THE ENVIRONS OF INNSBRUCK--CASTLE AMBRAS AND ITS
TREASURES--IGLS: A QUAINT LEGEND CONCERNING ITS CHURCH--THE
STUBAI VALLEY, AND SOME VILLAGES--HALL AND ITS SALT
MINES--SPECKBACHER'S OLD HOME--ST. MICHAEL
Distant from Innsbruck about three miles by a shady road running
eastward from Berg Isel, which forms a charming walk of a summer
afternoon, stands the famous Castle Ambras on a well-wooded spur of
the Mittelgebirge overlooking the wide Inn Valley, and with a fine
view of the slopes and peaked summits of the limestone mountains which
shut in the valley. It is a conspicuous and commanding feature of the
landscape when seen from the latter, its yellow-grey walls pierced
with many windows showing up against a background of dark-green
forest. But on a fine summer day Castle Ambras is too bare-looking and
insistent in colour to be entirely picturesque.
Long back, when the Romans held sway in Tyrol, on the site where the
castle now stands was placed a fort--one of those outposts of
civilization which that world-conquering power dotted so plentifully
amid the hills and valleys of Tyrol. Ancient as this fortress was, it
is considered by many authorities that even it replaced, or was
erected upon the foundations of, a far earlier building dating from
Etruscan times. The first castle, as is generally understood by the
term, was that built by the Andechs, who towards the end of the tenth
century were one of the three chief ruling families in Tyrol. Indeed,
until the Terriolis became Counts of Tyrol they were the most powerful
of the three great temporal territorial lords, and previous to their
extinction in the male line in the middle half of the thirteenth
century had acquired vast possessions. They were a typical mediæval
and feudal family, distinguished alike in the council and upon the
stricken field. In turn it provided officers of the Roman Empire,
pilgrims to sacred shrines, and to Rome itself, crusaders and
religious enthusiasts who founded important and wealthy monastical
institutions.
The history of the builders of the Castle of Ambras would fill many
volumes with incidents of brave and noble (and sometimes cruel and
ignoble) deeds; romantic episodes, which supplied the travelling
minnesingers with themes for their songs; and records of stirring
events, in which national as well as family history became entwined.
Of them one historian has written, "they were esteemed upon earth,
more particularly by the wandering minstrels who were always and at
all times welcome to their hospitable roof and table, and beloved in
Heaven to which they contributed several saintly souls."
On the death of the last of the male line of the Andechs, Duke Otto
II., in 1248, the castle and the family estates passed into the
possession of the Counts of Tyrol. Ultimately the former was purchased
from the then owners by the Emperor Ferdinand I., and was given to his
son, afterwards Ferdinand II., when the latter was appointed Regent of
Tyrol. It always remained his favourite home, even when he became
Emperor, and it was to this castle that he brought his beautiful bride
Philippine Welser in 1567.
[Sidenote: AN ARCHDUCAL ROMANCE]
The true story of the love of the Archduke Ferdinand, son of the
German Emperor Ferdinand I., will probably never be accurately known.
But the event is indissolubly bound up with Tyrolese history. Not
unnaturally the idyllic and romantic circumstances surrounding the
marriage have been much overlaid by tradition and the possible desire
of historians to make this Royal mésalliance yet more astonishing.
Therefore it is impossible to vouch for the entire accuracy of the
story that has come down to us, which we give as it may be gathered
from contemporary and more modern writers.
[Sidenote: STORY OF PHILIPPINE WELSER]
The meeting of the Archduke Ferdinand and his future wife--who was the
daughter of one Franz Welser, a wealthy merchant prince of Augsburg in
the middle of the sixteenth century--took place when the Archduke
accompanied his father on the occasion of the latter's state entry
into the city. It was whilst passing along the principal street that
the former noticed at a window of one of the larger and more important
houses the face of a most beautiful young girl, who, after having
thrown flowers down in the street, on seeing that she had attracted
his attention, blushingly disappeared within the house. It was
apparently, so far as Ferdinand was concerned, a case of love at first
sight; for, charmed by her beautiful face, he lost no time in
discovering who she was, and, according to some authorities, saw her
on several occasions whilst in the city. Afterwards he paid court to
her whilst she was at Bresnic, in Bohemia, on a visit to an aunt.
Philippine was already betrothed by her father to the heir of the
great and wealthy Fugger family; but fortunately for her and the young
prince, Philippine's mother was a woman of much influence with her
husband as well as the confidante and friend of her daughter. However,
it was not an easy task to win his consent to the betrothal to Prince
Ferdinand or for the proposed alliance with the Fuggers to be broken
off.
Both the fathers were anxious for it, and Welser had never been known
to go back upon his word or a bargain. But whilst the older men were
engaged in counting their wealth, and congratulating themselves upon
the marriage which had been arranged with little or no thought of
affection between those most concerned, Ferdinand had evolved a plan
by which, with the assistance and connivance of Frau Welser, he was
able to accomplish his design of carrying off her daughter.
On a day arranged, and at the hour agreed upon, the young prince, who
was two years Philippine's junior, appeared beneath the turret from
which he had first seen her leaning. A little distance down the street
his horse was waiting. Philippine, after receiving her mother's
blessing, and comforted by her approval, joined her lover, and fled
with him to the chapel where the latter's own confessor, one Joann
Cavallerus, was waiting to solemnize the marriage, with an old and
trusted servant as witness. Another account states that the ceremony
was performed at Bresnic by the same priest.
Ultimately, Franz Welser, to whom doubtless a properly carried out
marriage with a prince had some attractions, gave his consent and
benediction. It is difficult, perhaps, in these more materialistic
days, to quite sympathize with the attitude which this wealthy and
worthy burgher of Augsburg at first assumed towards his daughter's
marriage. Then, with reputable merchants, not only was their word
their bond, but in them was a strong element of pride which would not
readily brook that they should be looked down upon even by princes.
And doubtless it was this pride which was principally at the back of
old Welser's opposition to Prince Ferdinand's suit. But the
magnificent dowry that Philippine's father was rich enough to give her
was one of which no prince need have been ashamed.
At the time of his marriage the Archduke was twenty-eight and
Philippine two years older. The Emperor, of course, refused to
acknowledge the marriage when he ultimately, some years after its
celebration, became aware of it. And although we are bound to admit
the story of Philippine's personal appeal to him to forgive his son
and her rests on a very shadowy basis, and is, indeed, rather
traditional than historical, we give it for what it is worth.
