Vampyre' and Other Writings

by Polidori, John William; Bishop, Franklin Charles;

  Unfortunately, the slaughter by the enemy’s sword was not the only horror that attended the dispersion of our troops. The peasants and soldiers never, in their legendary tales, having heard of a defeat accompanied by a retreat, on their native soil, imputed the whole to the treachery of their officers. The French had from the very beginning spread papers to this purport amongst them. As we proceeded, we therefore found the bodies of many of their officers hacked to pieces by the infuriate stragglers. Upon our arrival at Musingen, we found General d’Erlach in the hands of some of these men, who had determined to convey him to Berne. With him was his wife, who had accompanied him in his flight, and a young officer, whom I had remarked earnestly engaged in looking at my scarf, at the moment I was receiving the general’s thanks at Grauholtz. I remonstrated with the soldiers, but in vain. I gradually, however, contrived to approach the general, and, when I thought myself sufficiently near to shield him, drawing my sword, I called upon the Beatenbergers to assist me, and instantly attacked them. The young officer, possessing himself in the struggle of a sword, was soon by my side. The peasants joined us; we drove the soldiers through the village; but in the meanwhile some stragglers issued from the houses, and striking the defenceless old man with their hatchets, left him for dead in the arms of his wife. When I returned, I found him apparently reviving through her care; it was only for a moment, he could not speak; it appeared, however, as if he recognised me, for he pressed my hand, and turned his closing eyes, first on his wife, then towards me. Thinking he recommended her to my care, I promised that I would protect her to the utmost of my power; his eye glistened, and he expired.

  At this moment I again heard the cries of the soldiers. As there was an unfrequented path over the mountains from this place towards Hoestetten, whence the young officer might easily get to Lucerne, I advised him to pursue it, and get immediately out of the canton of Berne. We parted. Gathering my peasants together, I directly set off with Madame Erlach in the cart towards Thun. She did not shriek or weep, she seemed stupified by the greatness of her loss, and, when arrived at the city, she without difficulty allowed herself to be taken from the body, and to be conveyed in a boat to Berchtold’s, whence she retired in a short time to complete solitude, where she saw no one, and soon after died.

  I cannot paint to you the joy of Berchtold when he once more held me within his arms. My sister’s tears flowed now as profusely as at our parting, but from a different cause. I had only been away a few days, yet the crowded events that took place in that short period made it appear as many weeks. The first spot I sought with my sister was my mother’s grave. There I sat with her silently engaged in thought; after some time we began to converse, and as I had nothing hidden from her, I soon told the whole of my history from the morning of that day on which I had seen the unknown. She seemed disturbed, and upon my pressing her to explain to me what passed in her breast, she advised me to beware, for that it was probably one of the spirits of the Jungfrau’s eternal frosts that had accosted me. I laughed at what I deemed her folly; but I soon perceived that there was something more on her mind than she was willing to confess. In vain I besought her to disclose it to me; she told me she durst not, and asked me as a favour not to speak to her any more on this subject. Alarmed, I knew not why, I looked at her with earnest attention. She could no longer bear it, but throwing herself into my arms, informed me that while I was away she had seen our mother, who had appeared to her, arrayed in mourning, announcing, that I was in the greatest danger, and that she must guard me, but that unless she wished to share my peril, she must conceal it from me. ‘Ernestus,’ my sister said, ‘I cannot obey, let your fate be mine, and I am content.’ Saying this, she again pressed me to her bosom, and wept. I was moved, I sat down by her side; bound in each other’s arms, we gazed upon the green sod in silence, unwilling to disturb those thoughts which we knew must be the same in the breasts of both.

