{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_43614/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_43614","id":"gutenberg_43614","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43614","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Travel Writing","Tyrol (Austria) -- Description and travel","Tyrol (Austria) -- Guidebooks","Valleys -- Austria -- Tyrol"],"text":"THE\n                            VALLEYS OF TIROL\n\n                      THEIR TRADITIONS AND CUSTOMS\n                         AND HOW TO VISIT THEM\n\n\n                                   BY\n                            MISS R. H. BUSK\n\n             AUTHOR OF 'PATRA\u00d1AS' 'SAGAS FROM THE FAR EAST'\n                        'FOLK-LORE OF ROME' ETC.\n\n                    WITH FRONTISPIECE AND THREE MAPS\n\n\n\n                                 LONDON\n                        LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.\n                                  1874\n\n                          All rights reserved\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThere are none who know Tirol but are forward to express regret\nthat so picturesque and so primitive a country should be as yet,\ncomparatively with other tracks of travel, so little opened up to\nthe dilettante explorer.\n\nIt is quite true, on the other hand, that just in proportion as a\ncountry becomes better known, it loses, little by little, its merit\nof being primitive and even picturesque. Intercourse with the world\nbeyond the mountains naturally sweeps away the idiosyncracies of the\nmountaineers; and though the trail of progress which the civilized\ntourist leaves behind him cannot absolutely obliterate the actual\nconfiguration of the country, yet its original characteristics\nmust inevitably be modified by the changes which his visits almost\ninsensibly occasion. The new traditions which he brings with him of\nvast manufacturing enterprise and rapid commercial success cannot but\nreplace in the minds of the people the old traditions of the fire-side\nand the Fil\u00f2, with their dreams of treasure-granting dwarfs and the\nBergsegen dependent on prayer. The uniform erections of a monster Hotel\nCompany, 'convenient to the Railway Station,' supersede the frescoed\nor timbered hostelry perched on high to receive the wayfarer at his\nweariest. The giant mill-chimneys, which sooner or later spring up from\nseed unwittingly scattered by the way-side, not only mar the landscape\nwith their intrinsic deformity, but actually strip the mountains\nof their natural covering, and convert wooded slopes into grey and\nbarren wastes; [1] just as the shriek of the whistle overpowers the\nJ\u00f6del-call, and the barrel-organ supersedes the zitther and the guitar.\n\n\n\nSuch considerations naturally make one shrink from the responsibility\nof taking a part (how insignificant soever) in directing the migration\nof tourists into such a country as Tirol. I have heard a Tirolese,\nwhile at the same time mourning that the attractions of his country\nwere so often passed over, express this feeling very strongly, and\nallege it as a reason why he did not give the result of his local\nobservations to the press; and I listened to his apprehensions with\nsympathy. But then these changes must be. The attempt to delay them\nis idle; nor would individual abstention from participating in the\nnecessary movement of events have any sensible effect in stemming\nthe even course of inevitable development. Circumstances oblige us\ncontinually to co-operate in bringing about results which we might\npersonally deprecate.\n\n\n    'In whatsoe'er we perpetrate\n    We do but row; we're steered by fate.'\n\n\nAnd after all, why should we deprecate the result? We all admire\nthe simple mind and chubby face of childhood; yet who (except the\nsentimental father in the French ballad, 'Reste toujours petit!') would\nwish to see his son in petticoats and leading-strings all his days. The\nmorning mists which lend their precious charm of mystery to the sunrise\nlandscape must be dispelled as day advances, or day would be of little\nuse to man.\n\nThe day cannot be all morning; man's life cannot be all infancy;\nand we have no right so much as to wish--even though wishes avail\nnothing--that the minds of others should be involved in absurd\nillusions to which we should scorn to be thought a prey ourselves.