The story goes that Philippine, distressed not only for her own
position but for the trouble she had brought upon her husband by
estranging him from his father the Emperor, journeyed to Vienna with
her little children to gain an audience with her royal father-in-law
in person. To do this was a matter of great difficulty, and though she
ultimately succeeded, it was only by reason of her great beauty and
her gentleness, and the fact that she had assumed another name. Then,
after entering the audience chamber, she fell upon her knees and told
the Emperor her own story in the guise of an allegory, saying that she
was the happy and beloved wife of a gallant nobleman of great position
whose father would not recognize her because she was herself not nobly
born; adding that, hearing how just and good the Emperor was, she had
come to him to implore him to intercede for her and her sons with her
obdurate father-in-law. Having listened to her tale the Emperor,
delighted with the grace, eloquence, and beauty of Philippine and with
her two sons, told her that he would grant her request and would
appeal to her father-in-law to not only forgive his son, but to
recognize the marriage, adding that it passed his comprehension how
any one could refuse to receive so charming and beautiful a woman into
his family. Then, as was to be expected, he asked the name of her
husband's father. And she, throwing herself once more upon her knees,
told the Emperor that it was he himself to whom she had referred, and
that she was the wife of his son Ferdinand.
The Emperor could scarcely go back upon his word nor could he stultify
himself by denying the charm and beauty of Philippine now that he
discovered who she really was; and won over by the courage and
persistency which had inspired her journey to Vienna to seek to
approach him in person, he not only forgave his son but also
recognized her as a daughter-in-law. Some accounts, although this is
probably not so, state that he wished the marriage still to remain a
secret, and appointed Ferdinand Regent of Tyrol, sending him and his
wife to reside at Innsbruck.[14]
The Emperor's wishes were carried out, and it is said that it was not
until her death generally known that Philippine was actually married
to the Archduke. After her decease, however, the circumstance was made
public and the Archduke was always accustomed to refer to Philippine
as his wife. Of course the marriage was a morganatic one, and
therefore neither of her two surviving children, Andreas and Charles,
inherited the Archducal titles.
Four years previous to the Archduke Ferdinand's coming to take up his
residence at Innsbruck as Regent of Tyrol he had acquired the
picturesque and finely situated Castle of Ambras, and by many
alterations and additions to the then existing building soon made it
one of the most noted as well as one of the most beautiful residences
in the whole country. He furnished it with great magnificence, and
when all was completed presented it to his wife Philippine. Here they
usually spent the summer months in a happiness which was not only
proverbial but undoubted.
As have been several other rulers of Tyrol, the Archduke Ferdinand was
not only greatly interested himself in art, science, and literature,
but he sought as the patron of these to gather around his person and
to attach to his Court learned professors, artists, and scientists
from all parts of Europe. As a result the court of Ferdinand and
Philippine grew from an artistic, musical, and intellectual standpoint
to be a particularly brilliant one.
[Sidenote: CHARACTER OF PHILIPPINE]
The character of Philippine seems to have been as pleasing as was her
physical appearance. She is said to have had a fine, clear, though
somewhat pale, complexion, blue eyes, and golden hair, although it
must be added that existing portraits of her do not do her justice in
the latter regard, unless her beauty was greatly exaggerated. In most
of them she appears with a slightly oval, and more Italian than
Teutonic type of face, with well-marked and well-bowed eyebrows, soft,
but intelligent eyes, a straight nose, and a very sweet, and even in
some portraits "roguish," mouth; but as a whole her face is not one of
striking beauty, judging it by the standards of more modern times.
Philippine, when settled at Ambras, greatly interested herself in good
works of all kinds, but more especially in the visiting and care of
the sick, and the memory of her good deeds in this respect is still
cherished in Tyrol. Her chief physician has set down the large number
of sick who were at various times under her immediate care, and in the
record one finds mention of ailing folk of many nationalities, showing
her Catholic spirit in the relief of suffering. She even had her own
dispensary at Ambras in the charge of one Guranta, who was a
celebrated chemist of that time. Concerning her one of her biographers
says, "She, herself delicate in health from early life, had a strong
and ever ready sympathy for sufferers, especially those who were
distressed in mind or circumstance as well as in body."
During the years she lived at Ambras she gained such a knowledge of
disease and the remedies usually employed in those days that she wrote
a book of prescriptions herself, which is now to be seen in the Court
Library, Vienna. It is a most interesting volume, as it contains a
considerable record of the effects of the remedies used; sometimes
written by Philippine's own hand with remarks added as comments upon
the success or failure of the treatment.
Philippine was in other ways also of a philanthropic and kindly
disposition, and on many occasions girls in her service, or who were
known to her, received the pleasant surprise on their marriage of a
wedding dress from her; and there is still to be seen at Innsbruck a
dressmaker's bill, the total amount of which is largely comprised of
wedding dresses given in the way we have mentioned.
Although the burgomaster's daughter, according to her own confession,
would rather have led a less exalted and more retiring life than that
incumbent upon her by reason of her marriage with the Archduke
Ferdinand, all writers are agreed that she ably and well adorned the
position to which she had been called. Of her husband's great
affection for her there can be little doubt. Indeed, it was so
notorious that the Venetian Ambassador Michiele, when on a visit to
the Archduke, reported to his Government that Ferdinand was never so
happy as when with his wife, and in fact was never an hour away from
her.
Philippine, in spite of her many social duties and exalted position,
was an excellent and even an ideal German _haus-frau_. She was a
clever needlewoman, skilled especially in embroidery; and quite an
expert and practical cook. She might, indeed, be said to have rivalled
the famous Mrs. Glass, as she wrote an exhaustive cookery book which
displays a great and practical knowledge of the culinary art, and is,
happily for the curious, preserved with her book of prescriptions in
the Court Library at Vienna.
Nothing was too good for Philippine in the estimation of the Archduke.
Not only did he give her the magnificent Schloss Ambras, Stubai
Valley, and all it contained, several villages, and vast sums of
money, but also the estates of Königsberg, Salurn, and Hörtenberg.
[Sidenote: COURT AT CASTLE AMBRAS]
The Court at Innsbruck and at Castle Ambras was a gay one, and
numerous brilliant entertainments were given during the married life
of Ferdinand and Philippine. Amongst the many _fêtes_ which took place
at various times one finds a record of one in the diary of James von
Payersberg bearing the date of July 13, 1570, in which there is a
record of Philippine having won the first prize, which was a silver
gilt cup of great value, for shooting with a crossbow; whilst her
aunt, Madame De Loxan, who on Philippine's marriage had been appointed
as her Mistress of the Robes, won the second. An interesting
circumstance in connection with this _fête_ is that the gentlemen and
ladies competed together in the shooting match, with the result that
the former were defeated in the manner we have stated.
At Castle Ambras not only were there collected together scientists,
artists, musicians, and many learned men, but also, as was the custom
of those days, jesters, and "freaks" of various types, whose curious
divergences from the normal have many of them been preserved in
portraits hung in the Castle. Of ordinary servants, retainers, pages,
etc., there was always a huge retinue entailing an enormous
expenditure and a commissariat department of considerable magnitude.
