SOME CHARACTERISTIC LEGENDS, CUSTOMS, AND SPORTS
Just as is the case with Switzerland so in Tyrol the land itself, its
history, even its geological evolution, seem in a measure reflected in
the character and disposition of its people. One cannot indeed be any
long time in Tyrol without becoming aware of and appreciating this
fact. In the kindliness and hospitality of the Tyrolese one has
reflected the characteristics of aloofness from the outer world, and
dependence upon one another, which the position of their "land within
the mountains" typifies--characteristics which have grown (and
fortunately have not yet become, at least in the more remote parts, to
any large extent tainted by considerations of self-interest) from the
circumstances of former days, when individual hospitality had to serve
for the absence of inns and commercial conveniences of the kind. So,
too, in the rugged, patriotic, and sturdy natures of the people one
can trace a parallel with the configuration of their beloved land; as
one can also trace in their single-heartedness, piety, poetic traits,
and simplicity, the frugal and laborious lives which the majority
lead, unvexed in former times by the fret of small things, and through
succeeding ages strengthened by the great needs of patriotism and
self-sacrifice which the political crises outside their own borders
often brought home to them by invasion and attempted subjection.
[Sidenote: A DELIGHTFUL LAND]
It is not at all wonderful, then, that a people dwelling in a land of
such surpassing beauty, where flower-bedecked upper pastures melt away
into rocky peaks, glaciers, and snow-clad heights; where the music of
tinkling brooks trickling down the mountain side and the roar of
greater torrents are ever with them; with the eternal silence of great
heights surrounding them and, as it were, shutting them in from the
outer world, should be gifted with an appreciation of romantic beauty,
legend, and poetry beyond the common run of mortals.
As we have already shown, much history and many stirring events have
been enacted within the mountain-girdled borders of Tyrol. And,
nowadays, when the country is coming slowly but surely to her own as a
delightful holiday ground for weary dwellers in Western cities, many
of her valleys bring to the minds of those who know something of the
country's story dramatic and romantic memories of the stirring events
and legends which have through past ages become associated with their
names.
Scarcely a valley, village, or townlet, whether set high or low in
this enticing land, but has its own legend or story. And in almost all
of the less travelled corners one finds strange, and to most
travellers incomprehensible, dialects still lingering amongst the
peasantry, notwithstanding the fact that gradually the Germanization
of even the southern portion of Tyrol is being brought about. In one
or other of these dialects which so survive, scholars and philologists
of former times have thought the key to the ancient language of
Etruria might be discovered; and in more modern days there has been
the same hope expressed, but as yet it is unfulfilled. Müller,[7] for
one, thought that in some secluded valley of the Tyrol or Grisons the
key to the riddle in the form of "a remnant of the old Rhætian dialect
might be discovered." Müller's hope has since then in a measure been
realized through the efforts and researches of Steub, who, whilst
travelling in Tyrol in Alpine districts in 1842, found some
fragmentary remains of a dialect approaching very nearly Etruscan,
though not sufficiently full to form any very important or extended
key to the tongue. His book[8] contains the results of the inquiries,
tests, and deductions which he was at first led to undertake by the
strange names of the towns and villages which he came across in his
travels. Then he collected these, and we are told set to work "testing
them with Celtic, but discovering no analogy he tried other tests, and
with the Etruscan met with some considerable success," which was
chiefly valuable, however, as confirming the theory and ancient
traditions of a Rhæto-Etruria. Many of his conclusions, however, have
never been accepted by philologists either of his own day or of later
times; and some of the word examples he gives as having analogies are
quite incomprehensible to the ordinary student.
[Sidenote: THE LANGUAGE]
To all intents and purposes German and Italian are the languages
spoken throughout Tyrol, a knowledge of which will be sufficient for
all ordinary purposes of travel. The former prevailing in the
Vorarlberg and North Tyrol; the latter in South Tyrol and Wälsch
Tyrol, though German is found in both of these districts, and in South
Tyrol very considerably.
In the Vorarlberg, however, one comes across numerous words and
expressions which are undoubtedly of Italian origin, and are remaining
evidences of the periods when the Venetian Republic ruled over a
district now a part of Tyrol. The Italian word _gútto_, a can or
feeding-bottle, for example, has its counterpart in _guttera_; whilst
from _fazzolétto_, a handkerchief, one has _fazanedle_; and from
_gaudio_, joy, we have _gaude_; and from _cappéllo_, a hat, has
probably come _schapel_.
