This decision was hailed by the Tyrolese with transport. Attachment and loyalty to the house of Austria had ever been their prominent characteristics; they had been incited to rise by the Emperor himself, and had fought for him faithfully and well. Deserted by him, their independence was now at stake; and while despotism crushed the liberties of nearly all Europe, this handful of heroic mountaineers resolved to free themselves or perish. The Tyrolese flocked to Hofer's standard the instant it was raised; the Austrian troops in the Vorarlberg deserted their leaders and enthusiastically joined the insurgents. Many of the Austrian troops who had begun to march homewards, were persuaded by the Tyrolese to turn back. Nearly the whole of Taxis's corps deserted him, and quietly marched to Hofer, deaf to threats and entreaties. Hofer, who had declared himself willing to fight under Leinengen as a simple soldier if his countrymen preferred it, found himself unanimously elected Commander-in-Chief. Poor Baron Hormayr was in a pitiable state of mind; annoyed beyond measure at the armistice, yet with every feeling of a disciplinarian outraged by the extremely irregular conduct of the Tyrolese and the insubordination of his own troops. Looking upon Hofer and Speckbacher as the magicians by whom alone the storm could be quelled, he sent for the former, and earnestly, importunately besought him to think well of what he was about before he refused to lay down his arms. But Hofer was immoveable. He had deliberated in great trouble on what was right and necessary; and having besought divine direction, his conviction was now unshaken as to the duty of maintaining the cause, whether successfully or not. In his previous summons to Hormayr, he had been taken by surprise, had been very irresolute, had shifted from foot to foot, played with his pistols and sword, spoken absently, and betrayed all the marks of vacillation. He had had time to ponder and to pray; and now Hormayr might as well have tried to move Mount Brenner. As for Father Joachim, he had gone off, in a fit of desperation, to his convent at Brixen, where he shut himself up in his cell, rolled on the ground, smote himself on the breast, and tore handfuls out of his bushy red beard. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XV. THE GORGE OF THE EISACH.