Philippine, although her natural tastes were so divergent from those
of her husband who loved gaiety, sport, and the pomp of circumstance,
by her gentleness, affectionate study of his wishes and great
tactfulness, succeeded in not only gaining but keeping his affection
throughout their married life. It is said that Philippine, whether the
story of her captivation of her royal father-in-law's heart be true or
not, was gladly and very generally received by the Tyrol nobles, who
were distinguished not only by their chivalrous but also by their
generally haughty disposition. Very friendly relations also appear to
have existed with neighbouring courts, whilst Pope Gregory XIII. had
so high an opinion of Philippine's religious sincerity and virtues
that he sent her by special ambassador a beautiful and very valuable
rosary.
Philippine died in 1580, surrounded by members of her family, and in
the presence of the Archduke Ferdinand and the Dukes Ferdinand of
Bavaria and Henry of Brunswick, after a married life lasting
twenty-three years, and an illness of only a few days' duration. So
beloved was she throughout Tyrol that general mourning was observed
for some months, and masses were said in all the churches of the land
for the repose of her soul. How great the affection borne her by the
people amongst whom she came to live really was, is well shown by the
fact that in many a cottage home in Tyrol portraits of her even
nowadays are found.
In death as in life she was mindful of her people and of the poor; and
when she had been laid to rest in the Silver Chapel of the Franciscan
Church at Innsbruck, where her beautiful though unostentatious tomb,
with its recumbent figure lying within a semi-circular arch and with a
crucifix hanging from her crossed hands, is placed, it was found that
in her will few of her household had been forgotten, whether their
positions were high or menial.
The death of Philippine was a heavy blow to the Archduke, and for some
months after the event he lived in complete retirement, seeing no one
but his two sons, his Father Confessor, and his most intimate personal
friends.
However, after his grief had somewhat spent itself, he set out on a
tour, accompanied by his two surviving children; one of whom, Karl,
became Bishop of Brixen and a Cardinal (died 1600); the other,
Andreas, Markgrave of Burgau (died 1618), and the owner of Castle
Ambras by the will of his father. This bequest was made on condition
that Andreas maintained and kept the building in repair, and preserved
the magnificent collection of rare MSS., books, pictures, coins,
armour, and other _objets d'art_, and curiosities which Ferdinand and
Philippine had delighted to gather, and in the possession of which
they had taken such pride.
Eventually, in 1606, so that this wish of his father might be
adequately carried out, Andreas disposed of the Castle and grounds to
the Emperor Rudolf II., and by this means Ambras and its unrivalled
collection came into the possession of the Imperial Austrian family.
[Sidenote: TREASURES OF CASTLE AMBRAS]
Just two centuries later, owing to fear lest the priceless treasures
should fall into the hands of the French and Bavarian invaders, the
greater portion of the Ambras collection was removed to Vienna, and at
first lodged in the Belvidere Palace from whence it has of recent
years been transferred to the Imperial Art History Museum of which it
forms a most interesting and valuable part. Thus was Tyrol robbed of
one of its chief glories, and although at various times promises of
restitution have been made they have never been fulfilled.
There are still, however, some interesting things left at Castle
Ambras, including the valuable collection of Weapons lodged in the
Unterschloss, dating from the fifteenth century to the present day
(formerly, in the sixteenth century, it is said that the Armoury
contained no less than five hundred complete suits of mail); the eight
Roman milestones in the outer court, found along the road from Wilten
to Schonberg, and dating from the time of Septimus Severus about 193
to 211 A.D.; and the collection of furniture, ivories, glass, and
portraits, which latter include several of the Archduke Ferdinand and
Philippine Welser, etc.
On the ground floor of the Hoch Schloss or "upper castle" is an
interesting and well-restored fifteenth-century Gothic chapel, with
some frescoes by Wörndle; and a bathroom, said to be that of
Philippine, is on the same floor. It was around this little room that
tradition wove the tragic story (since disproved and altogether
discredited) of Philippine having committed suicide by opening one of
her veins in order that her husband might re-marry with some one whose
rank was more in conformity with his own. For many years, for several
generations, in fact, this tale was given credence, and was accepted
by at least the common folk as exemplifying the domestic virtues for
which Philippine was justly famed. But although Ferdinand's mother
appears never to have accepted the position or to have become
reconciled to Philippine, the rest of the members of his family appear
to have treated her well, and, so far as history can show, there never
was any reason for the sacrifice of her life she was for so long
supposed to have made, in the interests of her husband's happiness and
position.
The fame of Philippine Welser has outlived the centuries which have
elapsed since she died; and the burgher of Augsburg's daughter was
destined to become one of the most popular of Tyrolese heroines; and
there is in consequence many a peasant home in Tyrol to-day where her
portrait in some form of reproduction or other has a place with that
of some favourite saint or even the Virgin herself.
There are several other traditions connected with this beautifully
situated Castle of Ambras. One is that Wallenstein, whilst a lad and a
page in Ferdinand's service, fell out of the window in the corridor
which leads to the dining-hall and received no hurt, owing to the fact
that during the terrible moment when he lost his balance he vowed to
the Virgin Mary if spared he would lead a more serious and better
life.
The castle, as did so many historic fortress-dwellings in Tyrol,
gradually fell into decay; but when the Archduke Karl Ludwig, who was
Governor of Tyrol during a short period in the middle of the last
century, decided to take up his residence here it was thoroughly
repaired and restored. The Art treasures, which remained after the
removal of the main collections to Vienna, have been supplemented from
time to time by contributions from the Imperial collections in Vienna,
and in 1882 the Emperor threw open the castle to the public as a
Museum.
Of the many interesting rooms at Ambras two never fail to arouse the
admiration and curiosity of visitors. The first is the Waffensaal, in
which there is a collection of armour and arms, which has a
sixteenth-century ceiling painted by G. B. Fontana, of Meran, with
astronomical and mythological designs; the second, the famous and
magnificently proportioned Spanish salon, with its exquisitely
panelled wood ceiling and walls adorned with frescoes of the rulers of
Tyrol, from 1221-1600.
The view from the terrace, with its trellis of passion flowers and
vines, across the Inn valley on a clear summer's day is one of great
charm and beauty, and as one gazes across the fertile valley to the
wonderful range of mountains that towers above it, the colours of
which seem to change with every passing cloud, one can realize
something of the affection Ferdinand, art lover and artist as he
undoubtedly was, always had for Castle Ambras.
[Sidenote: THE TOURNEY GROUND]
None who come to the castle should fail to visit the picturesque and
secluded Tummel-platz or Tourney ground, which overhangs as it were
the village of Ambras, with its ancient church and quaint frescoes of
the Last Judgment. On this spot during Ferdinand and Philippine's
occupation of the Castle many jousts and knightly encounters are said
to have taken place. From the gay and chivalrous use of those and
previous times the Tummel-platz has passed to a melancholy one as the
burial-ground of patriots and heroes. It was first put to this purpose
when the Castle was turned into a military hospital--which for a short
time it remained--and afterwards as the burial-place of some seven or
eight thousand of Hofer's soldiers who fell in the wars with France
and Bavaria, from 1809 to 1810. Indeed, it actually formed part of the
battle-ground of 1809.