[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE TYROL ALPS]
A very considerable number of words of French origin or of marked
similarity to French words are found in parts of the Vorarlberg.
_Gespousa_, a bride, has a distinct philological affinity to
_épouse_; and _au_, water, pronounced very similarly, can be traced to
_eau_, and is found common to both North Tyrol and the Vorarlberg.
_Shesa_, a trap or gig, bears a marked resemblance to the French
_chaise_.
Even England appears to have contributed a considerable number of
words to the vocabulary of certain districts of Tyrol, though perhaps
they are, more strictly speaking, words similarly derived from German
or Norman French which have become common to both. In _gulla_, a
gulley; _gompa_, to jump; _datti_, daddy; _witsch_, witch; and many
others this is traceable. It will be gathered from these few examples
that the language and dialects of Tyrol are composite of several
tongues, as is almost always the case in countries which have seen
many vicissitudes of occupation and development.
[Sidenote: FOLK TALES]
In Tyrol, which has experienced these and possesses such a large share
of romantic beauty, and even nowadays some "solitary places," there
need be little wonder that legends, superstitions, and myths are found
nearly everywhere. Almost every village has its own, whose origin has
been lost in the mists of antiquity, and whose date can only be traced
uncertainly by its analogy to some other similar, more widely known,
and more easily dated legend, tale, or superstition. Many of them
enshrine actual events recorded and re-recorded with poetic license
and varying accuracy, so that at last what was originally founded upon
fact has in process of time become overlaid with much poetic imagery
and fiction. To most of these tales and accounts of events each teller
added something of himself suggested by his knowledge, imagination, or
art; and thus ultimately what had once been facts became legends
common to all throughout the length and breadth of the land till some
one set them down in permanent form by writing or printing. Then the
variations in a measure ceased.
Tyrol is full of these legendary tales, superstitions, and myths, to
which, indeed, the geological situation of the land and the simple
habits of the people conduce. When we remember that in ancient times
it was the universal custom to ascribe all manifestations of Nature's
laws which could not be easily traced and understood to the
supernatural, it is little wonder that the simple, unsophisticated,
and uneducated Tyrolese should have so attributed many of the wonders
amid which they lived. One very noticeable feature of the Tyrolese
character is demonstrated by the fact that, notwithstanding the
centuries of evolution during which superstition played so important a
part in the life of the people, and the existence of an unreflecting
belief in the supernatural, their many virtues, especially those of
patriotism, industry, frugality of living, morality, hospitality, and
religion, have not, as with some other nations, become impaired.
Amongst the many legends of a startling and supernatural character
which are found throughout Tyrol, is one connected with the pretty
little village of Taur in the Innthal. It has to do with a hermit who
lived in the seventeenth century in a cell overlooking the Wildbach.
He is often said by the countryfolk to have been St. Romedius himself,
though this, of course, could not be the case. One night, whilst the
holy man was engaged in his usual meditation and prayer, a tapping was
heard against the little window of his retreat. Upon opening the door,
what was his amazement to see, not the benighted traveller he expected
to find craving his hospitality and shelter, but the spirit of his
friend the priest of Taur who had recently died. The latter entreated
the holy man to have compassion upon him, saying, "Have pity upon me,
Father, for my sufferings are terrible. Once when three Masses had
been ordered and the fees paid I forgot to say them, and now for this
sin I am being punished more than I can bear."
Then the legend goes on to say that he laid his hand upon the
low-pitched roof of the little porch outside the hermit's cell, and
the holy man afterwards found that the wood was charred and the
impression of the tortured priest's hand was left indelibly in the
wood. The poor suppliant begged his old friend the hermit to say the
Masses, and to pray and fast for him. This the holy man promised
faithfully to do; and keeping his promise, a year and a day afterwards
the spirit once more rapped upon the casement and told him that he was
now free of purgatory. In the chapel there hung at least a few years
ago, and we believe now hangs, the tile with the mark of the priest's
hand branded into it, beneath which is written an account of the
miracle, with the date February, 1660.
