NORTH TIROL--OBERINNTHAL.
INNSBRUCK TO ZIRL AND SCHARNITZ--INNSBRUCK TO THE LISENS-FERNER.
I taught the heart of the boy to revel
In tales of old greatness that never tire.
Aubrey de Vere.
Those who wish to visit the legend-homes of Tirol without any
great measure of 'roughing,' will doubtless find Innsbruck the most
convenient base of operations for many excursions of various lengths
to places which the pedestrian would take on his onward routes. Those
on the north and east, which have been already suggested from Hall
and Schwatz, may also be treated thus. It remains to mention those
to be found on the west, north-west, and south. But first there is
Mühlau, also to the east, reached by an avenue of poplars between the
right bank of the Inn and the railway; where the river is crossed by
a suspension-bridge. There are baths here which are much visited by
the Innsbruckers, and many prefer staying there to Innsbruck itself. A
pretty little new Gothic church adorns the height; the altar is bright
with marbles of the country, and has a very creditable altar-piece by a
Tirolean artist. Mühlau was celebrated in the Befreiungskämpfe through
the courage of Baroness Sternbach, its chief resident; everywhere
the patriots gathered she might have been found in their midst, fully
armed and on her bold charger, inspiring all with courage. Arrested
in her château at Mühlau during the Bavarian occupation, no threats or
insult could wring from her any admission prejudicial to the interests
of her country, or compromising to her son. She was sent to Munich,
and kept a close prisoner there, as also were Graf Sarnthein and
Baron Schneeburg, till the Peace of Vienna.
From either Mühlau or Innsbruck may be made the excursion to Frau
Hütt, a curious natural formation which by a freak of nature presents
somewhat the appearance of a gigantic petrifaction of a woman with
a child in her arms. Of it one of the most celebrated of Tirolean
traditions is told. In the time of Noe, says the legend, there was a
queen of the giants living in these mountains, and her name was Frau
Hütt. Nork makes out a seemingly rather far-fetched derivation for
it out of the wife der Behütete (i.e. the behatted, or covered one),
otherwise Odin, with the sky for his head-covering. However that may
be, the legend says Frau Hütt had a son, a young giant, who wanted
to cut down a pine tree to make a stalking-horse, but as the pine
grew on the borders of a morass, he fell with his burden into the
swamp. Covered over head and ears with mud, he came home crying to
his mother, who ordered the nurse to wipe off the mud with fine crumb
of white bread. This filled up the measure of Frau Hütt's life-long
extravagance. As the servant approached, to put the holy gift of
God to this profane use, a fearful storm came on, and the light
of heaven was veiled by angry clouds; the earth rocked with fear,
then opened a yawning mouth, and swallowed up the splendid marble
palace of Frau Hütt, and the rich gardens surrounding it. When the
sky became again serene, of all the former verdant beauty nothing
remained; all was wild and barren as at present. Frau Hütt, who had
run for refuge with her son in her arms to a neighbouring eminence, was
turned into a rock. In place of our 'Wilful waste makes woeful want,'
children in the neighbourhood are warned from waste by the saying,
'Spart eure Brosamen für die Armen, damit es euch nicht ergehe wie
der Frau Hütt.' [173] Frau Hütt also serves as the popular barometer
of Innsbruck; and when the old giantess appears with her 'night-cap'
on, no one undertakes a journey. This excursion will take four or five
hours. On the way, Büchsenhausen is passed, where, as I have already
mentioned, Gregory Löffler cast the statues of the Hofkirche. I have
also given already the legend of the Bienerweible. As a consequence
of the state execution which occasioned her melancholy aberrations,
the castle was forfeited to the crown. Ferdinand Karl, however,
restored it to the family. It was subsequently sold, and became one
of the most esteemed breweries of the country, the cellars being
hewn in the living rock; and its 'Biergarten' is much frequented by
holiday-makers. Remains of the old castle are still kept up; among
them the chapel, in which are some paintings worth attention. On one
of the walls is a portrait of the Chancellor's son, who died in the
Franciscan Order in Innsbruck, in his ninety-first year.
If time allows, the Weierburg and the Maria-Brunn may be taken in the
way home, as it makes but a slight digression; or it may be ascended
from Mühlau. The so-called Mühlauer Klamm is a picturesque gorge,
and the torrent running through it forms some cascades. Weierburg
affords a most delightful view of the picturesque capital, and the
surrounding heights and valleys mapped out around. Schloss Weierburg
was once the gay summer residence of the Emperor Maximilian, and some
relics of him are still preserved there.
