"The good old plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can;" --in other words, that the Bavarians should take Berg Isel if they could dislodge the Tyrolese, and that the Tyrolese should not only keep their own, but drive their enemies completely off the field and make themselves masters of the bridges and approaches to Innsbruck. No capital blunder seems to have been committed on either side. For several hours, the struggle raged with fury. The bridge of the Sill was contested with great bravery by both sides; but at length the Bavarians gave way, and were to be seen flying in every direction. The Tyrolese only had fifty killed and a hundred and thirty-two wounded. The Bavarians estimated their own loss at five thousand; and seventeen hundred wounded fell into the hands of their victors. In a few days the enemy had quitted the country, committing every excess as they retreated. On the 15th of August, Hofer, having a third time delivered his country, made his triumphal entry into Innsbruck. His wife and children were in a balcony to watch his entry. The old streets echoed with the continuous tramp of thousands of feet, and the merry peals of church bells were drowned in the shouts. He looked grave, not elated, and directed his steps, as before, to the Imperial Church; where, just before he crossed the threshold, the multitude renewed their acclamations. He lifted up his hand and finger in admonitory action. "Hist! Now, prayer; not shouting.--One above--" These simple words were heard by all. After the service, he proceeded to the Imperial Palace, which thenceforth became his home while he remained in Innsbruck. Here, his family, terrified and elated, clustered round him. He embraced them with emotion, then quitted them and went out on the balcony, to address the crowd below. And thus, in simple phrase, he spoke-- "Now, God salute you all, my beloved Innsbruckers! Because you would have me, whether or no, your Obercommandant, so am I bound to you. But there are some here who are no Innsbruckers. All that will be my weapon-brothers, must be ready to fight for God, for our emperor, and our fatherland, like brave and honest Tyrolese. Those who will not do that, should rather go directly home. My real weapon-brothers will not forsake me; neither will I forsake you, so true as I am called Andreas Hofer. Now I have spoken to you--you have spoken to me: so God preserve you all." For the multitude, according to their wont, were so fond of hearing their own sweet voices, that even these few sentences had been frequently interrupted by-- "Save you, Hofer! Hurrah!--We're all true weapon-brothers. And those that are not shall be ducked in the Inn. Long live the Emperor. Hofer for ever. Hurrah!"