In Wälsch Tyrol, especially, there are many folk-lore tales having a
distinctly Biblical origin or suggestion. Possibly they are oral
versions of Bible incidents handed down from generation to generation
in the early years of Christianity and during the Middle Ages, until
they have gradually in process of time and varied repetition lost
their strictly Biblical character. One of the most usually met with
(it is told by most Wälsch Tyrol mothers to their children, and is a
favourite on account of its dramatic end, and because virtue triumphs)
bears a very strong resemblance to the story of Joseph and his
Brethren. The story runs thus: "Once long ago there lived a king who
had three sons. Two were quite grown up, but the third was a child,
and was his father's joy and favourite. One day the king, who had been
out upon a hunting expedition, returned home from the chase of the
bear and chamois fatigued, and dispirited because of the loss of a
favourite feather[9] which he was accustomed to wear in his cap. There
was a hue and cry raised, but no one could find the lost article. At
length little (Joseph) came to his father and urged him to grieve no
more but to refresh himself and then rest, "for," said the child,
"either I myself or one of my brothers will find the feather."
Then the king, pleased with the child, and doubtless hopeful that he
would be the one to find the missing plume, said, "To whomsoever finds
the feather will I leave my kingdom."
The three brothers set out on their search, and after much trouble the
youngest suddenly espied the object for which they were looking. But
the two elder men, consumed by jealousy at the thought of Joseph's
inheriting the kingdom, led him away into a wood and killed him, and,
taking the feather to their father the king, told him that they both
found it and thus jointly claimed the reward. Regarding the missing
(Joseph) they said that whilst searching for the feather they missed
him, and suddenly looked up to see him being borne away by a bear into
the recesses of the woods, and as they were unarmed it was impossible
for them to attempt to rescue him. The king was consumed by grief;
search was made, but the body was not discovered; and it was not until
the proverbial year and a day afterwards that a shepherd boy came
across (Joseph's) bones, and, taking one of them, fashioned it into a
primitive flute or shepherd's pipe. The wonderful part of the story is
still to come. No sooner had the shepherd commenced to play upon the
pipe than it told, in the voice of the poor child victim of jealousy,
the whole story. The shepherd took the pipe to the king and played
upon it before him. The king listened, and, accepting the miraculous
tale it told, ordered his two sons, who were present and struck with
amazement and fear, to be instantly put to death.
There are scores of other stories of a similar character told during
the winter evenings around the fire in Tyrolese huts and houses. Some
have a family likeness to tales of our own land, such as Cinderella,
Puss in Boots, Jack and the Beanstalk (only the giant is often
replaced by an immense toad who guards fabulous wealth, that is only
to be obtained by killing the toad in single combat, which feat is, of
course, performed by the poor boy who wishes to marry the Princess),
Red Riding Hood, etc. An account of these, however, rightly belongs to
a volume of comparative folk-lore, and for detailed description we
have no space in the present one.
[Sidenote: SOME QUAINT CUSTOMS]
Of the many quaint customs which still prevail in different parts of
Tyrol, those relating to Christmas and to All Souls are amongst the
most tender and picturesque. In North Tyrol, more especially perhaps
in the district of the Unter-Innthal, Christmas, which is called
Christnacht and Weihnacht, is celebrated by the gift of _Klaubabrod_,
a strange cake-like compound made of dough, almonds, slices of pears,
and other preserved fruits and nuts, which, at least with the
generality of foreigners, must, we think from personal experience, be
"an acquired taste." The Zillerthal maidens are specially
well-instructed in the making of _Klaubabrod_, and the one prepared
for the family consumption, if the maker be engaged, must have the
first slice cut out of it by her betrothed, who then kisses her and at
the same time gives her some little present as a mark of his
affection. In former days it was the custom of the Bishops of Brixen
to make presents of fish to members of their household and to all in
their employ. The fish came from Lake Garda, and was allowed by custom
to pass through the dominions of the reigning Count of Tyrol and the
Prince Bishop of Trent exempt from the toll which would otherwise have
been levied.
In Wälsch Tyrol there is a curious Christmas custom still to be met
with which consists of the arrangement, by the father of the family,
of a number of heaps of flour upon a table or shelf. In these are
hidden various little presents, and when the children and other
members of the household have been admitted they take their heap
according to the drawing of lots, or the result of some contest or
competition.