  Anxious to learn some tidings concerning the fate of my native country, I went every day to Thun. My indignation was excited by the recital of the cruelties and extortions of the French, and, when they dared to attempt disarming the inhabitants, determined not to submit to so base an insult, I was proscribed, and sought refuge amongst those mountains which had been the scenes of my prowess in the chase. I went and sat whole days by the rocks in the Wengern Alp, where I first saw that form which has since engrossed the whole of my thoughts. I made enquiries at Lauterbrunnen concerning the two strangers, but ineffectually; they had merely been there as other travellers, to view the sublime scenery of the mountains, and had not been heard of since. I remained a whole month amidst these rocks, only going to Beatenberg at night, when Berchtold and my sister would receive me, and supplying me with provisions for the ensuing days, tell me of all the insults that added to the shame of Switzerland. But at last they showed me the proclamation of Schwarenberg against the six eastern cantons. I immediately announced my determination to join them. Berchtold said nothing; my sister followed me out of the house, and begged to be permitted to accompany me. I refused, and upon her reminding me of her dream, told her, that, as it promised she should share my peril, it would prove impossible for me to go into any real danger without her, that therefore she need not follow me, or, if the fates decreed it, we should meet at that moment without any endeavours on our part to assist their fiat. I painted to her the horrors of the exterminating warfare that was carried on, and asserted that it was most likely not the peril of the sword in which she was to partake. In short, I forced her to promise me not to follow, by representing to her the misery Berchtold would undergo, if at once deprived of both of his adopted children. I led her back to the door, and left her in his arms.

  It is useless for me to give you an account of this campaign. It is recorded in history with even all the unsuccessful struggles for liberty, as one of those gleamings of that noble spirit in men, which, though generally hidden under the pressure of vice and corruption, at times bursts forth like the volcano’s fire. I was taken prisoner, and could find no means of escaping, till the French, towards the end of June, after the restoration of Rapinat, became more lenient in their treatment of their prisoners, and less careful in their watch over them. I once more joined the Underwalders, and was again witness to the defeat of my countrymen. I met the young officer I had saved from slaughter at Musingen. His name was Olivieri. We had no time for intercourse, always in action or on the march, we only saw one another in the field, where we often joined and tried to vie with each other in acts of daring and courage. We became at last noted in the army, and though only volunteers, we each soon found ourselves at the head of about ninety men, who always were ready to obey our commands.

  In the midst of our struggles in the Underwald, intelligence reached us of an insurrection having taken place in the upper Valais; it was deemed necessary by the leaders of our army to send them assistance, and thus cause a diversion in our favour. They proposed that one hundred men should be given to each of us, and that with this force we should be sent to aid the Valisians in their attempt. It was a hazardous undertaking, we had to cross upon the flanks of the enemy, and should be obliged, it was supposed, to pass through the Grimsel, which was in the possession of the French. When it was proposed, no one was found to volunteer; no Underwalder would leave his home in the hour of danger. I had however remarked a number of Schweitzers, who had joined us singly, having left their dwellings, though not countenanced by their countrymen who were ranged on the other side, to partake in the dangers of the patriotic Underwalders. To these men we applied, and in a short time, two hundred men were selected. We kept almost upon the summit of the high ridge that joins the Furca from the Lake of Lucerne, and crossing the glaciers by rocks, that even in the chase of the chamois would have startled me, we arrived at Realp, and soon crossed into the Valais. At Obergesteln we learnt that some French troops had that very night crossed from the Grimsel, while the whole body of peasants were engaged in the lower part of the valley, amidst the fastnesses atte
mpting to stop that force which was advancing by the bridge of Hochflue. They had committed great outrages, and had caused those, who were able, to fly behind the glaciers of the Rhone.

  Our undertaking now seemed desperate. The number of the French in the rear of our allies was greater than ours, and the end of the Valais through which we were to advance was flat and open, without any shelter, surrounded by steep mountains. Olivieri was however before me, we had each one hundred chosen men, and he seemed resolved on advancing. Not knowing how to procure intelligence of the enemy, I immediately offered to advance by myself and reconnoitre. As I well knew every part of this valley, I was certainly the fittest person in our body for such an undertaking; but my companion would not hear of ceding the post of danger to me; we were obliged to draw lots, and it fell upon him, and he departed.

