For some two or three months the conflict went on, with varying fortunes, depending upon the conditions of the war between France and Austria.  At first the French were triumphant, and the Austrians withdrew from the Tyrol.  Then came Napoleon’s defeat at Aspern, and the Tyrolese rose and again drove the invaders from their country.  In July occurred Napoleon’s great victory at Wagram, and the hopes of the Tyrol once more sank.  All the Austrians were withdrawn, and Lefebvre again advanced at the head of thirty or forty thousand French, Bavarians, and Saxons.

The courage of the peasantry vanished before this threatening invasion.  Hofer alone remained resolute, saying to the Austrian governor, on his departure, “Well, then, I will undertake the government, and, as long as God wills, name myself Andrew Hofer, host of the Sand at Passeyr, and Count of the Tyrol.”

He needed resolution, for his fellow-chiefs deserted the cause of their country on all sides.  On his way to his home he met Speckbacher, hurrying from the country in a carriage with some Austrian officers.

“Wilt thou also desert thy country!” said Hofer to him in tones of sad reproach.

Another leader, Joachim Haspinger, a Capuchin monk, nicknamed Redbeard, a man of much military talent, withdrew to his monastery at Seeben.  Hofer was left alone of the Tyrolese leaders.  While the French advanced without opposition, he took refuge in a cavern amid the steep rocks that overhung his native vale, where he implored Heaven for aid.

The aid came.  Lefebvre, in his brutal fashion, plundered and burnt as he advanced, and published a proscription list instead of the amnesty promised.  The natural result followed.  Hofer persuaded the bold Capuchin to leave his monastery, and he, with two others, called the western Tyrol to arms.  Hofer raised the eastern Tyrol.  They soon gained a powerful associate in Speckbacher, who, conscience-stricken by Hofer’s reproach, had left the Austrians and hastened back to his country.  The invader’s cruelty had produced its natural result.  The Tyrol was once more in full revolt.

With a bunch of rosemary, the gift of their chosen maidens, in their green hats, the young men grasped their trusty rifles and hurried to the places of rendezvous.  The older men wore peacock plumes, the Hapsburg symbol.  With haste they prepared for the war.  Cannon which did good service were made from bored logs of larch wood, bound with iron rings.  Here the patriots built abatis; there they gathered heaps of stone on the edges of precipices which rose above the narrow vales and passes.  The timber slides in the mountains were changed in their course so that trees from the heights might be shot down upon the important passes and bridges.  All that could be done to give the invaders a warm welcome was prepared, and the bold peasants waited eagerly for the coming conflict.