Hottingen, which might be either taken on the way when visiting Frau
Hütt or the Weierburg, is a sheltered spot, and one of the few in
the Innthal where the vine flourishes. It is reached by continuing
the road past the little Church of Mariähilf across the Inn; it had
considerable importance in mediæval times, and has consequently some
interesting remains, which, as well as the bathing establishment, make
it a rival to Mühlau. In the church (dedicated to St. Nicholas) is
Gregory Löffler's monument, erected to him by his two sons. The Count
of Trautmannsdorf and other noble families of Tirol have monuments
in the Friedhof. The tower of the church is said to be a remnant
of a Roman temple to Diana. To the right of the church is Schloss
Lichtenthurm, well kept up, and often inhabited by the Schneeburg
family. On the woody heights to the north is a little pilgrimage
chapel difficult of access, and called the Höttingerbilde. It is
built over an image of our Lady found on the spot in 1764, by a
student of Innsbruck who ascribed his rapid advance in the schools
to his devotion to it. On the east side of the Höttinger stream are
some remains of lateral mining shafts, which afford the opportunity
of a curious and difficult, though not dangerous, exploration. There
are some pretty stalactitic formations, but on a restricted scale.
There is enough of interest in a visit to Zirl to make it the object
of a day's outing; but if time presses it may be reached hence, by
pursuing the main street of this suburb, called, I know not why, zum
grossen Herr-Gott, which continues in a path along an almost direct
line of about seven miles through field and forest, and for the last
four or five following the bank of the Inn. Or the whole route may
be taken in a carriage from Innsbruck, driving past the rifle-butt
under Mariähilf. At a distance of two miles you pass Kranebitten,
or Kranewitten, not far from which, at a little distance on the
right of the road, is a remarkable ravine in the heights, which
approach nearer and nearer the bank of the river. It is well worth
while to turn aside and visit this ravine, which goes by the name of
the Schwefelloch. It is an accessible introduction on a small scale
to the wild and fearful natural solitudes we read of with interest
in more distant regions. The uneven path is closed in by steep and
rugged mountain sides, which spontaneously recall many a poet's
description of a visit to the nether world. At some distance down
the gorge, a flight of eight or nine rough and precarious steps cut
in the rock, and then one or two still more precarious ladders, lead
to the so-called Hundskirche, or Hundskapelle, [174] which is said to
derive its name from having been the last resort of Pagan mysteries
when heathendom was retreating before the advance of Christianity in
Tirol. Further on, the rocks bear the name of the Wagnerwand (Wand
being a wall), and the great and lesser Lehner; and here they seem
almost to meet high above you and throw a strange gloom over your
path, and the torrent of the Sulz roars away below in the distance;
while the oft-repeated answering of the echo you evoke is more weird
than utter silence. The path which has hitherto been going north now
trends round to the west, and displays the back of the Martinswand, and
the fertile so-called Zirlerchristen, soon affording a pleasing view
both ways towards Zirl and Innsbruck. There is rough accommodation
here for the night for those who would ascend the Gross Solstein,
9,393 feet; the Brandjoch, 7,628 feet; or the Klein Solstein, 8,018
feet--peaks of the range which keep Bavaria out of Tirol.
As we proceed again on the road to Zirl, the level space between the
mountains and the river continues to grow narrower and narrower,
but what there is, is every inch cultivated; and soon we pass
the Markstein which constitutes the boundary between Ober and
Unter-Innthal. By-and-by the mountain slopes drive the road almost
down to the bank, and straight above you rises the foremost spur of the
Solstein, the Martinswand, so called by reason of its perpendicularity,
celebrated far and wide in Sage and ballad for the hunting exploit
and marvellous preservation of Kaiser Max.
It was Easter Monday, 1490; Kaiser Max was staying at Weierburg,
and started in the early morning on a hunting expedition on the
Zirlergebirge. So far there is nothing very remarkable, for his
ardent disposition and love of danger often carried him on beyond all
his suite; but then came a marvellous accident, the accounts of the
origin of which are various. There is no one in Innsbruck but has a
version of his own to tell you. As most often reported, the chamois
he was following led him suddenly down the very precipice I have
described. The steepness of the terrible descent did not affright
him; but in his frantic course one by one the iron spikes had been
wrenched from his soles, till at last just as he reached a ledge,
scarcely a span in breadth, he found he had but one left. To proceed
was impossible, but--so also was retreat. There he hung, then, a
speck between earth and sky, or as Collin's splendid popular ballad,
which I cannot forbear quoting, has it:--
Hier half kein Sprung,
Kein Adler-Schwung
Denn unter ihm senkt sich die Martinswand
Der steilste Fels im ganzen Land.