The belief that animals have the gift of speech, which has during past
ages been prevalent throughout Christendom, still prevails in some
parts of the more remote districts and valleys of Tyrol; and strange
stories are told of things said by beasts and over-heard by human
beings which have come true, so that animals evidently are accredited
also with the gift of prophecy.
At Epiphany, in many parts of Tyrol, performances very similar in
character to the English old-time "mummers" are given. Generally three
of the village boys dressed up to represent kings, one having his face
blacked, go from house to house singing. Sometimes a Herod will appear
at the window of the house and reply to their songs in rhyming
couplets. After which the singers stand in turn and sing, and end with
a chorus which contains broad hints that they would not refuse some
refreshment were it offered them! They seldom or never fail to receive
this, as usually some provision has been made by the hospitable
village folk for the purpose.
The blessing of cattle on the Eve of Epiphany was at one time an
almost universal practice with the Tyrolese. This, however, has been
largely discontinued, although still extant in some hamlets of the
remote valleys.
As showing the almost universal prevalence of certain ideas underlying
customs, though often varying in details, one may quote the observance
of All Souls in Wälsch Tyrol, which bears a marked resemblance to the
beautiful and even more pathetic ceremonials connected with the Feast
of Bon Matsuri in far-off Japan. In parts of Wälsch Tyrol, although
the graves of the departed are not decorated nowadays, as is so much
the practice in Germany, the parish priests gather their parishioners
together in the churchyards and recite the Rosary whilst kneeling
amidst the graves. In many parts loaves, called _cuzza_, are given to
the poor with small doles of money, and sometimes bean soup. In
former times, however, these doles, which are for the refreshment of
the souls of the departed, were actually laid upon the graves
themselves, apparently in the belief that the souls would come forth
and partake of the food so lovingly provided. Pitchers, cups, and
other vessels containing fresh water were also placed so that the
souls might slake their purgatorial thirst. It is in this latter and
ancient, and not in the less symbolic modern observance that the
analogy to the Bon Matsuri of Japan is so distinctly traceable.
[Sidenote: MARRIAGE IN TYROL]
Of the curious customs which once prevailed very widely, and are even
now to be found in the more remote districts, those relating to
marriage are amongst the most quaint. The month of May is, strangely
enough, unpopular; with us the opposite appears to be the case. The
favourite day is a Thursday. In fact, one writer ventures to say,
"throughout Tyrol a Thursday is chosen." Monday, however, is the
favourite in one of the smaller valleys of the Windisch-Matrei
district.
On the night before the wedding there is usually a great dance given,
and in towns often a hall is hired for the purpose, where the
contracting parties are well known, in a good position, and have a
large circle of friends and acquaintances; and in villages where the
same circumstances occur an elaborately decorated barn is often used
for the merry-making.
From the time the wedding is announced or the "banns" published the
betrothed maiden is known as the "Pulpit Bride" or _Kansel-Braut_.
These village wedding festivities are often rendered picturesque and
even mediæval in effect, as the peasants frequently wear the costumes
of former times, and the barn is lighted by pine torches or equally
primitive methods. The dancing is kept up till early morning, in fact
often until sunrise; and not till then do the guests disperse, some of
the more favoured going on to the bride's house for a substantial
breakfast, or, as it is called, _Morgensuppe_. Whilst this is in
progress the bride is usually attired by her girl friends (quite a
number of them frequently sharing in this interesting and even
exciting ceremony), and those who have not come in to breakfast may
continue the dancing. One of the special adornments worn by brides is
a knot of long ribbons or scarlet leather worked with gold thread,
whilst blue bands, worn round the arm, and the hat ribbons are of the
same colour. These were anciently thought, and are indeed still so, to
have special powers to preserve the wearer from goitre and other
complaints.