As is perfectly natural, and in accord with the patriotic and
religious spirit of the people, they have adorned the quiet and
beautiful burial-ground with chapels, shrines, votive pictures, and
memorials which confer upon it a distinctive and impressive interest,
and sentiment which few such places can show. As a poet sings--
"Near Ambras, on the upland,
In fair Tyrolean land,
Within a cool green forest
Full thick the crosses stand.
"There gallant knights in armour
Once met with spear and shield,
And from those olden combats
'Tis called the 'Tourney Field.'
"Long rusted are the lances,
But, as the breezes blow,
Old, half-forgotten stories
Like spirits come and go."
From Castle Ambras it is but a short journey by tramway to Igls, which
is situated nearly a thousand feet above Innsbruck, but cannot be seen
from the town. There are also two roads by which one may reach this
little mountain village; one leading past Ambras, which is favoured by
the less energetic of walkers, and the other, by which we ascended,
much steeper, more picturesque and shorter. From Wilten it passes over
the Sill Bridge and then ascends the Paschberg and winds along the
edge of the fine Sill Gorge. When the little village of Vill is
reached one seems suddenly to step into a fresh region of experience;
one singularly different from that of Innsbruck, which, after all,
lies but a mile or two away in the valley down below. Here as one
comes in sight of the elegantly tapering red spire of the church one
obtains an insight into the life of the upper valleys, and soon
notices the Tyrolese custom of adorning the outside walls of the house
with paintings, which, generally religious in subject, are many of
them of a striking and even meritorious character as regards
execution. In Vill none should fail to notice the painting of the
Angel of Peace, which is over the doorway of a house in the main
street.
[Sidenote: BEAUTIFUL IGLS]
One of the most beautiful walks hereabouts is that by the path which
leads down through the woods to Gärberbach inn on the great Brenner
High Road, from which point Berg Isel can be reached on foot in less
than half an hour.
Still climbing upwards from Vill and leaving the sights and sounds of
the valley behind us we gradually approach Igls. Innsbruck and every
trace of the wide valley and environing hills across it have suddenly
vanished, and one finds one's self in the midst of wide extending and
restfully green upland pastures, with a vista of the charmingly
situated little villages of Natters and Mutters, across the Sill Gorge
(which here is almost imperceptible) with their church steeples, green
tinged and red turreted, shining in the clear Alpine air, and giving
to the scene just that touch of colour which an artist loves.
It is possible in Alpine valleys such as that in which Igls nestles to
more truly estimate the factors which make the Tyrolese such a
home-loving and patriotic people; and to realize how the chief human
as well as religious associations even nowadays--as they did in the
past--cluster round the village churches which rear their slender
spires Heavenwards almost wherever half a dozen houses are grouped
together.
There are many splendid peaks towering above the picturesque valley in
which Igls lies; amongst them the Habicht, more than 10,700 feet,
Saile-Spitze, and the rugged Waldraster-Spitze, 8920 feet; and the
lower slopes are well-wooded and beautiful at all seasons in their
varied tints of green.
Igls has altered considerably since we first visited it, and it now
has the aspect of a mountain health "resort" of a modest and
unassuming type, with some good hotels, a post office, telephone and
telegraph. It is little wonder, then, that this favoured spot should
have lately attracted to it many visitors in search of quietude and
fresh air. The clean air and pure breezes off the glaciers and
snow-fields above, which, filtering down across the pine woods of the
lower slopes, come to one in the open valley not less fresh and
invigorating but somewhat softened and perfumed, give it one of its
chief charms.
The little church is of considerable interest, not only from its
picturesque situation, but also by reason of the pastoral scenes which
are painted upon its organ loft, and the many quaint relics and votive
offerings to be seen in it, which are a feature of so many Tyrolese
village churches. The mural paintings on the houses in the village are
numerous and curious, some of the most interesting relating to the
legendary story of the Heilig Wasser. In connection with this there is
a pilgrimage chapel picturesquely situated, in almost absolute
solitude save for the Inn, on the mountain side more than two thousand
feet above the valley.
[Sidenote: A MIRACULOUS TALE]
The church is built upon the site of the alleged miracle, the story
concerning which is as follows:--Three centuries ago two cowherds were
tending their flocks upon the upper pasture above Igls, when they were
unfortunate enough to lose two young calves; and although they sought
for them far and wide along the paths and amid the woods they failed
to find them. At length, quite wearied out, and frightened lest they
should be severely punished for their carelessness by their father,
they fell on their knees and supplicated the Virgin and Saints to help
them. Almost as soon as they commenced to pray a bright light fell
upon them and round about, and the Virgin appearing beside them bade
them be of good cheer, and told them to trouble no more as the lost
cattle had gone home to their byre. Then she bade them drink, for
their throats were parched with their wanderings. But the two lads,
knowing there was no water near, exclaimed, "You tell us to drink, but
where shall we find water? There is none here."
[Illustration: MOUNTAIN POOL ON THE RITTEN]
The Virgin made no reply but vanished; and as she disappeared from
their vision there welled up, where she had stood, a spring of clear
water from out the rocks, which has never ceased to flow since.
On their return home the boys refrained from saying anything about the
vision or the miraculous spring, perhaps lest, notwithstanding the
calves had been found in the cowshed as the Virgin had promised, they
should be blamed for careless herding. But they never failed, when
passing by the spring, to offer up a prayer of gratitude.
Many years passed and the two cowherds not only grew to man's estate
but became old and infirm, needing the assistance of others to look
after their flocks. One of the two was aided by the deaf and dumb son
of a neighbour, and one day, as the old man and boy were passing the
spring, the former knelt down and prayed and drank of the water. The
boy seeing him do this did likewise, and lo and behold he found his
tongue miraculously loosened, and afterwards spoke as clearly as any
other.
The fame of the miracle spread abroad, and was readily believed by the
people of the valley. Then the two old men told their own experience,
and soon a chapel was built on the spot to which through the centuries
many devout pilgrims as well as many curious visitors have journeyed.
Amid the woods by which Igls is surrounded, and along the fertile
valley in which the village stands, are many charming walks, and
yearly the place is becoming more resorted to by those who appreciate
the lovely and bracing mountain air, and a very pleasant form of what
has become known as the "simple life."
To the south-west of Igls and south of Innsbruck across the Sill is
the lovely Stubai Valley, the beauty of which almost challenges that
of the Oetzthal. Like the latter this valley is also verily the gate
to the land of snow-fields and glaciers, of which there are upwards of
eighty within its confines and hard by. The Stubai Thal is a
combination of scenery of widely different character. Within a radius
of a few miles, towering above its green and peaceful pastures, at
least two score of magnificent peaks rear their heads skyward, none of
which fall far short of (whilst many exceed) 10,000 feet in altitude.