Er starrt hinab
In 's Wolkengrab
Und starrt hinaus in 's Wolkenmeer
Und schaut zurück, und schaut umher.
Wo das Donnergebrüll zu Füssen ihm grollt
Wo das Menschengewühl tief unter ihm rollt:
Da steht des Kaisers Majestät
Doch nicht zur Wonne hoch erhöht.
Ein Jammersohn
Auf luft 'gem Thron
Findet sich Max nun plötzlich allein
Und fühlt sich schaudernd, verlassen und klein. [175]
But the singers of the high deeds of Kaiser Max could not bring
themselves to believe that so signal a danger could have befallen
their hero by mere accident. They must discover for it an origin
to connect it with his political importance. Accordingly they have
said that the minions of Sigismund der Münzreiche, dispossessed at
his abdication, had plotted to lead Max, the strong redresser of
wrongs, the last flower of chivalry, the hope of the Hapsburg House,
the mainstay of his century, into destruction; that it was not that
the innocent chamois led the Kaiser astray, but that the conspirators
misled him as to the direction it had taken.
Certainly, when one thinks of the situation of the empire at that
moment, and of Hungary, the borderland against the Turks, suddenly
deprived of its great King Matthias Corvinus, even while yet at
war with them, only four days before [176]; when we think that the
writers of the ballad had before their eyes the great amount of good
Maximilian really did effect not only for Tirol, but for the empire
and for Europe, and then contemplated the idea of his career being cut
short thus almost at the outset, we can understand that they deemed
it more consonant with the circumstances to believe so great a peril
was incurred as a consequence of his devotion to duty rather than in
the pursuit of pleasure.
Here, then, he hung; a less fearless hunter might have been overawed
by the prospect or exhausted by the strain. Not so Kaiser Max. He not
only held on steadfastly by the hour, but was able to look round him
so calmly that he at last discerned behind him a cleft in the rock,
or little cave, affording a footing less precarious than that on
which he rested. The ballad may be thought to say that it opened
itself to receive him. The rest of the hunting party, even those
who had nerve to follow him to the edge of the crag, could not see
what had become of him. Below, there was no one to think of looking
up; and if there had been, even an emperor could hardly have been
discerned at a height of something like a thousand feet. The horns
of the huntsmen, and the messengers sent in every direction to ask
counsel of the most experienced climbers, within a few hours crowded
the banks on both sides with the loyal and enthusiastic people; till
at last the wail of his faithful subjects, which could be heard a
mile off, sent comfort into the heart of the Kaiser, who stood silent
and stedfast, relying on God and his people. Meantime, the sun had
reached the meridian; the burning rays poured down on the captive,
and gradually as the hours went by the rocks around him grew glowing
hot like an oven. Exhausted by the long fast, no less than the anxiety
of his position, and the sharp run that had preceded the accident,
he began to feel his strength ebbing away. One desire stirred him--to
know whether any help was possible before the insensibility, which he
felt must supervene, overcame him. Then he bethought him of writing
on a strip of parchment he had about him, to describe his situation,
and to ask if there was any means of rescue. He tied the scroll to a
stone with the cord of his hunting-horn, and threw it down into the
depth. But no sound came in answer.
In the meantime all were straining to find a way of escape. Even
the old Archduke Sigismund who, though he is never accused of any
knowledge of the alleged plot of his courtiers, yet may well be
supposed to have entertained no very good feeling towards Maximilian,
now forgot all ill-will, and despatched swift messengers to Schwatz to
summon the cleverest Knappen to come with their gear and see if they
could not devise a means for reaching him with a rope; others ran from
village to village, calling on all for aid and counsel. Some rang the
storm-bells, and some lighted alarm fires; while many more poured
into the churches and sanctuaries to pray for help from on High;
and pious brotherhoods, thousands in number, marching with their
holy emblems veiled in mourning, and singing dirges as they came,
gathered round the base of the Martinswand.
The Kaiser from his giddy height could make out something of what was
going on, but as no answer came, a second and a third time he wrote,
asking the same words. And when still no answer came--I am following
Collin's imaginative ballad--his heart sank down within him and he
said, 'If there were any hope, most surely my people would have sent a
shout up to me. So there is no doubt but that I must die here.' Then
he turned his heart to God, and tried to forget everything of this
earth, and think only of that which is eternal. But now the sun sank
low towards the horizon. While light yet remained, once more he took
his tablet and wrote; he had no cord left to attach it to the stone,
so he bound it with his gold chain--of what use were earthly ornaments
any more to him?--'and threw it down,' as the ballad forcibly says,
'into the living world, out of that grave high placed in air.'