The bride's procession, which forms usually at about ten or eleven in
the morning, is headed by musicians. But before starting the guests
assemble round the table in the living room and drink the good health
of the happy couple out of a large bowl from which the latter
themselves have drunk first. The nearest relatives and friends of the
bride usually form a kind of guard of honour, being known as "train
bearers," although we fancy a "train" is seldom worn by a peasant, or
by one of the lower middle class. These "train bearers" surround the
bride, and, except in inclement weather, walk with their hats in their
hand, and sometimes bear garlands of flowers. In some districts it is
the custom for the priest to accompany the bride to church, not as
with us to await her arrival there, walking on one side of her whilst
the parents walk on the other. Orange blossom is seldom worn, save by
the rich; peasant girls wearing as a substitute a spray or wreath of
Rosemary, which it is also a common practice for them to do in Italy
and Spain. The plant is considered emblematic of the purity of the
Virgin, and for that reason highly valued.
[Sidenote: COSTUMES]
Very frequently a Tyrolese bride wears no special bridal dress, but
her holiday or _fête_ dress, which has perhaps been retrimmed or
additionally embellished for the occasion. This was the case at a
wedding at which we were present in the Unter-Innthal, where the
bridesmaids also wore their picturesque festal attire, with
broad-brimmed velvet hats, elaborately embroidered bolero-shaped
bodices, snowy linen sleeves, short velvet skirts, and handsome
aprons. Their shoes were mostly of black leather, some of those worn
by the well-to-do girls being adorned by huge silver buckles.
On this occasion the bridegroom was scarcely less gay in attire than
the bride. Clad in short black velvet knee-breeches, and wearing a
green velvet double-fronted waistcoat, a black jacket, thick brown
knitted woollen hose, a crown or head ornament of silver filigree
work, and a massive silver belt with heavy bosses, he was not only a
conspicuous, but also an almost theatrical figure of the procession. A
priest also accompanied him, followed by the village innkeeper, who is
not seldom the richest man of the community, owner of the largest
amount of land, and the holder of a position somewhat analogous to
that of a mayor. It is generally agreed that the Tyrolese village
innkeeper is a man of superior calibre to his English counterpart.
Usually he is a man of upright character, and superior intelligence to
the average villager; and carrying on, as he frequently does, several
other businesses besides that of innkeeper, he is less interested than
in some other countries in the excessive consumption of drink.
At many weddings singers from neighbouring villages and hamlets will
come into the bride's native place to assist with the singing and
music which form a prominent feature of the ceremony. Lighted tapers
are sometimes carried by the bridal party in church; and candles that
will not burn well are always avoided and thrown aside by the younger
and unmarried members of the company on account of the belief
prevailing that to hold such is a sure sign that the bearers will not
be married within the year. At the conclusion of the ceremony a cup of
spiced wine mixed with water is sometimes handed round by the priest
after he has blessed it, out of which the guests all drink to the
health of the bride and bridegroom to be. In the old name given to
this _Johannis segen_ (literally John's blessing) some authorities are
inclined to trace a symbolism having its origin in the miracle
performed at the wedding feast in Cana of Galilee.
After the ceremony has been performed the wedding-party leaves the
church, and, as is the case on similar occasions in Brittany and other
countries, dancing almost immediately commences. It is sometimes,
indeed, started almost at the church door, and thus the wedding-party
proceeds to the village inn accompanied by musicians. In former times
it was the almost universal custom in several valleys of Tyrol to
proceed in turn to every inn within a radius of some miles after
refreshments had been partaken of at the first. A very fatiguing
custom one would imagine. Refreshments, we were told, generally marked
each visit, and yet the real business of the day, the wedding feast,
was still to come!
In ancient times--the custom has now fallen into disuse so far as we
have been able to discover--it was also the practice to slaughter a
fatted calf, which had been reserved for that particular purpose.
Every possible joint and portion of the animal was served up in turn
even to the head and feet.
[Sidenote: A TYROLESE WEDDING]
At the end of a feast which even nowadays lasts hours, and formerly,
so one old writer says, "consumed much time so that the whole day was
frequently given over to feasting till few who sat down to the board
were capable of much exertion," the best man or some prominent
groomsman rises and asks the guests whether they are satisfied with
the fare provided. It is needless to say that such a question is
invariably received with rounds of appreciative applause. Then, in
former times more frequently than nowadays, the speaker proceeded to
preach a little sermonette which generally ran something in the
following style, and was little varied from occasion to occasion, or
even from one generation to another. "The good gifts of which we have
partaken are from the hand of God. Therefore should thanks be given to
Him. And yet more should this be done for His mercy in making us in
His image and reasonable beings, and not as the wild beasts of the
field or crawling things, or unbelievers. We have but to thank Him and
turn ourselves to Him in the spirit of humbleness and gratitude, and
He will abide and go with us as with those at the marriage feast in
Cana of Galilee."
