So sudden had been the outbreak of this war, and so little aware were the peasantry of the frontier of either its object or aim, that we frequently passed recruits for both armies on their way to headquarters on the same day—honest Bavarians, who were trudging along the road with pack on their shoulders, and not knowing, nor indeed much caring, on which side they were to combat. My French comrades scorned to report themselves to any German officer, and pushed on vigorously in the hope of meeting with a French regiment. I had now conducted my little party to Immenstadt, at the foot of the Bavarian Alps, and, having completed my compact, was about to bid them good-bye.
We were seated around our bivouac fire for the last time, as we deemed it, and pledging each other in a parting glass, when suddenly our attention was attracted to a bright red tongue of flame that suddenly darted up from one of the Alpine summits above our head. Another and another followed, till at length every mountain-peak for miles and miles away displayed a great signal-fire! Little knew we that behind that giant range of mountains, from the icy crags of the Glockner, and from the snowy summit of the Orteler itself, similar fires were summoning all Tyrol to the combat, while every valley resounded with the war-cry of ‘God and the Emperor!’ We were still in busy conjecture what all this might portend, when a small party of mounted men rode past us at a trot. They carried carbines slung over their peasant frocks, and showed unmistakably enough that they were some newly-raised and scarcely disciplined force. After proceeding about a hundred yards beyond us, they halted, and drew up across the road, unslinging their pieces as if to prepare for action.
‘Look at those fellows, yonder,’ said the old corporal, as he puffed his pipe calmly and deliberately; ‘they mean mischief, or I ‘m much mistaken. Speak to them, Tiernay; you know their jargon.’
I accordingly arose and advanced towards them, touching my hat in salute as I went forward. They did not give me much time, however, to open negotiations, for scarcely had I uttered a word, when bang went a shot close beside me; another followed; and then a whole volley was discharged, but with such haste and ill direction that not a ball struck me. Before I could take advantage of this piece of good fortune to renew my advances, a bullet whizzed by my head, and down went the left-hand horse of the file, at first on his knees, and then, with a wild plunge into the air, he fell, stone-dead, on the road, the rider beneath him. As for the rest, throwing off carbines, and cartouch-boxes, they sprang from their horses, and took to the mountains with a speed that showed how far more they were at home amidst rocks and heather than when seated on the saddle. My comrades lost no time in coming up; but while three of them kept the fugitives in sight, covering them all the time with their muskets, the others secured the cattle, as in amazement and terror they stood around the dead horse.
Although the peasant had received no other injuries than a heavy fall and his own fears inflicted, he was overcome with terror, and so certain of death that he would do nothing but mumble his prayers, totally deaf to all the efforts I made to restore his courage. ‘That comes of putting a man out of his natural bent,’ said the old corporal. ‘On his native mountains, and with his rifle, that fellow would be brave enough; but making a dragoon of him is like turning a Cossack into a foot-soldier. One thing is clear enough, we’ve no time to throw away here; these peasants will soon alarm the village in our rear, so that we had better mount and press forward.’
‘But in what direction?’ cried another; ‘who knows if we shall not be rushing into worse danger?’
‘Tiernay must look to that,’ interposed a third. ‘It’s clear he can’t leave us now; his retreat is cut off, at all events.’
‘That’s the very point I was thinking of, lads,’ said I. ‘The beacon-fires show that “the Tyrol is up”; and safely as I have journeyed hither, I know well I dare not venture to retrace my road; I ‘d be shot in the first Dorf I entered. On one condition, then, I’ll join you; and short of that, however, I’ll take my own path, come what may of it.’
‘What’s the condition, then?’ cried three or four together.
‘That you give me the full and absolute command of this party, and pledge your honour, as French soldiers, to obey me in everything, till the day we arrive at the headquarters of a French corps.’