought into the market. New
imposts were daily exacted without any consultation with the estates



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