Other duties in life and aspirations were usually touched upon, and
coming from one of themselves we can well believe the speech was
listened to with additional attention by a race of people
distinguished for simple piety and homely religion. The exhortation
was usually followed by a loud saying of a Paternoster and a "Hail
Mary" by all present.
Often this address is followed by other refreshments of a lighter kind
than those of the feast proper. Some are of special design, and in
their shapes and decorations have symbolic meaning, as is sometimes
the case of wedding dishes and decorations in other countries. After
this the guests bring forth the gifts they have for the young couple.
Coming from a naturally generous and warm-hearted people these are
often not only useful but valuable, and prove a great help to the
newly established housekeepers.
Then, when the most exigent appetites have been more than satisfied,
the musicians, who have played at intervals throughout the
proceedings, strike up dance tunes, and the younger--and often older,
too--members of the party indulge in their favourite indoor
pastime--dancing.
Tyrolese peasant dances are many of them exceedingly picturesque and
quaint, if somewhat boisterous and lively in their performance. Both
the men and the girls in one or two of them beat time not only with
their feet but also by means of resounding thwacks on their thighs and
hips. And whilst the young men, clad in gay waistcoats, black velvet
or leather knee-breeches and high-crowned hats often of a delightful
shade of green felt, are getting more energetic, their partner's
short, full skirts during their top-like revolutions often ascend
waistward until the extent of shapely and sturdy limbs displayed
almost rivals that of a conventional ballet girl. Other dances of the
waltz, _dreher_, and _allemande_ type are more graceful, and less
"romping" in character. Dancing is carried on far into the night, and
it is a notable circumstance that although there is a good deal of
eating there is not often excessive drinking on these occasions, and
cases of actual drunkenness are very few and far between.
Several of the valleys--the Zillerthal, Iselthal, and Grödenerthal in
particular--have their own peculiar wedding customs. And in several,
as in parts of Germany, the old custom of stealing one of the garters
of the bride whilst she is seated at the wedding feast for the purpose
of cutting it up into mascots or souvenirs still obtains.
[Sidenote: TYROLESE SPORTS]
A love of sport of all kinds seems inherent to the Tyrolese nature;
and this in conjunction with the pure air and bracing climate in which
the people live, the strenuous struggle for existence with the forces
of Nature which is always going on amidst the higher valleys, not only
serves to keep the Tyrolese a hardy and vigorous race, but has much to
do with the special qualities of industry, religiousness, morality,
frugality, and straight-forwardness for which they have long been
distinguished.
Their athletic festivals parallel those of Westmorland, Cumberland,
and the Highland gatherings of our own land and the sports are to a
considerable extent similar in character. The most popular, however,
are undoubtedly shooting at a mark, or _Scheibenschiessen_ as they are
called, and wrestling.
The Tyrolese gun, usually a short-barrelled rifle, known as _stutz_,
has played an important part not only in the history of the nation,
but also in the domestic life of the people. In many of the more
remote valleys, in the past at least, it has deserved its name of the
bread-winner, for upon the game shot with it many a household has
largely subsisted; whilst from the skins of the deer, chamois and
other animals killed, articles of clothing are made. To the constant
use of the gun in all its evolutionary stages, from the flint-lock
musket down to the more modern rifle of to-day, the Tyrolese owe their
renown as being amongst the finest marksmen in Europe, a
characteristic which has counted so tremendously in their various
struggles with the invaders of their country.
