WHAT a horrible place is Halle! Enveloped in a dense atmosphere of smoke, the sunbeams vainly endeavour to pour more than a sombre light into the sooty streets, in which houses, people, and everything else, have, unavoidably, an air of griminess inseparable from a large manufacturing town; and the amusing spectacle is too often seen of some honest fellow walking along in the mistaken belief of having a clean face, while, all the time, a black has settled on his nose.

It was towards the close of the merry month of May. The struggle at Berg Isel had taken place on the 26th, and on the following day a man was to be seen rapidly skirting the mountains that bound Halle to the north, along the edge of a ravine, in the depths of which brawled an impetuous torrent. His green coat and red sash might have been those of any Tyrolese; but his dark beard showed him to be no other than Hofer.

He stepped out, mile after mile, along the steep path towards the famous salt-mines. Huge masses of rock, hanging over his head, seemed suspended by little short of a miracle; dark pine-forests clothed the rugged cliffs, cascades dashed from innumerable heights, some close by the path, others heard thundering above; the foaming torrent was here and there spanned by bridges of snow, while huge, unmelted avalanches lay in its bed.

As Hofer proceeded, he came up with a tall, dark, athletic man, going towards the mines. When he got close to him, he grasped his shoulder. The man started, turned round, and joyfully embraced him.

"Praised be the name of our Lord!" said he.

"Amen, and Amen!" said Hofer, raising his hat. "Brother, what a dance you have led me! They told me in Halle you had just delivered a load of wood, and I should find you here. But what? can you spare leisure to carry wood in these times?"

"A contract must be fulfilled," said Speckbacher. "I contracted, before the war broke out, to supply the works with a certain quantity of wood in a certain time. This has been my last journey, I am happy to say—my man Zoppel will drive the oxen after to-day, and the contract expires within a week."

"That is well, for there is plenty for you to do. We expect to make head against the enemy to-morrow, and you must join us with the men of the lower Innthal."

"Surely. Where are we to march?"

"On Innsbruck."

"Capital! Teimer joins us, of course?"

"With the men of the upper Inn. I shall occupy Mount Brenner, ready to drop down on the city. The regulars, under General Buol, will be higher up. Father Joachim will head the peasants on Berg Isel."

"Come, we ought to succeed this time. I hope we shall not only take the city, but keep it better than we did before. Father Joachim has sent me an amulet, to keep me from harm. Do you think there's anything in it?"

"Well—what know I? This I know—the Lord of hosts has protected you and me, my friend, through many dangers, thus far, without e'er an amulet; so I hope He will continue to do so henceforth."

"Well—yes. Maria wished me to wear it, so I thought it would do no harm—it makes her easy, you know."

"There's something that would make me easy, my brother, if you will yield to me—let us seek the blessing of God in prayer."

"Certainly, if you wish it."

They were just in front of a rude cross, sculptured on the face of the rock. The two men knelt, and fervently prayed aloud, each in turn, for some minutes. Hofer rose, looking comforted.

"I'm all the better for that," said Speckbacher, heartily.

"How can it be otherwise, brother? God has bidden us cast our care upon Him; it is our own fault if we do it not."

They proceeded on their way.

"I wonder if Chastelar ever kneels down and prays as we have just done," said Speckbacher presently.

"There's no saying, brother; I should hope he does. There seems to me to be little praying in camps. Men touch their hats as they pass a picture or a crucifix—that is pretty nearly all; outwardly, at least, which is all we can judge from. But sure I am, that those who prayed often—from the heart, look you,—would not take God's holy name in vain."

"How the French curse and swear, Hofer! and yet they say, many of them, there's no God. They laugh at us for praying for success, because they say they have it without."

"Pity, brother, they have not something better to laugh about. Ah, God does give his foes success sometimes, and deprive his children of it; but not because He does not hear and answer prayer. He never permits their success, and our defeat, save for our good. Why now, has He not said He will try us seven times in the fire? First, may be, He tests our courage; well, we prove to have it: then our love; well, we have some, though it were to be wished we had more. Then, our faith; very little is found. Into the fire we must go. By and by, our unfaithfulness is somewhat purged away. Well, but then, may be, he tries our submission; finds it very poor. Into the fire with us! After that, our patience. Oh, perhaps a great, thick scum boils up to the top of the pot, and shows how far from perfection we are yet. Instead of setting us aside to cool, he stirs up the fire hotter and hotter, never minding our boiling and bubbling, so long as we don't boil over. Well, supposing fused metal had the feelings of a man, just fancy its state! At last the scum parts! the pure, bright silver appears!—he stoops over it, sees in it his own face,—takes us to heaven!"