The lower portion of the valley is reminiscent of the far-famed,
music-loving Zillerthal, with its dark-green pine forests, fertile
meadows, and villages perched here and there on the slopes of the
mountains, or nestling in the valley itself around the white-walled
churches. This kind of scenery extends some little way beyond the
village of Neustift, which is the last in the valley having a church,
and then one seems to at once pass into a mysterious, wonderful, and
fascinating region, where the legendary gnomes and ice-maidens of
Tyrolean folk-tales and lore must surely dwell in caverns and
habitations of perpetual ice and snow.
Though there is a good mountain road winding up the hillside above
Wilten, which in former times served the picturesque villages Natters,
Mutters, Kreith, and Telfes, most travellers nowadays use the electric
railway (the first made in Tyrol) for the journey to Fulpmes, which
lies about half-way to Neustift and is rapidly becoming a favourite
excursion resort for Innsbruck people.
The railway (although it has been called a "toy" one) presents
considerable features of interest to the engineer, and elements of
apparent--but not actual--danger to the timorous. At least, one lady
we know who had made the upward journey, had been across the slender
viaduct supported on tapering piers, and had been whirled round curves
of astonishing "sharpness," refused--until the distance by road had
been pointed out to her--to return the same way. But there is in
reality no risk on the Stubai Bahn, only an element of pleasant
excitement, and the charm of wonderful scenery; and the latter is so
beautiful and the little saloon cars so well adapted for viewing that
few will, after all, we think, regret travelling to Fulpmes by
train instead of a-foot or by carriage. The place was formerly
celebrated for its iron and steel works; the articles made finding
their way not only to Austria, but also to Germany and Italy; and
although of late years the trade appears to have somewhat declined, it
is still considerable and of interest to the curious who can watch the
skilful artisans at work. The village is most picturesquely situated,
and in the church there are some paintings by a local peasant girl
quite worth seeing. Fulpmes forms an excellent centre from which to
make excursions in the upper portions of the lovely valley, and amid
the wooded slopes of the environing mountains. In summer there is the
additional charm of the wealth of beautiful wild flowers which gem the
fields, and spread like a many-coloured carpet of glowing tints
beneath the shadow-casting and sombre pines.
[Illustration: VIADUCT ON STUBAI RAILWAY]
[Illustration: VIEW OF THE GROSSGLOCKNER]
[Sidenote: FULPMES AND SCHONBERG]
At Schonberg, south of Igls, and on the opposite bank of the Sill,
standing nearly 3500 feet above sea level, one obtains a most
widely-extended and panoramic view of the Stubai Valley and its
villages. And as one stands in the Alpine observatory near the
"Jagerhof," one is able to realize the full beauty of the valley, and
the wonder of the mountain summits, including the Serles Spitz (also
known in Innsbruck as the Waldraster Spitz), whose rugged peaks remind
one of those giants in the Dolomites.
But perhaps one of the most strange and interesting natural phenomena
in all Tyrol is to be seen from Schonberg when the snow-fields, which
in winter completely cover the mountain tops on every hand, begin to
melt. Then gradually there appear in different parts of the upper
slopes of the mountain ranges dark spots which, framed in unmelted
snow, at last assume the appearance of silhouettes of gigantic size.
On the peaks away above Innsbruck are slowly formed the figures of two
women who appear to be fighting, and whose noses as the snow melts
become more hooked and longer each day; on the Solstein a priest is
seen carrying an _aspergillus_ in his hand, whilst on the
Arzletscharte appears the most complete "picture" of them all, known
as the "Falconer." This, a silhouette of remarkable vividness, depicts
a youth dressed in a page's costume, adorned with a hat and plumes,
and carrying on his left arm a falcon unhooded for flight. As the snow
melts the figure loses its pristine slimness and assumes the form of a
corpulent man, until at last it entirely disappears. On the side of
the Patscherkofel is seen the figure of an old hunter with his dog;
which, however, owing to the rapid melting of the snow when once a
thaw commences, is only visible for a short time. Indeed, a few hours
after we first saw it, for the reason we have given, the change was so
great that the outline was almost destroyed.
Hall, from time immemorial famous for its salt mines, is well worth a
visit. Lying on the north or opposite side of the Inn to Igls, and to
the east of Innsbruck, it can be reached either by the prosaic
post-road which traverses the Valley, or from Igls by the beautiful
Ellbögen road--a branch of the Brenner road dating from Roman
times--passing over the Mittelgebirge and through Igls, Lans, Aldrans,
Ampass, across the bridge over the Inn to Hall, which is somewhat
longer. Equally picturesque, perhaps one might say even more so, is
yet another road (the one we preferred) which skirts the lower slopes
of the towering peaks of the Bavarian Alps, and passes through the
villages of Arzl, Rum, and Thaur. There are also the alternatives of
the Brenner railway, and the tramway for those who are poor walkers or
are pressed for time.
[Sidenote: SOME PRETTY VILLAGES]
From Mühlau onwards one has most exquisite views of the broad and
fertile valley, and the magnificent mountains which tower above the
wooded slopes, swelling gently upward from the Inn, in wild and craggy
peaks of rugged beauty. This walk is rendered additionally attractive
and picturesque for all who are interested in folk-lore, or who are
able to enter into the legend and religion of the people, by the
pilgrimage chapels which are found along the route. One of the most
charming of these in all Tyrol is that of Arzl, which, standing on a
wooded knoll, is brilliant with colour, a gem of its kind in a
charming setting of dark green. The little church of Maria Loreto
built by the religiously inclined Anna Katharina Gonzaga, second wife
of Ferdinand II., was once a famous pilgrimage place, but of late
years has been much less resorted to than formerly. The interior is,
however, well worth inspection. The wood carvings and iron work are
both interesting, as are also the old engravings which hang upon the
walls, and the curious black Virgin and Child upon the Altar.
Arzl, Rum, and Thaur are all picturesquely situated, nestling as they
do on the lower slopes of the great limestone peaks, the first named
standing at the foot of the Burgstall which rises majestically to a
height of nearly three thousand five hundred feet. Many of the houses
in these three villages are most elaborately decorated with mural
paintings; in some instances the whole of the fronts are so adorned,
and often masses of corn hang on trellis work on the walls. The effect
of the brilliant tints of the paintings and the coloured window frames
gives an additionally picturesque air to the little villages. Seen in
summer the gay effect is perhaps a little neutralized, but in winter,
when the landscape is more cheerless and there is a background of snow
and grey-green rocks, the picture formed is a unique and wonderfully
cheering one.
Concerning Thaur, where so many houses have either a painting or an
image of a man with a bear upon their fronts, there is a legend of St.
Romedius, who centuries ago came riding into the village blessed with
a keen appetite gained by exercise in the invigorating mountain air.
Whilst the saint was engaged in satisfying his hunger, a wandering
bear, so the legend goes, was so impressed with the holy man's
accomplishment in this respect that he promptly (for want of other
food) emulated it by eating Romedius' horse. On coming out to renew
his journey the Saint was astounded at the disappearance of his steed.