\n\nNature has richly endowed Tirol with beauty and healthfulness; and they\nmust be dull indeed who, coming in search of these qualities, do not\nfind them enhanced a hundredfold by the clothing of poetry with which\nthe people have superindued them. Who, in penetrating its mountain\nsolitudes, would not thank the guide who peoples them for him with\nmysterious beings of transcendent power; who interprets for him, in\nthe nondescript echoes of evening, the utterances of a world unknown;\nand in the voices of the storm and of the breeze the expression of\nan avenging power or the whisperings of an almighty tenderness.\n\nBut then--if this is found to be something more than poetry, if\nthe allegory which delights our fancy turns out to be a grotesque\nblunder in the system of the peasant who narrates it,--it cannot be\nfair to wish that he should continue subject to fallacious fancies,\nin order that we may be entertained by their recital.\n\nIt is one thing for a man who has settled the grounds of his belief\n(or his unbelief) to his best satisfaction in any rational way, to\nsay, 'I take this beautiful allegory into my repertory; it elevates\nmy moral perceptions and illustrates my higher reaches of thought;'\nbut it is quite another thing if one reasons thus with himself,\n'My belief is so and so, because a certain supernatural visitation\nproves it;' when actually the said supernatural visitation never\ntook place at all, and was nothing but an allegory, or still less,\na mere freak of fancy in its beginning.\n\nPerhaps if the vote could be taken, and if desires availed anything,\nthe general consensus of thinking people would go in favour of\nthe desire that there had been no myths, no legends. But the vote\nwould involve the consequence that we should have antecedently to\nbe possessed of a complete innate knowledge of the forces of being,\ncorresponding to the correct criteria, which we flatter ourselves do\nindwell us of the principles of beauty and of harmony. If there are\nany who are sanguine enough to believe that science will one of these\ndays give us a certain knowledge of how everything came about, it is\nbeyond dispute that for long ages past mankind has been profoundly\npuzzled about the question, and it cannot be an uninteresting study\nto trace its gropings round and round it.\n\nPerfect precision of ideas again would involve perfect exactness of\nexpression. No one can fail to regret the inadequacies and vagaries\nof language which so often disguise instead of expressing thought,\nand lead to the most terrible disputes just where men seek to be most\ndefinite. If we could dedicate one articulate expression to every\npossible idea, we should no longer be continually called to litigate\non the meanings of creeds and documents, and even verbal statements.\n\nBut when we had attained all this, we should have surrendered all\nthe occupation of conjecture and all the charms of mystery; we should\nhave parted with all poetry and all jeux d'esprit. If knowledge was\nso positive and language so precise that misunderstanding had no\nexistence, then neither could we indulge in metaphor nor \u00e9gayer la\nmati\u00e8re with any play on words. In fact, there would be nothing left\nto say at all!\n\nPerhaps the price could not be too high; but in the meantime we\nhave to deal with circumstances as they are. We cannot suppress\nmythology, or make it non-existent by ignoring it. It exists, and\nwe may as well see what we can make of it, either as a study or a\nrecreation. Conjectures and fancies surround us like thistles and\nroses; and as brains won't stand the wear of being ceaselessly carded\nwith the thistles of conjecture, we may take refuge in the alternative\nof amusing ourselves on a holiday tour with plucking the roses which\nold world fancy has planted--and planted nowhere more prolifically\nthan in Tirol.