  In the mean time the women, hearing of our arrival, came from their fastnesses, and joined us. They seized upon every thing which offered the semblance of a weapon, and resolved to follow us. As my companion did not return as soon as I expected, fearful of a surprise, I determined to advance, and, if possible, gain some of the passes before the enemy knew of our arrival. I, however, previously sent forward a young woman, to see if she could obtain any intelligence of Olivieri. I then ordered the men to follow in silence, and marching all the evening, we at last, towards night, reached the village of Blizingen, where the valley straightens, and becomes more inclosed and rocky. The river here runs through a deeply-cut channel, more resembling a ravine, than a common bed. As I knew there was but one path, and that very steep and dangerous, I ordered my men to rest upon their arms, while I went along the river’s channel to learn something concerning the enemy, who I thought could not have advanced much farther. At last, being arrived opposite the village of Vietsch, I heard a great noise, and saw many lights; making no doubt but that these proceeded from the point where the enemy was stationed, I returned. I found my men asleep; arousing them I ascended at their head the steep sides of the mountain, and making them march parallel with the path, but much higher, I brought them above the village, and hid them in a wood of pines that stretches along the steep. I now no longer feared the superior numbers of the enemy, the ascent was so precipitous that we could not be attacked, except to great disadvantage, while we could either join the Valisians, or fall upon the foe with every prospect of victory.

  I determined once more to go and discover their exact position, giving the word that if I thought it a fit moment for an attack, I would fire my gun, and then sound my hunting horn, so that no mistake could occur from the firing of any drunken soldiers or guard. Wrapt up in my mantle I descended from the wood, and found the men lying securely asleep in the road between the houses. They were certainly all there; anxious to know something concerning my companion, I resolved, in spite of the risk, to awaken some straggler, and learn from him if any prisoner was amongst them. I accordingly approached one who, stretched along the edge of a precipice over the river, was sunk in a sleep that seemed that of the innocent. Putting my pistol to his breast, I awoke him. Alarmed, he was upon the point of calling out, when I threatened him with instant death. To my inquiries he answered, that a person had been surprised by some stragglers in the course of the day, and he added that he was then lying bound in a cottage in the very centre of the village, destined to be in the morning a butt for their muskets. It did not appear that his having been found armed had excited suspicion, as he was taken for a common peasant. Determined to save Olivieri, I knew not what to do with this sleeper, to shoot him would alarm the enemy, they might immediately dispatch my friend, and yet I could not leave this man to raise his comrades. I pushed him down the precipice, and directly entered the village. All were asleep, I found the cottage, there was a light in the window. I stole close to it, wrapping myself up in my mantle. I looked in; you may imagine my alarm when I saw two soldiers awake in conversation, while my friend, upon his back, was bound to a bench fastened to the floor. There were several soldiers at my feet, with their arms by their sides, a sudden thought struck me, I seized one of their guns and firing it, I instantly retreated to the other side of the cottage, where I had remarked a window close to the fatal bench. As I expected, the two soldiers went out to inquire about the report which they had heard; I took advantage of the few moments, leapt into the room by the window, roused Olivieri, who gazed upon me expecting death; I made a sign for silence, cut his bonds, and was again out of the cottage with my companion, when I heard the door open to admit the two soldiers. We hastened up the ascent, and when, amidst the rocks I fired my own fowling piece, and blew a national air upon my horn. Before the enemy, alarmed by the two soldiers, who missed their prisoner, could form, we were amongst them, and morn had hardly dawned before we had cut to pieces the whole of this detachment. I could have induced the men to give quarter, but the women were outrageous, they followed our soldiers, and dispatched the wounded, whom their more merciful companions had spared, while they excited the Schweitzers to slaughter even those who threw up their arms; none were saved. The Valisians who were making head against this body, hearing the report of so many guns, did not know what to believe; they however approached, and when they heard the Swiss war cry of liberty, they immediately joined us. Their joy cannot be expressed by words; Olivieri and myself had in the mean time met, and his thanks were profuse; but what was my sorrow to find that the young woman had been seized and bayoneted in cold blood, because she would not acknowledge the right of the French to a superiority over her nation; she had pretended not to know my companion, and thus avoided betraying us, by not being confronted with him.

