My adventures during the late war

by Donat Henchy O'Brien

All matters having been deliberately weighed and considered, we resolved to take our abode in a public-house, at a little distance on the roadside; and this, we trusted, would be our last night in Bavaria. We accordingly entered it, and found several decent people. I made our host understand that our comrade had been taken suddenly ill, that I wished to get him to bed as soon as we could, and that we preferred remaining with him to going into town, as it was then late. He politely told us we should be instantly accommodated.

At about half-past eight we were shown to bed, and were in great spirits. The next morning would decide our destiny, and we were very sanguine. We knew it was necessary to be cautious also in Austria, but considered that the great point would be attained when we should be out of the power of the Confederation of the Rhine. I confess I sometimes thought how unfortunate we should be if arrested in the vicinity of the last Bavarian town, and again conducted back to the horrible Mansion of Tears. I frankly declare, I would have preferred death as the alternative.

At the dawn of day on the 17th of October we rose, ordered a cup of coffee each, and pushed forward with great circumspection for the town of Reichenhall, and saw very few people moving. Everything, we imagined, favoured us; but the next moment we discovered a bridge, which we inevitably must pass; at the end of it was a turnpike and the Bavarian colours, blue and white, which we were tolerably well acquainted with. There were two men who appeared at a short distance from the turnpike. We were on the bridge. The two men entered a house close to the turnpike. We advanced rapidly. Supposing it to be a most favourable opportunity, we passed the turnpike very fortunately, and turned short round to the right, which led us directly as we wished, and also clear of the town. We then passed another barrier, where there was not a house to be seen, and being so near to that we just passed, we conjectured that both were superintended by the same people.

Having anticipated all aggravations of difficulties as we approached the frontier, we were overjoyed at finding the system of police not so strict as we expected: we now considered ourselves safe. We advanced a mile, and thought ourselves in the Austrian territories. Our happiness was inconceivable. Our dangers, we thought, were over, and we were now in a country which, though not in alliance with England, had been subsidised on former occasions to the extent of so many millions by her, and had so common a cause with us in putting down the general enemy. We felt almost as if we were at home. So secure were we that we began to be less attentive to dangers of any sort.

The road became excessively heavy; and, although I had passed through by far worse roads under more difficult circumstances, my prospects of triumph made me fastidious or sportive. A cut, or pathway, appeared to lead through fields in one direction, and I chose to take it, as I thought it would shorten our distance, while Hewson pursued the high-road in preference. On looking back, I found that Barklimore was following my steps a good way behind, though in a short time I entirely lost sight of Hewson. I had made an obtuse angle, and saved some distance, and I soon got into the road again; but, to my great uneasiness, in vain did I look for my friend. I conjectured that, although he had the longest route, he must have walked so very fast as to more than make up for the difference; and that, consequently, he was ahead of me. Presently, to my great astonishment and utter dismay, I made the woeful discovery that we were still in the Bavarian territories; for I perceived close to me a turnpike, with the adjacent house bearing the Bavarian arms. Fortunately, the door was shut, and I passed it with a palpitating heart, thanking Heaven for my hair-breadth escape. I then quickened my pace; and, looking back with great anxiety, to my unspeakable joy I found that Barklimore had passed with equal success.

I now became exceedingly alarmed for the safety of our friend Hewson, and concluded that, under the idea that he was in the Austrian dominions, he might have incautiously approached the barrier we had just escaped, and have been captured. I stopped to wait Barklimore’s coming up, that we might counsel what was best to be done. In the midst of our perplexity and distress, to my unspeakable joy I perceived Hewson a long way ahead of us, and making towards us with precipitation. How he could have got so far in advance was to me inexplicable. I hastened towards him, and expressed my astonishment at his separating from us at such a critical moment. He briefly retaliated, and said, that as we had cut off such a large angle by crossing the fields, he naturally concluded that we were further advanced than himself. But there was no time to be lost in recriminations; for our danger was extreme. Hewson, with much trepidation, told us that we were still on Bavarian ground, and that a short way in advance he had come to the line of demarcation between the two countries, and at the nearest point of which there was a barrier, with a guard; and he added, “The Austrian officer had stopped me, and demanded my passport. With all the presence of mind I could assume,” said Hewson, “I told him that my companions, who were following me, had all our papers, and he desired me to wait until you arrived, but I contrived to elude his vigilance, and have hastened to acquaint you with our danger.”

We received this woeful intelligence with pallid faces and knit brows, but our alarm was increased when Hewson continued, “I met the wife of the man who looks out at yon Bavarian gate, or turnpike, and she asked me if I had shown my passport and papers to her husband; of course I answered that I had.”

Here, then, we were in as desperate a situation as any we had ever been in. Never had we had to contend with dangers more numerous or extreme. It appeared but too evident to us, that, when the woman told her husband of what Hewson had stated to her, a pursuit of us would be commenced, and a hue and cry raised for our apprehension. If the Austrian officer had refused to let Hewson pass without a passport when he was unsuspected, it was evident that he would not let us go through when the Bavarian soldiers were in chase of us. It was hopeless to go directly to the Austrian guard, confess who and what we were, and surrender ourselves as prisoners, on the confidence of the amity which had formerly existed between England and Austria, and of the good feelings which the Austrians ought to entertain towards the English. Whichever way we turned, new difficulties presented themselves, and we were distracted with the thought of being taken after having overcome so many dangers, travelled so many hundred miles, and arrived at a point at which even a few yards over an imaginary line of separation might save us.

I instantly proposed that we should try to elude and pass the Austrian guard by avoiding the barrier, and crossing the boundary how we could, at any other point; and then, if we were taken, our last resource would be to claim the protection of the Austrian officer, as English subjects, and formerly, though not now, the allies of the emperor. At any risk, even at the cost of our lives, we were to avoid falling into the hands of the Bavarians, for then our inevitable fate would be a journey in chains back to the Mansion of Tears, a trial at Metz, and a sentence to the galleys.

Not a moment was lost. I surveyed the country, and espied a narrow pathway that led into a thick wood at the foot of an immense mountain. Into this by-path we immediately struck, and proceeded as rapidly as the nature of the track would admit of our using our legs. We expected to be pursued by the Austrian troops; and our only hope was to get so far into their territory, that, when captured, they would not think of returning us to the dreaded Bavarians.