hopes of getting on as far as Brenner: but the elder voiturier, who was captain of our movements, was silent, sulky, and obstinate. Endeavours to move him, only added to his sullenness.
The road in the morning presented the same disconsolate appearance: the town of Brenner is on a level, shut in by heights. We were still on the banks of the Sill, which joins the Inn, and pursues its course to the Black Sea; but with delight I saw, and with ecstacy my two companions, who had never visited Italy, hailed, a little rivulet and tiny waterfall, the Eisach, which flows south and joins the Adige; it was grasping Italy, to behold a stream that mingled its mountain-born waters with the rivers and lakes of that divine country.
We descended rapidly; and, passing across the Sterzinger Moss, a marshy flat, we again entered the mountain defiles. After passing through Mittenwald, the ravine closes still more narrowly. This was the scene of a most tremendous conflict during the Tyrolese struggle. Every stone and every crag, indeed, has its tale of victory and defeat.
I have mentioned, that after the battle of Aspern, the Tyrolese had delivered their country from the Bavarian yoke. The desire to be free caught the neighbouring provinces of Bavaria, Vorarlberg, and the northern Italian mountains, and in every part