"Oh me! I don't believe I could stand all that!" cried Speckbacher, turning pale. "You might, but I couldn't!"

"God only knows our hearts," replied the Sandwirth. "You and I may lie stark and stiff before another night; but what then? we shall be with Him."

"May it please Him, we shall," said Speckbacher, devoutly crossing himself.

"Sandwirth," cried he, after a pause, "what a life mine has been! Oh, when I think of the sins of my youth, I see what a long, long chain must be let down from heaven, to draw me up to it! What could you expect from me, poor little orphan as I was at seven years old, but that I should go astray like a youngling of the flock, whose mother has fallen over the cliff? My relations were severe: I had no happiness in the house: so I sought it out of it. Evil companions fell in my way, and tried to make me as wicked as themselves. They feared no God; what wonder they feared no man? We robbed, we gamed, we drank; we sang, told jolly tales, and made merry; but I never was happy.

"One day we were on a predatory expedition. I had separated a little from the rest, when I heard an inexpressibly mournful cry; it seemed to say, 'Oh, woe, woe, woe!' I stood fixed to the spot; my blood ran cold: at length I hurried on to join my comrades, and begged them to turn back to hearken to a cry of distress in the wood. They treated it with indifference, and said we must push on, there was no time to lose. I, however, lingered; then turned back. Following the sound, which became more and more lamentable, I suddenly almost toppled over the edge of a tremendous cliff, seven hundred feet high! It took me so by surprise that I shrank back, appalled and breathless. Half way down hung a miserable man, one of our company whom we had not missed, whose clothes, as he fell, had been caught by some projection in the rock, and who was nearly doubled in half, his head towards his toes, with horrible death beneath him. I shouted, 'Don't fear! I'll run for aid!' and did so, without knowing whether he heard me or not. But when, after a long run, I came in sight of my comrades, they were in the hands of justice, and I was the only one that escaped. I flew back to the edge of the cliff. The poor wretch's slight support had given way, and he lay, a mangled mass of bones and blood, at the bottom. When I came to myself,—oh, Hofer, can you wonder I was another man?"

Speckbacher's feelings here so overcame him that he leant against the rock a moment for support.

"Doubtless the hand of the Lord was in the event, brother," said Hofer. "To the one He showed judgment, to the other mercy."

"Mercy? Yes, what mercy! He drew me into the way of the Schmeiders, a family of piety and of love. Soon I felt their softening influence; at length I became their inmate. The old man had known my father; he interested himself in getting me employed in supplying wood to the salt-works. After a time, he saw a growing affection between Maria and me: he did not discourage it; he told me I should marry her. I told him how bad I had been; he would not recall his promise, but fixed a time, and said that if I continued steady till then, we should be united. And so we were. Ah! God be praised!"

Some men, coming from the mines, here approached and passed them, which changed the subject of conversation.

"Has General Chastelar forgiven the men of Halle for drubbing him yet?" said Speckbacher.

"Why, he cannot be expected to forget it very readily," said Hofer. "It was a bad business, and did them no credit, I think. The poor general had had his turn of ill luck, and could hardly have been better pleased at his defeat than we were; but did that authorize a set of angry fellows to waylay him with cudgels, and thump him so that he was obliged to keep his bed two days? No, no, I say."

"I can't help laughing at it, though," said Speckbacher; "it was taking the law so into their own hands. His ardour for us was already beginning to cool; and, for my part, I think he has done us very little good, from first to last. But here we are. I was on my way to the superintendent; but you have never seen the mines: would not you like to do so?"

"Very much."

"Come this way, then—I will find you a miner's overcoat and staff. They will give us flambeaux."

Hofer presently found himself descending the noted three hundred steps, with considerable excitement, and a little trepidation. He seemed entering a new world, the withdrawal of daylight from which gave it something inexpressibly dismal. The interminable galleries and caverns, the unfathomed lakes, the dim lights, the hollow, unearthly sounds, sensibly affected his imagination; and when they now and then came up to a solitary miner, with his little candle, constantly striking his axe into the wall before him, a profound feeling of pity towards him oppressed his kind heart.

"It is wonderful! truly wonderful!" ejaculated he, as they once more emerged into the warm sunlight; "but I am very glad to find myself out of it. I could not help thinking of poor wretches in the bottomless pit."

"Hofer! when you were comparing the true believer, just now, to metal molten over the fire, I could not help thinking that their foes are like the crackling sticks in that fire, that help to heat the silver. They are unintelligent agents; they make a great blaze, and shine very bright, for a little while. How soon they become extinct!"