He, however, seems to have guessed what had happened, and forthwith
preached the bear such a sermon upon his iniquitous conduct that he
was not only moved to penitence, but also sought to make amends by
offering himself as a substitute for the Saint's former steed.
Although the proposal might appear to us as accompanied with some
considerable risk when the bear once more became hungry, the Saint
accepted it, and ultimately set forth on his strange steed to a cave
in the mountains north of Thaur, where they lived for some
considerable time without mishap. One day, however, as the holy man
slept, a troublesome fly came buzzing round his head, and the sleeper
failed to drive it away, with the result that the bear (who we are
told had all this time watched over his master with great solicitude)
came to the rescue and sought to get rid of it; however, without
success. The fly returned again and again to the charge, and the bear
in desperation aiming a blow at the fly, alas! struck and killed the
Saint. This time the grief of the bear was, of course, of no avail, so
he would eat nothing and gradually pined away, ultimately dying of
hunger.
This story, though it has its comical side, is not, however, held to
be disrespectful to the life and character of Romedius, who is one of
the best esteemed Tyrolese saints. It appears more than probable,
however, that Romedius (whether killed by his companion the bear or
not) actually died in the Nonsthal, South Tyrol, where there are,
strange to say, villages of somewhat similar names to those we have
mentioned, namely, Torro, Rumo, and Arz.
[Illustration: THE MARKET PLACE, HALL]
[Sidenote: HALL AND ITS MÜNSTERTURM]
Hall, which is one of the most picturesque, busy, and interesting
little towns in the neighbourhood of Innsbruck, with some 6000
inhabitants, dates from the time of the Roman occupation of Tyrol. By
the well-known historian, Beda Weber, the name is stated to have been
derived from the Greek word [Greek: halos], salt; the reason for such
derivation from an unlikely language he does not, however, in any way
seek to explain. As one enters the town one is at once struck by the
strange and quaint mingling of the picturesque with the utilitarian,
the rural with the mediæval. Long before one reaches the town one sees
in the distance the greenish copper cupolas of the Pfaarkirche or
Parish Church which has so fine a Gothic portal and interesting
relics, around whose walls shops are grouped; and rising above the
other less lofty and less time-mellowed buildings, the massive Gothic
tower known as the Münsterturm with its red "pepper-box" roof of Roman
origin, although the present tower was built by Duke Sigismund, the
famous son of Frederick of the Empty Purse. A steeply ascending street
leads to the market square, in which the Pfaarkirche and Rathaus stand
opposite each other. And in this and contiguous streets there are many
quaint balconies, gabled roofs, and old-time architectural features to
interest and charm the artist and antiquarian visitor.
Although Hall has somewhat declined as a commercial centre with the
rise of its big neighbour, Innsbruck, it is still a place of
considerable activity on account, chiefly, of the famous salt mines.
In former times these and its position on the banks of the Inn (then
much more navigable) gave the place importance under the rule of the
Counts of Tyrol, and the earlier of the Austrian princes; many barges
and boats from the Danube itself in former times making their way into
the Inn and thence to the flourishing town of Hall. The salt works
still remain its principal industry. Hall is, as things go in Tyrol, a
distinctly smoky town; but it is seldom that the smoke hangs in the
clear and fresh Alpine air which sweeps along the Inn valley down
from the environing hills.
The Münsterturm, mint tower, which, as we have said, is so prominent
an object on approaching the town, is of historical interest from the
fact that it was built to enable Duke Sigismund, known as the Rich, to
turn into coin his great store of silver taken from the Tyrol
mountains. It was from this tower, too, that Andreas Hofer issued his
Kreuzer and twenty Kreuzer pieces during the period of his brief
dictatorship.
As was the case with many another Tyrolean town, Hall suffered in the
past from the calamities which afflicted so many similar places in the
Middle Ages. It was swept in turn by fire, sword, and pestilence, and
shaken to its foundations by the earthquake which occurred in 1670. So
severe was the shock, we are told, that the watchman on the parapet of
the church tower was thrown off and killed by falling to the ground,
and the people fled out of their houses to the open fields where their
priests exhorted them to prepare for the Day of Judgment. That the
alarm created was very great is borne out by the fact that, although
the loss of life would appear from contemporary sources of information
to have been slight, for some time afterwards the services of the
church were all performed in the open air. Hall, however, chiefly on
account of its salt mine resources, recovered, and these and the many
privileges the burghers enjoyed enabled them in time to regain their
former prosperity.
The town played an important part in the various wars which had Tyrol
for their battleground during the Middle Ages; and during the
Patriotic War the people of Hall were not less brave and
self-sacrificing than those of other places. One gallant deed in
especial of that long struggle for freedom is directly connected with
the town. In May, 1809, Joseph Speckbacher (who was born on a
Gnadenwald farm near Hall in 1767) and his troops attacked the
Bavarians at Volders, near Hall, and after blowing up the bridge
behind him he marched to the relief of the latter town, which was held
by the Bavarian troops. These had artillery, and were also numerically
stronger and better armed, so that the task set before the patriot
force was no slight one. Happily, Speckbacher became aware that the
Bavarians were short of ammunition, and therefore when a truce was
proposed he refused to agree to it. The Bavarians after, as they
thought, completely destroying the Hall bridge, which they held as
well as the town, retreated. Calling upon his men to follow him,
Speckbacher led them boldly on to the then dangerous and tottering
structure, entered the town and pursued the Bavarians.
[Sidenote: AN INTERESTING CHURCH]
In the churchyard is an interesting wooden crucifix carved by Joseph
Stocker in 1691, as well as some monuments of the principal Hall
families of former times. The church itself should be visited, if only
for the "Salvator Mundi" by Albrecht Durer painted on a panel, and the
high altar-piece by a pupil of the master Reubens, named Erasmus
Quillinus. One of the chapels, the Waldaufische, was built in 1493 by
Florian von Waldauf, who, originally a peasant boy, entered the
Imperial Army and ultimately became one of the confidential advisers
of the Emperor Frederick and his son, afterwards Maximilian I. He was
also ennobled and given considerable estates. He met with many
adventures on his journeys into foreign lands, and on one of his
expeditions was in so terrible a storm as to be threatened with
shipwreck, and he vowed if his life was spared that he would found a
chapel in his native land. As events turned out, he lived to reach
Tyrol once more, and in accordance with his vow founded the chapel in
the church at Hall, which was also the parish church of Rettenburg
Castle and estates which Maximilian had granted to him. Upon this
chapel he bestowed numerous relics which he had acquired during his
various travels, and nearly 50,000 pilgrims came from all parts of
Tyrol to the consecration service.