One in the crowd caught it, and the people wept aloud as he read out
to them what the Kaiser had traced with failing hand. He thanked Tirol
for its loyal interest in his fate; he acknowledged humbly that his
suffering was a penance sent him worthily by heaven for the pride and
haughtiness with which he had pursued the chase, thinking nothing too
difficult for him. Now he was brought low. He offered his blood and
his life in satisfaction. He saw there was no help to be hoped for
his body; he trusted his soul to the mercy of God. But he besought
them to send to Zirl, and beg the priest there to bring the Most Holy
Sacrament and bless his last hour with Its Presence. When It arrived
they were to announce it to him by firing off a gun, and another
while the Benediction was imparted. Then he bid them all pray for
steadfastness for him, while the pangs of hunger gnawed away his life.
The priest of Zirl hastened to obey the summons, and the Kaiser's
injunctions were punctually obeyed. Meantime, the miners of Schwatz
were busy arranging their plan of operations--no easy matter, for they
stood fifteen hundred feet above the Emperor's ledge. But before they
were ready for the forlorn attempt, another deliverer appeared upon
the scene with a strong arm, supported the almost lifeless form of the
Emperor--for he had now been fifty-two hours in this sad plight--and
bore him triumphantly up the pathless height. There he restored him
to the people, who, frantic with joy, let him pass through their
midst without observing his appearance. Who was this deliverer? The
traditions of the time say he was an angel, sent in answer to the
Kaiser's penitential trust in God and the prayers of the people. Later
narrators say--some, that he was a bold huntsman; others, a reckless
outlaw to whom the track was known, and these tell you there is a
record of a pension being paid annually in reward for the service, if
not to him, at least to some one who claimed to have rendered it. [177]
The Monstrance, which bore the Blessed Sacrament from Zirl to carry
comfort to the Emperor in his dire need, was laid up among the
treasures of Ambras.
Maximilian, in thanksgiving for his deliverance, resolved to be less
reckless in his future expeditions, and never failed to remember the
anniversary. He also employed miners from Schwatz to cut a path down
to the hole, afterwards called the Max-Höhle, which had sheltered
him, to spare risk to his faithful subjects, who would make the
perilous descent to return thanks on the spot for his recovery;
and he set up there a crucifix, with figures of the Blessed Virgin
and S. John on either side large enough to be seen from below; and
even to the present day men used to dangerous climbing visit it with
similar sentiments. It is not often the tourist is tempted to make the
attempt, and they must be cool-headed who would venture it. The best
view of it is to be got from the remains of the little hunting-seat
and church which Maximilian afterwards built on the Martinsbühl,
a green height opposite it, and itself no light ascent. It is said
Maximilian sometimes shot the chamois out of the windows of this
villa. The stories are endless of his hardihood and presence of mind
in his alpine expeditions. At one time, threatened by the descent of
a falling rock, he not only was alert enough to spring out of the way
in time, but also seized a huntsman following him, who was not so
fortunate, and saved him from being carried over the precipice. At
another he saw a branch of a tree overhanging a yawning abyss; to
try his presence of mind he swung himself on to it, and hung over
the precipice; but crack! went the branch, and yet he saved himself
by an agile spring on to another tree. Another time, when threatened
by a falling rock, his presence of mind showed itself in remaining
quite still close against the mountain wall, in the very line of its
course, having measured with his eye that there was space enough for
it to clear him. But enough for the present.