\n\n\n\nIn speaking of Tirol as comparatively little opened up, I have not\noverlooked the publications of pioneers who have gone before. The\npages of Inglis, though both interesting and appreciative, are\nunhappily almost forgotten, and they only treat quite incidentally\nof the people's traditions. But as it is the most salient points of\nany matter which must always arrest attention first, it has been\nchiefly the mountains of Tirol to which attention has hitherto\nbeen drawn. Besides the universally useful 'Murray' and others,\nvery efficient guidance to them has of late years been afforded in\nthe pages of 'Ball's Central Alps,' in some of the contributions to\n'Peaks, Passes, and Glaciers;' in the various works of Messrs. Gilbert\nand Churchill; and now Miss A. B. Edwards has shown what even ladies\nmay do among its Untrodden Peaks. The aspects of its scenery and\ncharacter, for which it is my object on the other hand to claim\nattention, lie hidden among its Valleys, Trodden and Untrodden. And\ndown in its Valleys it is that its traditions dwell. [2]\n\nIf the names of the Valleys of Tirol do not at present awaken in\nour mind stirring memories such as cling to other European routes\nwhither our steps are invited, ours is the fault, in that we have\noverlooked their history. The past has scattered liberally among\nthem characteristic landmarks dating from every age, and far beyond\nthe reach of dates. Every stage even of the geological formation\nof the country--which may almost boast of being in its courage and\nits probity, as it does boast of being in the shape in which it\nis fashioned, the heart of Europe--is sung of in popular Sage as\nthe result of some poetically conceived agency; humdrum physical\nforces transformed by the wand of imagination into personal beings;\nnow bountiful, now retributive; now loving; now terrible; but nearly\nalways rational and just.\n\nTo the use of those who care to find such gleams of poetry thrown\nathwart Nature's work the following pages are dedicated. The traditions\nthey record do not claim to have been all gathered at first hand\nfrom the stocks on which they were grown or grafted. A life, or\nseveral lives, would hardly have sufficed for the work. In Germany,\nunlike Italy, myths have called into being a whole race of collectors,\nand Tirol has an abundant share of them among her offspring. Not only\nhave able and diligent sons devoted themselves professionally to the\npreservation of her traditions, but every valley nurtures appreciative\nminds to whom it is a delight to store them in silence, and who\nwillingly discuss such lore with the traveller who has a taste for it.\n\nThat a foreigner should attempt to add another to these very full,\nif not exhaustive collections, would seem an impertinent labour of\nsupererogation. My work, therefore, has been to collate and arrange\nthose traditions which have been given me, or which I have found\nready heaped up; to select from the exuberant mass those which,\nfor one reason or another, appeared to possess the most considerable\ninterest; and to localise them in such a way as to facilitate their\nstudy both by myself and others along the wayside; not neglecting,\nhowever, any opportunity that has come in my way of conversing about\nthem with the people themselves, and so meeting them again, living,\nas it were, in their respective homes. This task, as far as I know,\nhas not been performed by any native writer. [3]\n\nThe names of the collectors I have followed are, to all who know the\ncountry, the best possible guarantee of the authenticity of what they\nadvance; and I subjoin here a list of the chief works I have either\nstudied myself or referred to, through the medium of kind helpers in\nTirol, so as not to weary the reader as well as myself with references\nin every chapter:--\n\n\n    Von Alpenburg: Mythen und Sagen Tirols.\n    Brandis: Ehrenkr\u00e4nzel Tirols.\n    H. J. von Collin: Kaiser Max auf der Martinswand: ein Gedicht.\n    Das Drama des Mittelalters in Tirol. A. Pickler.\n    Hormayr: Taschenbuch f\u00fcr die Vaterl\u00e4ndische Geschichte.\n    Meyer: Sagenkr\u00e4nzlein aus Tirol.\n    Nork: Die Mythologie der Volkssagen und Volksm\u00e4rchen.\n    Die Oswaldlegende und ihre Beziehung auf Deutscher Mythologie.\n    Oswald v. Wolkenstein: Gedichte. Reprint, with introduction\n    by Weber.\n    Perini: I Castelli del Tirolo.\n    Der Pilger durch Tirol; geschichtliche und topographische\n    Beschreibung der Wallfahrtsorte u. Gnadenbilder in Tirol\n    u. Vorarlberg.