More than one of the chapels and churches of Hall owe their origin to
special circumstances of a more or less romantic character. That of
St. Saviour, for example, which stands on the site of some tumbledown
hovels which existed in the first years of the fifteenth century. The
story goes that it was to a dying man in one of these that one of the
priests attached to the village church was summoned to convey the
Viaticum, and administer extreme unction and the last rites of the
Church. He came in due course to the hovel, and placing the sacred
vessels on a rickety table the latter collapsed and the Host was
thrown on to the floor. This was, of course, a terrible disaster in
the eyes of the priest and peasants; and a rich burgher, Johann von
Kripp by name, hearing of the circumstance, purchased the cottages,
and as a reparation for the sacrilege which had occurred, founded a
church on the spot, dedicated to the Redeemer.
The Hall records are of great interest, and show that the town was a
place of much importance in the fifteenth century, when a considerable
part of the trade between Venice and Germany passed through it. In
those days, too, the town was somewhat celebrated for its junketings,
more especially the feasts which were held in connection with the
opening of the sessions at the Courts of Justice.
The neighbourhood, on account of the good sport provided, was a
favourite hunting-ground with the Emperor Maximilian, who on several
occasions was entertained in the town.
Hall declined slowly in importance during the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries by reason of the change in the trade routes; but
in quite modern times has regained some at least of its former
prosperity by adopting up-to-date methods.
There are numerous excellent and interesting excursions to be made
from Hall, but nearly every one pays a visit to the famous salt
mines, which are to the north amid most romantic and beautiful
scenery. Even by carriage the journey of about eight miles takes the
greater part of two hours; on foot even good walkers can scarcely hope
to do it in less than three. The scenery is in places very fine, and
one enjoys most beautiful views, and nearer glimpses of the
Bettelwulf, Speckkar and Nisslspitz Alps.
[Sidenote: ABSAM AND JAKOB STAINER]
On the way one passes the quaint village of Absam, at which Jakob
Stainer, known as the "German father of the violin," was born in 1621.
As a maker of these instruments he stands high, though it is unknown
where or how he acquired his knowledge of the craft. It seems
possible, however, as Absam is but a short distance from Innsbruck,
where at the period at which Stainer lived musicians--Italians and
others--were warmly welcomed to the Court of the Archduke Ferdinand
Karl, he may have made the acquaintance of some of these, or even of a
maker of distinction. Be it as it may, ere Stainer reached his
majority he had embarked upon the trade of a violin maker, and was
often to be seen in the streets of Hall and in the market-place
selling his productions at a price which we are told did not often
exceed six florins.
His original model was probably an Amati, but he departed considerably
from it as he himself acquired skill and knowledge. Stories are still
told of the great care he took in selecting the wood from which his
instruments were to be fashioned, and how he would sometimes spend
days wandering in the backwoods around Hall and Absam in search of a
good tree, which he would tap with a hammer and note its "tone" ere
felling. Unfortunately, as has been the case with many another genius,
he seems to have died in poverty in or about 1683. At one time he was
violin maker to the Imperial Court, but this appointment, which
ultimately he lost through inability to pay his way, and owing to
consequent financial embarrassment, was not sufficiently lucrative to
ensure him comfort in his declining years, let alone prosperity.
His instruments, of which there are still a number in existence, are
generally distinguished by having their tops more highly curved than
those of the chief Italian makers, whilst they possess a more
flute-like note, which is often more "singing" and sympathetic than
that of the latter. But none of his make probably equalled, or at all
events excelled, the works of the Italian masters for brilliance and
sustained tone, although by some connoisseurs this opinion has been
disputed. It is said that one of Mozart's favourite instruments was
the work of Jakob Stainer.
At the present time the chief industry of the Mittenwald, which is
just over the Bavarian border, is the production of violins and
guitars, which are exported in considerable numbers to both England
and the United States as well as to other European countries. This
flourishing industry owes its origin to a pupil of Stainer's, named
Klotz, who after his master's death enjoyed a considerable reputation
as a maker of violins of good quality.
Many of the houses of Absam are gaily painted, and in the numerous
niches, which are often vine-wreathed, one finds the images of saints,
and on the bargeboards roughly carved dragons. The villagers tell a
curious story to account for the presence of these dragons. It tells
how centuries ago there was in the village a marvellous hen that never
laid an egg until seven years old, and when this was hatched instead
of the anticipated chicken there crawled out a dragon, which
remarkable event the villagers have commemorated ever since by carving
dragons on the eaves of their houses. But it has been pointed out by
several writers upon legends and folk-lore that the dragon was an
animal sacred to the god Wodin, representations of which were
frequently placed on houses, over the town gates, and on belfries as a
kind of talisman against evil influences and spirits; and similar
statements are to be found in several well-known works dealing with
mythology.
[Sidenote: A WONDERFUL WINDOW]
In connection with this little Tyrol village are several other stories
and legendary tales of a highly romantic and interesting character.
Space, however, can only be found for one other. The story of the
event or circumstance which caused Absam to become a popular
pilgrimage place at the end of the eighteenth century runs as follows.
About the middle of January, in the year 1797, the daughter of one of
the villagers was one evening looking out of a window in her father's
house to watch for his return from work across the fields, when
suddenly the light from the fire which played upon the window-pane
disclosed a figure of the Virgin Mary quite distinctly. The girl was
so astonished that she fell upon her knees before the miraculous
picture. The story was not long in spreading throughout the village,
and the neighbours all came running to see the "miracle." Then the
news of the marvellous image spread through the district round about,
and at last created so great a stir that the Dean of Innsbruck himself
heard of it, and resolved to investigate the story. After he had
visited the place a committee of inquiry was formed, amongst the
members of which were two learned professors of chemistry and the
well-known artist, Joseph Schöpf.
After considerable investigation and the examination of witnesses the
committee declared that the glass had originally formed part of a
"picture" window, and that the image had been undoubtedly painted upon
it. The colours had, however, faded as the years went by (as
sometimes, indeed, happens), and it was the peculiar character of the
atmosphere of Absam which had restored them to the extent that the
image of the Holy Virgin had become once more visible.
It is not to be much wondered at, however, that the simple-minded
villagers failed to appreciate the arguments of the commissioners and
refused to accept the explanation. To them it remained a miraculous
image still, and pilgrims came in crowds to see it. As history tells
us, it was a period of "Sturm und Drang" in Tyrol. A plague raged
which afflicted both men and cattle; and the French invaders had
penetrated right into the heart of the country, had occupied
Innsbruck, and had brought fire and sword to the hearths of the
people. The superstitious peasantry, with their natural leaning
towards belief in the miraculous, and faith in the benefits to be
derived from the supernatural, accepted the image which had so
strangely appeared on the window-pane as a token of Divine favour, and
insisted on its removal and installation upon one of the altars in the
church. This was promptly done, and the "Gnadenmutter von Absam," or
"Miraculous Madonna of Absam," became an object of veneration by all
who were distressed. This feeling was doubtless immensely increased by
the circumstance that soon after the discovery of the picture and its
removal to the church the pestilence died down, and the French were
compelled to withdraw their forces. Both of which events were
attributed to the virtue of the painting of the Virgin on the
window-pane which had been discovered in so strange a manner.