Zirl affords a good inn and a timely resting-place, either before
returning to Innsbruck, or starting afresh to visit the Isarthal and
Scharnitz. The ascent of the Gross Solstein is made from Zirl, as may
also be that of the Martinswand. In itself Zirl has not much to arrest
attention, except its picturesque situation (particularly that of its
'Calvarienberg,' to form which the living rocks are adapted), and its
history, connecting it with the defence of the country against various
attacks from Bavaria. Proceeding northwards along the road to Seefeld,
and a little off it, you come upon Fragenstein, another of Maximilian's
hunting-seats, a strong fortress for some two hundred years before
his time, and now a fine ruin. There are many strange tales of a great
treasure buried here, and a green-clad huntsman, who appears from time
to time, and challenges the peasants to come and help him dig it out,
but something always occurs to prevent the successful issue of the
adventure. Once a party of excavators got so far that they saw the
metal vessel enclosing it; but then suddenly arose such a frightful
storm, that none durst proceed with the work; and after that the clue
to its place of concealment was lost. Continuing the somewhat steep
ascent, Leiten is passed, and then Reit, with nothing to arrest notice;
and then Seefeld, celebrated by the legend my old friend told me on the
Freundsberg. [178] The Archduke Ferdinand built a special chapel to the
left of the parish church, called die Heilige Blutskapelle, in 1575,
to contain the Host which had convicted Oswald Milser, and which is
even now an object of frequent pilgrimage. The altar-piece was restored
last year very faithfully, and with considerable artistic feeling, by
Haselwandter, of Botzen. It is adorned with statues of the favourite
heroes of the Tirolese legendary world, St. Sigismund and St. Oswald,
and compartment bas-reliefs of subjects of Gospel history known as
'the Mysteries of the Rosary.' The tone of the old work has been so
well caught, that it requires some close inspection to distinguish
the original remains from the new additions. The Archduchess Eleonora
provided the crystal reliquary and crown, and the rich curtains
within which it is preserved. At a little distance to south-west of
Seefeld, on a mountain-path leading to Telfs, is a little circular
chapel, built by Leopold V. in 1628, over a crucifix which had long
been honoured there. It is sometimes called the Kreuz-kapelle, but
more often the zur-Seekapelle, though one of the two little lakes,
whence the appellation, and the name of Seefeld too, was derived,
dried out in 1807. There is also a legend of the site having been
originally pointed out by a flight of birds similar to that I have
given concerning S. Georgenberg.
The road then falls more gently than on the Zirl side, but is rugged
and wild in its surroundings, to Scharnitz, near which you meet the
blue-green gushing waters of the Isar. Scharnitz has borne the brunt
of many a terrible contest in the character of outpost of Tirolean
defences: it is known to have been a fortress in the time of the
Romans. It was one of the points strengthened by Klaudia de' Medici,
who built the 'Porta Klaudia' to command the pass. Good service it
did on more than one occasion; but it succumbed in the inroad of
French and Bavarians combined, in 1805. It was garrisoned at that
time by a small company of regular troops, under an English officer
in the Austrian service named Swinburne, whose gallant resistance
was cordially celebrated by the people. He was overwhelmed, however,
by superior numbers and appliances, and at Marshal Ney's orders the
fort was so completely destroyed, that scarcely a trace of it is now
to be found. [179]
It is the border town against Bavaria, and is consequently enlivened
by a customs office and a few uniforms, but it is a poor place. I was
surprised to be accosted and asked for alms by a decent-looking woman,
whom I had seen kneeling in the church shortly before as this sort
of thing is not common in Tirol. She told me the place had suffered
sadly by the railway; for before, it was the post-station for all
the traffic between Munich and Innsbruck and Italy. The industries
of the place were not many or lucrative; the surrounding forests
supply some employment to woodmen; and what she called Dirstenöhl,
which seems to be dialectic for Steinöhl or petroleum, is obtained
from the bituminous soil in the neighbourhood; it is obtained by
a kind of distillation--a laborious process. The work lasted from
S. Vitus' Day to the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin; that was now
past, and her husband, who was employed in it, had nothing to do;
she had an old father to support, and a sick child. Then she went
on to speak of the devotion she had just been reciting in the church
to obtain help, and evidently looked upon her meeting with me as an
answer to it. It seemed to consist in saying three times, a petition
which I wrote down at her dictation as follows:--'Gott grüsse dich
Maria! ich grüsse dich drei und dreizig Tausend Mal; O Maria ich
grüsse dich wie der Erzengel Gabriel dich gregüsset hat. Es erfreuet
dich in deinen Herzen dass der Erzengel Gabriel den himmlischen Gruss
zu dir gebracht hat. Ave Maria, &c.' She said she had never used that
devotion and failed to obtain her request. I learnt that the origin
she ascribed to it was this:--A poor girl, a cow-herd of Dorf, some
miles over the Bavarian frontier, who was very devout to the Blessed
Virgin, had been in the habit while tending her herds of saying the
rosary three times every day in a little Madonna chapel near her
grazing-ground. But one summer there came a great heat, which burnt
up all the grass, and the cattle wandered hither and thither seeking
their scanty food, so that it was all she could do to run after and
keep watch over them. The good girl was now much distressed in mind;
for the tenour of her life had been so even before, that when she made
her vow to say the three rosaries, it had never occurred to her such
a contingency might happen. But she knew also that neither must she
neglect her supervision of the cattle committed to her charge. While
praying then to Heaven for light to direct her in this difficulty,
the simple girl thought she saw a vision of our Lady, bidding her
be of good heart, and she would teach her a prayer to say instead,
which would not take as long as the rosary, and would please her
as well, and that she should teach it also to others who might be
overwhelmed with work like herself. This was the petition I have
quoted above. But the maid was too humble to speak of having received
so great a favour, and lived and died without saying anything about
it. When she came to die, however, her soul could find no rest, for
her commission was unfulfilled; and whenever anyone passed alone by
the wayside chapel where she had been wont to pray, he was sure to see
her kneeling there. At last a pious neighbour, who knew how good she
had been, summoned courage to ask her how it was that she was dealt
with thus. Then the good girl told him what had befallen her long ago
on that spot, and bid him fulfil the part she had neglected, adding,
'But tell them also not to think the mere saying the words is enough;
they must pray with faith and dependence on God, and also strive to
keep themselves from sin.'
