CHAPTER XVIII. THE ARMY AND ITS BARDS. THE army of Austria without its bards, would be like a Greek tragedy without its chorus. In all times it has had the chaunters of its fame and of its chivalrous deeds in all portions of the empire. Hundreds of these still exist; and scarcely will a traveller of the present day visit a village of Dalmatia, Croatia, or any of the southern frontier lands without hearing, in the Lord only knows how many tongues and dialects, the "lays" of the heroes of modern times But these are unknown minstrels, whereas there is one whose name will go down to posterity with those he has celebrated. Zedlitz is at the present hour nearly as famous as the commanders of the Austrian army themselves; and between him and that army there exists a tie of brotherhood almost as strong as that which binds together those, who, together upon the field, have looked death in the face. Austria in our day boasts of three poets of whom any country might well be proud. Count Auersberg (known under the name of Anastasius Grün), the Baron de Zedlitz, and Stelzhammer; the two former belonging to the ranks of the aristocracy; the last forming one of that class of Austrian peasantry, ob der Enns, of whom I spoke in the commencement of this volume. Franz Stelzhammer is the Burns of Austria; nor do I give the name lightly, for I have, besides my national pride in Burns, a particularly lively admiration for his genius, which I place on an extremely high level; and yet I say, en pleine connaissance de cause-Stelzhammer is the Burns of Austria. His poems are written in the Austrian dialect, and consequently but little familiar to any one out of his own native land, where there is scarce a labourer but knows them off by heart; and with him for the moment, beyond merely noticing him, en passant, I have little or nothing to do. Anastasius Grün, is, perhaps, of the trio,* the one whose renown is best known beyond his own country; a certain little volume of his, bearing the singularly original title of "Rubbish" (Schutt), has, if I mistake not, been translated in more than one foreign language; and with his Walks of a Viennese Rambler, there are few people who are not acquainted. His last recent production, the Pfaff vom Kahlenberg, is likely to add considerably to his fame.† Zedlitz is comparatively little known out of Germany, *It was a quartett before reason fled from Lenau. His style was a very different one from any of the others, and he was far from being so praiseworthy as to the sentiments which inspired him, but his talent was very great, and his destiny very deplorable. * This Priest, or "Pfaff," of the Kahlenberg, was the Friar Tuck, of Austria. He lived in the times of Duke Otho the Cheerful VOL. II. BB where, within the last two years, his celebrity has become universal. He resembles no poet that I know of, unless it may be Campbell in his "Hohenlinden," which stands quite apart, and alone in the midst of his other works. Zedlitz was already distinguished as a poet for several of his earlier compositions, as for instance his "Wood Nymph" (Das Waldfräulein) for his Todtenkränze, and for his Altnordischen Bilder which he has just re-published, but not until the events of the year 1848, did he discover the peculiar style which was to give such extraordinary lustre to his name, and make of him, in his way, something quite unparalleled. When the deeds of the Austrian army first began to inspire him, commenced for Zedlitz the real æra of his literary fame, and when, after reading his former productions, you turn to those published within the last two years, you feel that till then he has been in a kind of uncertainty. To use the French expression, than which none can be more just, il se cherchait. He was seeking for himself-seeking for the element of that excellence which he instinctively felt to reside within him. With the first coup de canon in Italy, he found what he had sought for until then, and with the bright gleaming glory that burst forth over Austria's arms, burst forth also the poetic flame in his breast, who was to sing the deeds of her sons. To him was reserved the honour of forestalling history, and singing, in inspired tones, what her calmer muse will whose castle was on the heights of the Kahlenberg, near Vienna, and Wigand, the pastor, and Otho, the Duke, were right good friends. This said Wigand has gone down to posterity under the name of the Pfaff vom Kahlenberg, and is exceedingly dear to the memory of the Viennese as a most "jolly good fellow." tell; in some instances even he may be said to have helped to excite the enthusiasm of the troops; for after his first series of "Soldier-Songs" had appeared in the spring of '49, there were few of those who fought under the banner of the double eagle in Hungary, who were not fired with the desire to outdo, if possible, the deeds of their comrades of the Piedmontese campaign. In this respect, the poems of Zedlitz may be looked upon as representing the Barditum alluded to by Tacitus: "Sunt illis hæc quoque carmina, quorum relatu, quem Barditum vocant, accendunt animos, futuræque pugnæ fortunam ipso cantu augurantur." One of the most famous pieces of the first collection of the "Soldaten Büchlein," is the one entitled "Volta." It had its origin in the following circumstance:-On the evening of the 26th of July, '48, the brigade de Savoie attacked the town of Volta, situated on the summit of a very steep hill, and defended by the Imperialists. The town was taken, all except the church, wherein had sought refuge some three or four hundred Austrians, resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible. Cannon was in the act of being directed against the church doors, when the cry was raised that the enemy were storming the town, at the heels of the Piedmontese, and the latter made a hasty retreat. The Marshal watched impatiently for the troops, he had detached for that purpose, to appear on the heights of Volta, and despatched an officier d'ordonnance to see why they tarried so long. At the foot of the eminence they were found, falling and fainting from the scorching heat; and it was evident to the officer that they had no force left to mount the hill. "I will tell the Marshal fresh troops must be sent," said he, perceiving their condition, "for Volta must be immediately taken." These words acted like an electric spark. The fainting, worn-out men sprang to their feet with superhuman energy; and a grenadier, who could scarcely stand, exclaimed: "Fresh troops! Oh, no. If Volta must be taken, tell the Marshal from us, that we alone will take it. Not only will we mount the height, but we will storm the town." And so they did; and in the following verses, Zedlitz has told the tale: † "Who are they who gather o'er the brow Of yonder hill? See where They stand-to the right, near Volta-but now, Our brave 'Franz Karl stood there !‡ Unless my sense deceives me quite, Up yonder the Blues I see, Where till now were the mantles snowy white *The Austrian Grenadiers have been in all times renowned. The Great Frederic, speaking of them to an Austrian General, said: How I like your Grenadiers! If the god Mars wanted a bodyguard for his own person, I would advise him to take them without choosing." Hackländer, describing the battle of Novara, says: At half-past six o'clock, four thousand Grenadiers came up. As the Marshal saw them he smiled, for he has an extraordinary affection for his Grenadiers. The men came on resolutely, and the Marshal well knew that if his Grenadiers took any part in the work, the whole would not last long." + I am perfectly well aware that in so unskilful a translation as mine, half the merit of these beautiful little poems will be lost; but still, I risk the injuring their beauty in a degree, sooner than letting the foreign reader remain ignorant of them altogether. The 51st foot regiment, named after the Archduke, Franz Karl. |