Wrestling is popular throughout the Tyrolese valleys, but nowhere more
so than in the picturesque and romantic Zillerthal. The champion
wrestler of a village, as used to be the village "bruiser" with us, is
a person of importance who would not barter the distinction for love
nor money. The wrestlers are divided into three kinds, the "Roblar,"
"Mairraffer," and "Haggler," who follow the rules of different schools
of wrestling. In former times this love of the sport, or perhaps one
should say supremacy in it, frequently led to scenes of crime and
bloodshed. Often in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries noted
robbers and freebooters were those who had acquired great physical
powers as wrestlers, and in consequence took to brigandage as a means
of livelihood. Indeed, there are stories told of fair maidens in past
ages having been carried off from their betrothed by force, when the
rejected suitor (or perhaps the unknown rival who had set his heart on
a particular girl) had killed his rival in a wrestling bout. To prove
murderous intent under such circumstances was not only extremely
difficult but also somewhat against the "sporting" instinct of the
race, and the primeval idea that the woman should fall to the
strongest.
Bowling and the game of skittles are also favourite pastimes, and to
the latter especially several romantic stories attach. Indeed, even at
the present day one can find traces of the belief that the game is
also popular with the elves, gnomes, goblins, and "little folk" who
are supposed to dwell in or haunt certain mountains, woods, and
streams, only these supernatural folk mostly play with gold and silver
balls and skulls in the legends and folk tales one hears around the
firesides in Tyrolese chalets.
[Sidenote: A GHOSTLY LEGEND]
There is a strange story in connection with this game and the spirit
players attached to the now ruined and once strong and famous castle
of Starkenberg, which was destroyed by Frederick with the Empty Purse
in the fifteenth century.
Once, so the story goes, a pedlar was overtaken by darkness upon the
mountain side, and losing his way, he came to the ancient _schloss_,
in which he decided to take shelter for the night. He lay down on the
grassy floor of the ruined hall, and placing his pack beneath his head
went off to sleep. He slept for some hours and then was awakened by
the clock of a neighbouring village striking midnight. As the last
stroke reverberated amongst the rocks of the hillside he was
astonished to see twelve spectral figures clad in complete armour file
into the hall, and set to work to play a game of bowls, using skulls
in place of balls.
[Illustration: THE ORTLER FROM THE MALSER HEIDE]
Now it happened that the pedlar was not only a fine wrestler and a man
of great physical strength and courage (otherwise he would scarcely
perhaps have chosen a haunted ruin in which to pass the night), but
was the champion bowler of his native village. So he offered to pit
his skill against that of the spectral knights. His challenge was
accepted, and in the end he beat them all, and to his astonishment,
instead of disgust being shown at his victory, his prowess was hailed
with shouts of joy, and one of the spirits speaking to him said that
now they were released from purgatory, and then they all vanished.
Much mystified, the pedlar turned to see where they had disappeared
to, when his eyes were greeted by the sight of ten more men in armour,
who entered the hall by separate doors. After having carefully locked
the latter they all brought the keys to the pedlar, and entreated him
to try and discover the right one for each door. Nothing abashed he
undertook the task which was a difficult one owing to the fact that
each key, door, and ghostly visitant were exactly alike. He managed,
however, to accomplish his task successfully, and was overwhelmed by
the thanks of the spirits, who told him, as had their bowl-playing
counterparts, that he had by this feat released them from torment.
As was to be quite expected, it was now the devil's turn to appear
upon the scene, which he immediately did, roundly upbraiding the
pedlar for having thus robbed him of some of his victims, and
declaring that he (the devil) would now inevitably manage to gain the
pedlar's soul instead. The latter was not to be so easily disposed of,
however, and he offered to stake his soul upon a game of bowls to be
played between himself and the Evil One. Needless to say that the
latter was beaten, and when dawn came at length he fled away with a
horrible rushing of his bat-like wings, and his hot sulphurous breath
tainting the air, so that the grass was withered in places.
The pedlar was not likely to keep such an interesting experience to
himself, and so when in due course he came to the village, towards
which he was making his way when overtaken by nightfall, he told the
tale. The villagers amazed went to the ruined castle, and lo and
behold there was the scorched grass as the pedlar had declared.
It would be easy to quote other equally quaint and romantic stories
which are told in connection with the sports and pastimes of Tyrol,
but that of the pedlar and the ghostly knights or men-at-arms must
suffice. It will, at all events, serve to demonstrate how inextricably
interwoven are the threads of legendary lore and romance, even with
the commonplace daily life and amusements of this interesting people.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] In "Etrusker," Einl. 3, 10 _et seq._
[8] "Über die Urbewohner Rätiens und ihren Zusammenhang mit den
Etruskern."
[9] Or ornament.