In returning from Zirl to Innsbruck, the left bank may be visited by
taking the Zirl bridge and pursuing the road bordering the river; you
come thus to Unterperfuss, another bourne of frequent excursion from
Innsbruck, the inn there having the reputation of possessing a good
cellar, and the views over the neighbourhood being most romantic,
the Château of Ferklehen giving interest to the natural beauties
around. Hence, instead of pursuing the return journey at once, a
digression may be made through the Selrainthal (Selrain, in the dialect
of the neighbourhood, means the edge of a mountain); and it is indeed
but a narrow strip bordering the stream--the Melach or Malk, so called
from its milk-white waters--which pours itself out by three mouths
into the Inn at the debouchure of the valley. There is many a 'cluster
of houses,' as German expresses [180] a settlement too small to be
dignified with the name of village, perched on the heights around,
but all reached by somewhat rugged paths. The first and prettiest is
Selrain, which is always locally called Rothenbrunn, because the iron
in the waters, which form an attraction to valetudinarian visitors,
has covered the soil over which they flow with a red deposit. Small as
it is, it boasts two churches, that to S. Quirinus being one of the
most ancient in Tirol. The mountain path through the Fatscherthal,
though much sought by Innsbruckers, is too rough travelling for
the ordinary tourist, but affords a fine mountain view, including
the magnificent Fernerwand, or glacier-wall, which closes it in,
and the three shining and beautifully graduated peaks of the Hohe
Villerspitz. At a short distance from Selrain may be found a pretty
cascade, one of the six falls of the Saigesbach. Some four or five
miles further along the valley is one of the numerous villages named
Gries; and about five miles more of mountain footpath leads to the
coquettishly perched sanctuary of St. Sigismund, the highest inhabited
point of the Selrainthal. It is one of the many high-peaked buildings
with which the Archduke Sigismund, who seems to have had a wonderful
eye for the picturesque, loved to set off the heaven-pointing cones of
the Tirolese mountains. Another opening in the mountains, which runs
out from Gries, is the Lisenthal, in the midst of which lie Juvenau
and Neurätz, the latter much visited by parties going to pick up the
pretty crystal spar called 'Andalusiten.' Further along the path stands
by the wayside a striking fountain, set up for the refreshment of the
weary, called the Magdalenenbründl, because adorned with a statue of
the Magdalen, the image of whose penitence was thought appropriate
to this stern solitude by the pious founder. The Melach is shortly
after crossed by a rustic bridge, and a path over wooded hills leads
to the ancient village of Pragmar. Hence the ascent of the Sonnenberg
or Lisens-Ferner is made. The monastery of Wilten has a summer villa
on its lower slope, serving as a dairy for the produce of their
pastures in the neighbourhood; a hospitable place of refreshment for
the traveller and alpine climber, and with its chapel constituting a
grateful object both to the pilgrim and the artist. The less robust
and enterprising will find an easier excursion in the Lengenthal,
a romantically wild valley, which forms a communication between the
Lisenthal and the OEtzthal.