"Ah! I never like to think of it,—it melts me with sorrow. If the true believer has such a hard fight of it, where shall the ungodly and sinner appear? Brother, let us leave such matters to the God who made those salt caverns. I thought, before I entered them, they would afford me a good opportunity for some more talk with you about to-morrow; but when I was once within them, the God of nature made me hold my peace."

"Here is a niche, Anderl, where we can sit and talk our fill. It seems to me we shall very likely fall short of powder and bullets—what can we do?"

They sat down and arranged, as well as they could, the plans for the morrow. But they were, after all, unskilled tacticians, as far as science went: men rather of deeds than words, who felt a certain consciousness of what they themselves could do, and what they could expect from one another. However, before they parted, they had decided their own parts in what proved to be the most important struggle that occurred during the Tyrolean war.

On the morning of May 29th, both parties were prepared to try their strength—the Bavarians with all the advantages of regular training and skill; the Tyrolese armed with valour and love of their freedom and their country. Seventeen thousand peasants, badly accoutred for war, scantily provided with ammunition, and headed not by one but by several chiefs, were supported by a thousand Austrian regulars, sixty or seventy horse, and five pieces of cannon.

General Deroy opposed them with eight thousand Bavarian infantry, one thousand cavalry, and twenty-five cannon.

Hofer slept overnight at a little tavern called the Spade, a short distance from Innsbruck. He and his men began the day with a hearty meal, which some who had three or four good meals every day of their lives, afterwards called "carousing:"—and on this splendid carouse of bread, cheese, and beer, the brave men, commending their good cause to Heaven, started forth to the field. Speckbacher, however, had opened the day on the bridge of Halle, which was obstinately contested, but which he carried; and the engagement then became general. The peasantry led by Father Joachim poured down from the Iselberg, and attacked the Bavarians with fury, while Teimer fell on them from the rear.

"The Bavarians," says a writer, "had every advantage on their side, except their numbers." We may add, and except their cause. They had passed the night quietly in and about Innsbruck, had an ample supply of provisions, while the Tyrolese had only their little meal-bags; and were well armed, while many of the Tyrolese were provided with nothing better than pitchforks or scythes. Under all these circumstances, it is surprising, says the above-quoted chronicler, that the Bavarians suffered themselves to be brought to action; or that, being engaged, they should sustain a defeat. Yes, very surprising, no doubt; and equally surprising that Baron Hormayr returned no answers to Hofer's repeated and urgent missives, during several previous days, to advance to support the Tyrolese: and that when, somewhat tardily, he moved from his quarters at Landeck, he only proceeded to Imst, where he lay in bed for a sore throat. He had taken a chill.

Meantime, Speckbacher, with six hundred men, having carried the bridge, had thrice dislodged the Bavarians from the farm of Rainerhof, twice been driven out, and the third time triumphantly taken it: earning for himself from the other side the questionable title of the Fire-devil. The owners of the farm were in it all the time. A girl named Lisa, seeing Speckbacher's lips dry and parched, exclaimed, "That brave man shall not die of thirst if I can help it"—and carrying out a small cask of wine into the midst, she began to dispense its contents in a mug, first to him and then to his comrades, when a bullet struck the cask and made a small orifice near the spiggot. Thrusting her thumb into the hole, she cried, laughing, "Come, men, drink fast, or it will run out quicker than I can stop it!"

Father Joachim, flying about the field, shouting to his men and brandishing aloft his huge ebony crucifix, performed, it is said, prodigies of valour and generalship. He was humane, too, binding up wounds, whispering brief absolution into the ears of the dying; and once, at least, narrowly escaped death himself, for a Bavarian was about to run him through the body with his bayonet, when he himself was brought down by a rifle.

Hofer did not come up till some hours later, but then turned the fortune of the day. Somewhat after him arrived Martin Teimer, on the heights of Hotting; on seeing whom, the Bavarians advanced with great resolution on the Iselberg. The Austrians, under Colonel Ertel, who were somewhat dispersed, drew up in haste to receive them, supported by a large body of Tyrolese, and the Bavarians maintained the contest for some time with great gallantry; but the Tyrolese sharpshooters among the rocks thinned their ranks so formidably that their destruction would have been inevitable, had not the peasants fallen short of ammunition. An officer with a trumpet was therefore despatched to the Bavarian commander, advising him to lay down his arms; and, as he had just heard that one of his outposts had been carried by the Austrians, he conceded a suspension of hostilities for twenty-four hours, and, under cover of the night, effected a precipitate retreat, leaving the Tyrolese complete masters of the field.

"Aha," said Speckbacher, shaking his fist at some ammunition-wagons which now, rather too tardily, loomed large in the distance,—"had you come up a little sooner.... But, no matter—Innsbruck is a second time ours!"