  We had gained a victory, but it only served to delay the subjection of this noble peasantry; they were obliged to come at last to a capitulation. We could not be included in it; the French asserted that the Schweitzers were deserters. We therefore determined to attempt once more a passage over the most unfrequented Alps. To avoid the Grimsel, where the French might pass to interrupt our passage, we crossed at once into the valley of Formazza. Hidden in the day amidst the woods, or upon the tops of precipices, my few companions, for our numbers had been greatly diminished, journeyed in the night by a circuitous route into the Vadi Bedretto, and thence over the St Gothard by the path we had come, towards the valley of Stantz. We had there expected to find our former companions yet struggling for life, if not for victory. We entered the valley, there was no living creature to be found, there was a silence unbroken by any sound of human labour, the hoarse ravens fluttered above us, as if they thought we also came to spread their banquet. We could find no one to guide us, no one even to tell us of our misfortune. Our imaginations pictured sufficient. The villages were burnt, the cattle lay slaughtered on the field, it seemed as if death, with one sweep of his scythe, had cut off the life of all. Creeping along the sides of the mountains, we approached Stantz, we expected to find the destroyers there; but when we were in sight, there was no town appearing. We found but sixteen straggling houses yet standing, all the rest were burnt; these also bore the Frenchmen’s mark, they were billetted. We looked at one another in silence. The birds of prey were not disturbed by our presence, they continued feeding on the dead. While walking amidst these ruins, I at last heard the sound of a voice, it was the cry of sorrow. A mother had found words to call on Heaven for strength to bear her individual grief, heedless of her country’s death. I saw her amidst these ruins, her hands were tearing up the soil to give the last refuge her country could afford to her child, – a grave. She did not at first perceive me, when she did, her hand worked doubly quick, while, with her eyes fixed upon the corpse, her hurried lips uttered, ‘Hold your hand, hold your hand for a moment, I shall soon be ready to follow.’ I dug her son’s grave, and left her striking the sod as if she repented of having resigned the body to the earth.

  We assembled our few remaining companions, Olivieri and myself addressed them, we advised them to separate and seek singly a refuge in their homes. While yet speaking one of them brought before us a ma
n, who seemed to have risen from the grave. His grey locks, thinly scattered on his head, were entangled, his eyes were sunk so deep within their sockets, that their lustre seemed the last glimmering of life before it sinks. He had sought death from the foes, and they, in mockery, had bade him live. They had fastened him to a table in the open air, with several days’ provision within his reach, and had placed before his sight the corpses of his aged wife, his children, and grandchildren, all marked with the wanton infliction of their barbarous cruelty, not even excelled by the voracity of the vulture or beasts of prey. This wretched being told us that the Schweitzers had troops placed the whole length of the other side of the lake, to hinder the fugitives from this valley escaping. Upon this intelligence our men became dejected; the thoughts of dying ingloriously by the hands of their treacherous countrymen, weighed upon their mind. They spoke some time amongst themselves, and then begged of us not to desert them, assuring us that if we enabled them to reach the upper part of Schweitz unbroken, they then could disperse to their families without danger. We could not refuse them. We ordered them to go along the shore, and see if they could find any boats; they soon got together more than enough to convey us over. But they had been observed by an individual, who had immediately put off in his skiff, and crossed to the other side. This rendered greater caution necessary, as he would undoubtedly inform the enemy of our neighbourhood. We offered to take the old man with us; he refused; determined, not even in ruin, to desert those spots which had seen his birth, and infancy, and manhood, he returned to the bodies of his children, threw himself upon them, apparently resolved to breathe his last sigh in defending these mangled remnants from further insult: all that we could do was to lay a fresh stock of provisions by his side.