The Selrainthalers are behind none in maintaining the national
character. When the law of conscription--one of the most obnoxious
results of the brief cession to Bavaria--was propounded, the youths of
the Selrain were the first to show that, though ever ready to devote
their lives to the defence of the fatherland, they would never be
enrolled in an army in whose ranks they might be sent to fight in
they knew not what cause--perhaps against their own brethren. The
generous stand they made against the measure constituted their valley
the rendezvous of all who would escape from it for miles round, and
soon their band numbered some five hundred. During the whole of the
Bavarian occupation they maintained their independence, and were among
the first to raise the standard of the year 1809. A strong force was
sent out on March 14 to reduce them to obedience, when the Selrainers
gave good proof that it was not cowardice which had made them refuse
to join the army. They repulsed the Bavarian regulars with such
signal success, that the men of the neighbourhood were proud to range
themselves under their banner, which as long as the campaign lasted
was always found in the thickest of the fight. No less than eleven
of their number received decorations for personal bravery. In peace,
too, they have shown they know how to value the independence for which
they fought; though their labours in the field are so greatly enhanced
by the steepness of the ground which is their portion, that the men
yoke themselves to the plough, and carry burdens over places where no
oxen could be guided. Their industry and perseverance provide them
so well with enough to make them contented, if not prosperous, that
'in Selrain hat jeder zu arbeiten und zu essen' (in Selrain there
is work and meat enough for all) is a common proverb. The women,
who are unable for the reason above noted to take so much part in
field-labours as in some other parts, have found an industry for
themselves in bleaching linen, and enliven the landscape by the
cheerful zest with which they ply their thrifty toil.
The path for the return journey from Selrain to Ober-Perfuss--or
foot of the upper height--is as rugged as the other paths we have
been traversing, but is even more picturesque. The church is newly
restored, and contains a monument, with high-sounding Latin epitaph,
to one Peter Anich, of whose labours in overcoming the difficulties
of the survey and mensuration of his country, which has nowhere three
square miles of plain, his co-villagers are justly proud. He was
an entirely self-taught man, but most accurate in his observations,
and he induced other peasants to emulate his studies. Ober-perfuss
also has a mineral spring. A pleasant path over hills and fields
leads in about an hour to Kematen, a very similar village; but the
remains of the ruined hunting-seat of Pirschenheim, now used as an
ordinary lodging-house, adds to its picturesqueness. Near by it may
also be visited the pretty waterfall of the Sendersbach. A shorter
and easier stage is the next, through the fields to Völs or Vels,
which clusters at the foot of the Blasienberg, once the dwelling of a
hermit, and still a place of pilgrimage and the residence of the priest
of the village. The parish church of Vels is dedicated in honour of
S. Jodok, the English saint, whose statue we saw keeping watch over
Maximilian's tomb at Innsbruck. Another hour across the level ground
of the Galwiese, luxuriantly covered with Indian corn, brings us back
to Innsbruck through the Innrain; the Galwiese has its name from the
echo of the hills, which close in the plain as it nears the capital;
wiese being a meadow, and gal the same form of Schall--resonance,
which occurs in Nachtigall, nightingale; and also, strangely enough,
in gellen, to sound loudly (or yell). At the cross-road (to Axams) we
passed some twenty minutes out of Völs, where the way is still wild,
is the so-called Schwarze Kreuz-kapelle. One Blasius Hölzl, ranger
of the neighbouring forest, was once overtaken by a terrible storm;
the Geroldsbach, rushing down from the Götzneralp, had obliterated the
path with its torrents; the reflection of each lightning flash in the
waste of waters around seemed like a sword pointed at the breast of his
horse, who shied and reared, and threatened to plunge his rider in the
ungoverned flood. Hölzl was a bold forester, but he had never known a
night like this; and as the rapidly succeeding flashes almost drove
him to distraction, he vowed to record the deliverance on the spot
by a cross of iron, of equal weight to himself and his mount, if he
reached his fireside in safety. Then suddenly the noisy wind subsided,
the clouds owned themselves spent, and in place of the angry forks of
flame only soft and friendly sheets of light played over the country,
and enabled him to steer his homeward way. Hölzl kept his promise,
and a black metal cross of the full weight promised long marked the
spot, and gave it its present name. [181] The accompanying figures
of our Lady and S. John having subsequently been thrown down, it
was removed to the chapel on Blasienberg. Ferneck, a pleasant though
primitive bath establishment, is prettily situated on the Innsbruck
side of the Galwiese, and the church there was also once a favourite
sanctuary with the people; but when the neighbouring land was taken
from the monks at Wilten, who had had it ever since the days of the
penitent giant Haymon, it ceased to be remembered.