The salt mines a little distance beyond Absam, with their crystalline
grottoes and the subterranean salt lake, provide an interesting and
unique experience for the enterprising traveller who comes to the
Salzberg. There is not much difficulty in obtaining admission to the
mines, a small fee being charged each visitor for guides, torches, and
the rowers of the boat on the lake. The circumstance that the mines
were known and worked in the eighth century is not the least
interesting fact connected with them; but it appears probable that the
early workers confined their attention chiefly if not entirely to the
extracting of the salt from a spring that issued from the mountain, by
means of evaporating pans.
[Illustration: THE HALL VALLEY, WINTER]
[Sidenote: DISCOVERY OF SALT MINES]
One Nikolas von Rohrbach, who is known by the sobriquet of "the
pious knight," appears to have been the first discoverer of the salt
mines. He noticed on his frequent hunting expeditions that the cattle
and horses were very fond of licking certain rocks in the valley, and
applied tests which showed that the rocks were strongly saline in
character. Following up this clue, he discovered the Salzberg itself
with its practically inexhaustible supply. Ever since Rohrbach's time
the mountain has been worked for its salt, and until recent years,
when blasting came into common use, much in the same way as in
mediæval times, viz. by hewing huge caverns in the rock, which are
then filled with water and sealed up. After a considerable period has
elapsed this water is run off into conduits leading down to Hall,
where it is evaporated in pans. How heavily charged with salt the
brine is may be judged from the fact that as a general rule it yields
no less than one-third of its weight in solid salt.
The caverns one is able to enter, when lighted up by the flickering
torches, present a truly wonderful and beautiful sight.
Those who visit Hall are indeed unfortunate whose time does not permit
them to put up for a day or two at either of the chief Inns (the "Bar"
or "Stern"), so that the beautiful Gnadenwald, which lies to the
north-east of the town on the Bettelwulf, may be visited. That lovely
Alpine lake, the Achen See, in which the towering snow-capped
mountains glass themselves, can be easily reached by the little
railway which runs up to it through the steeply climbing Zillerthal.
The highest and largest of Tyrolese lakes, the Achen See, lies at an
altitude of 3000 feet, with its deep-blue, crystal-clear waters
stretching northwards for a distance of nearly six miles towards
Bavaria. It is surrounded by the most exquisite mountain scenery,
craggy precipices and dark-green forests, and has many features of
interest in addition to providing excellent fishing, boating, and
numerous pleasant walks and excursions.
In the Gnadenwald, which was a grant of forest land made by Tyrolese
rulers to their household servants in olden times, there are several
villages of great picturesqueness. The road from Hall is a truly
delightful one through pine forests, sweet with aromatic perfume in
the warm air of summer, and upland fields, which seem to almost hang
on the sides of the grey, craggy peaks of the Bavarian Alps. And if
one but turns and gazes back occasionally there are charming vistas to
be had of the Inn Valley far below, and the great chain of the
southern mountain range on the further side.
The two picturesquely situated villages of St. Michael and St. Martin
are to be ranked amongst the chief places of interest in the
Gnadenwald. As one approaches the former its white church and tower
with a red-roofed cupola with gilded finial standing out clearly
defined against a background of dark green at once arrests attention.
Over the door is a fresco depicting the incident in the life of Saint
Martin where he bestowed his coat upon a beggar. The visitor whose
time permits or inclination leads him to enter the church will be
amply repaid by the beauty of the frescoes, more especially those
adorning the pulpit, which were painted by one of the priests attached
to the Augustinian monastery formerly connected with the church, but
afterwards suppressed by Joseph II. towards the end of the eighteenth
century.
At a little distance from the church stands the old home of Joseph
Speckbacher, where once, when pursued by his enemies, he took refuge
in a pit only deep enough for him to sit upright, whilst the Bavarian
soldiers in search of him were actually quartered in the house. He was
only able to leave his place of concealment under the floor when the
soldiers were absent drilling in the market-place. After a time he was
able to come out and hide in a more commodious cow-shed, and finally
to flee (after many narrow escapes) over the border into Austria,
where he was well received and safe from capture.
The village of St. Michael is also picturesque and well worth seeing.
Just beyond it is the famous Gungl Inn, a favourite resort with
excursionists from Innsbruck, Kufstein, Hall and other places, as well
as with the peasants of the Gnadenwald. Here, on Sundays especially,
one meets with some of the most interesting and picturesque types, gay
costumes and rustic scenes of gaiety and amusements which give one a
far better idea of the Tyrolese peasants as they are than days spent
in towns, and weeks spent reading books.
[Sidenote: A PILGRIMAGE CHURCH]
But a short distance further on, by a charming road, one reaches the
famous pilgrimage chapel of Maria Larch, built in honour of a
mysterious image of the Madonna which was discovered under a larch
tree. The church, perhaps on account of its poetic legend and secluded
and beautiful situation, has long been a favourite pilgrimage resort
with the impressionable and religious peasantry of the upper valleys.
There are many other picturesque places in the neighbourhood of Hall,
enticing the wanderer from valley to valley and height to height; but
a small volume would be required in which to adequately describe them
alone; and almost a lifetime to become thoroughly acquainted with
their romantic legends, story and beauty. Some weeks of exploration
leaves one with a keen desire for closer acquaintance with not merely
the lovely scenery but with the simple-hearted, hospitable people who
dwell in the more secluded valleys, with whom the great outer world
with its storm and stress has indeed little to do and for whom even
has little interest.
"You should return to Innsbruck from Hall in the late afternoon,
starting just before sunset," was the advice of an artist friend. "You
will then see what you will not easily forget."
The present writer passes on the advice.
No one who has waited till day's decline to make the return journey at
any period of the year will have reason to regret it, though in the
winter months the effects of light and shadow are, of course, far more
transient--far too much so--than during the spring, summer, and even
early autumn. Then the snow on the towering peaks of the environing
mountains glows with at first a golden light, which passes through
pearly tones to bright rose pink as the sun sinks behind the soaring
crags. The last gleams of the sun linger upon the highest peak as
though loth to fade through rose to pale purple, and in turn to change
to steely blue, and finally to that blue-black which challenges the
deeper indigo of the Alpine sky. Through the pine woods as one passes
along the mountain road the golden light filters and slowly dies,
throwing long shadows, and at last making the tree trunks loom
enormous and fantastical in the fading light. And then from the tiny
churches of the mountain side and valley one hears the Angelus ringing
forth with a peaceful sound; or if one be approaching Innsbruck
itself, then the mellow tones of the greater bell of Wilten float
upward from the valley and come to one borne on the still evening air.
Under such circumstances of beauty and in the impressive solitude of
the forest ways one must be, indeed, unimpressionable if one fails to
feel something of the spirit and love of Tyrol, and of restful peace
which has enslaved so many hearts throughout the country's history.
FOOTNOTE:
[14] By some authorities it is stated that the Emperor was never made
aware of Ferdinand's marriage.--C. H.