Starting from Innsbruck again in a southerly direction, a little
beyond Wilten, already described, we reach Berg Isel. Though invaded
in part by the railway, it is still a worthy bourne of pilgrimage,
by reason of the heroic victories of the patriots under Hofer. On
Sunday and holiday afternoons parties of Innsbruckers may always be
found refreshing these memories of their traditional prowess. It is
also precious on less frequented occasions for the splendid view it
affords of the whole Innthal. Two columns in the Scheisstand record
the honours of April 29 and August 30, 1809, with the inscription,
'Donec erunt montes et saxa et pectora nostra Austriacæ domini mænia
semper erunt.' I must confess, however, that the noise of the perpetual
rifle-practice is a great vexation, and prevents one from preserving
an unruffled memory of the patriotism of which it is the exponent;
but this holds good all over Germany. Here, on May 29, fell Graf
Johan v. Stachelburg, the last of his noble family, a martyr to his
country's cause. The peasants among whom he was fighting begged him
not to expose his life so recklessly, but he would not listen. 'I
shall die but once,' he replied to all their warnings; 'and where
could it befall me better than when fighting for the cause of God and
Austria?' He was mortally wounded, and carried in a litter improvised
from the brushwood to Mutters, where he lies buried. A little beyond
the southern incline of Berg Isel a path strikes out to the right,
and ascends the heights to the two villages of Natters and Mutters,
the people of which were only in 1786 released from the obligation
of going to Wilten for their Mass of obligation. Natters has some
remains of one of Archduke Sigismund's high-perched hunting-seats,
named Waidburg; he also instituted in 1446 a foundation for saying
five Masses weekly in its chapel.
There are further several picturesque mountain walks to be found in
the neighbourhood of Innsbruck, under the grandly towering Nockspitze
and the Patscherkofl. Or again from either Mutters or Natters there is
a path leading down to Götzens, Birgitz, Axams, and Grintzens, across
westwards to the southern end of the Selrainthal. Götzens (from Götze,
an idol), like the Hundskapelle, received its name for having retained
its heathen worship longer than the rest of the district around. The
ruins, which you see on a detached peak as you leave Götzens again,
are the two towers of Liebenberger, and Völlenberger the poor remains
of Schloss Völlenberg, the seat of an ancient Tirolean family of
that name, who were very powerful in the twelfth and thirteenth
centuries. It fell in to the Crown during the reign of Friedrich
mit der leeren Tasche, by the death of its last male heir. Frederick
converted it into a state-prison. The noblest person it ever harboured
was the poet Oswald von Wolkenstein. Himself a knight of noble lineage,
he had been inclined in the early part of Frederick's reign to join
his influence with the rest of the nobility against him, because he
took alarm at his familiarity with the common people. Frederick's
sudden establishment of his power, and the energetic proceedings
he immediately adopted for consolidating it, took many by surprise,
Oswald von Wolkenstein among the rest. He was a bard of too sweet song,
however, to be shut up in a cage, and Friedl was not the man to keep
the minstrel in durance when it was safe to let him be at large. He
had no sooner established himself firmly on the throne than he not only
released the poet, but forgetting all cause of animosity against him,
placed him at his court, and delighted his leisure hours with listening
to his warbling. Oswald's wild and adventurous career had stored his
mind with such subjects as Friedl would love to hear sung. But we shall
have more to say of Oswald when we come to his home in the Grödnerthal.
The next village is Birgitz; and the next, after crossing the
torrent which rushes down from the Alpe Lizum, is Axams, one of the
most ancient in the neighbourhood, after passing the opening to the
lonesome but richly pastured Sendersthal, the slopes of which meet
those of the Selrainthal.
The only remaining valley of North Tirol which I have room here to
treat is the Stubay Thal. [182] Of the three or four ways leading
into it from Innsbruck, all rugged, the most remarkable is called by
the people 'beim Papstl' because that traversed by Pius VI. when he
passed through Tirol, as I have already narrated. The first place
of any interest is Waldrast, a pilgrim's chapel, dating from the
year 1465. A poor peasant was directed by a voice he heard in his
sleep to go to the woods (Wald), and lay him down to rest (Rast),
and it would be told him what he should do; hence the name of the
spot. There the Madonna appeared to him, and bid him build a chapel
over an image of her which appeared there, no one knew how, some years
before. [183] A Servite monastery, built in 1624 on the spot, is now
in ruins, but the pilgrimage is still often made. It may be reached
from the railway station of Matrey. The ascent of the Serlesspitz
being generally undertaken from here, it is called in Innsbruck the
Waldrasterspitz. Fulpmes is the largest village of the Stubay Thal. The
inhabitants are all workers in iron and steel implements, and among
other things are reckoned to make the best spikes for the shoes of
the mountain climbers. Their works are carried all over Austria and
Italy, but less now than formerly. In the church are some pictures
by a peasant girl of this place. Few will be inclined to pursue this
valley further; and the only remaining place of any mark is Neustift,
the marshy ground round which provides the Innsbruck market with
frogs. The church of Neustift was built, at considerable cost, in
the tasteless style of the last century. The wood carvings by the
Tirolean artists Keller, Hatter, and Zatter, however, are meritorious.