\n    A. Pickler: Fr\u00fchlieder aus Tirol.\n    Scherer: Geographie und Geschichte von Tirol.\n    Simrock: Legenden.\n    Schneller: M\u00e4rchen und Sagen aus W\u00e4lsch-Tirol.\n    Stafler: Das Deutsche Tirol und Vorarlberg.\n    Die Sage von Kaiser Max auf der Martinswand.\n    J. Thaler: Geschichte Tirols von der Urzeit.\n    Der Untersberg bei Salzburg, dessen geheimnissvolle Sagen der\n    Vorzeit, nebst Beschreibung dieses Wunderberges.\n    Vonbun: Sagen Vorarlbergs.\n    Weber: Das Land Tirol. Drei B\u00e4nder.\n    Zingerle: K\u00f6nig Laurin, oder der Rosengarten in Tirol. Die Sagen\n    von Margaretha der Maultasche. Sagen, M\u00e4rchen u. Gebr\u00e4uche aus\n    Tirol. Der ber\u00fchmte Landwirth Andreas Hofer.\n\n\nI hope my little maps will convey a sufficient notion of the divisions\nof Tirol, the position of its valleys and of the routes through them\ntracked in the following pages. I have been desirous to crowd them\nas little as possible, and to indicate as far as may be, by the size\nand direction of the words, the direction and the relative importance\nof the valleys.\n\nOf its four divisions the present volume is concerned with the first\n(Vorarlberg), the fourth (W\u00e4lsch-Tirol), and with the greater part\nof the valleys of the second (Nord or Deutsch-Tirol.) In the remoter\nrecesses of them all some strange and peculiar dialects linger,\nwhich perhaps hold a mine in store for the philologist. Yet, though\nthe belief was expressed more than thirty years ago [4] that they\nmight serve as a key to the Etruscan language, I believe no one has\nsince been at the pains to pursue this most interesting research. In\nthe hope of inducing some one to enter this field of enquiry, I will\nsubjoin a list of some few expressions which do not carry on their face\na striking resemblance to either of the main languages of the country,\nleaving to the better-informed to make out whence they come. The two\nmain languages (and these will suffice the ordinary traveller for\nall practical purposes), are German in Vorarlberg and North Tirol,\nItalian in W\u00e4lsch-Tirol, mixed with occasional patches of German; and\nin South-Tirol with a considerable preponderance of these patches. A\ntendency to bring about the absorption of the Italian-speaking valleys\ninto Italy has been much stimulated in modern times, and in the\nvarious troubled epochs of the last five-and-twenty years Garibaldian\nattacks have been made upon the frontier line. The population was found\nstedfast in its loyalty to Austria, however, and all these attempts\nwere repulsed by the native sharp-shooters, with little assistance\nfrom the regular troops. An active club and newspaper propagandism is\nstill going on, promoted by those who would obliterate Austria from\nthe map of Europe. For them, there exists only German-Tirol and the\nTrentino. And the Trentino is now frequently spoken of as a province\nbordering on, instead of as in reality, a division of, Tirol.\n\nAlthough German is generally spoken throughout Vorarlberg, there\nis a mixture of Italian expressions in the language of the people,\nwhich does not occur at all in North-Tirol: as\n\n\n    fazanedle, for a handkerchief (Ital. fazzoletto.)\n    gaude, gladness (Ital. gaudio.)\n    guttera, a bottle (Ital. gutto a cruet.)\n    gespusa, a bride (Ital. sposa).\n    gouter, a counterpane (Ital. coltre).\n    schapel, the hat (peculiar to local costume), (Ital. cappello,\n    a hat).\n\n\nThe k in many German words is here written with ch; and no doubt\nsuch names as the Walgau, Walserthal, &c., commemorate periods of\nVenetian rule.\n\nNow for some of the more 'outlandish' words:--\n\n\n    baschga' (the final n, en, rn, &c. of the German form of the\n    infinitive is usually clipped by the Vorarlbergers, even in German\n    words, just as the Italians constantly clip the final letters\n    of their infinitive, as anda' and andar' for andare, to walk,\n    &c.) to overcome.\n    batta', to serve.\n    p\u00fctze' or buetza', to sew or to piece.\n    h\u00e4ss, clothing.\n    res, speech.\n    tobel, a ravine.\n    feel, a girl; spudel, an active girl; schmel, a smiling girl.\n    hattel, a goat; m\u00fctl, a kid.\n    Atti, [5] father, and datti, 'daddy.'\n    frei, pleasant.\n    zoana, a wattled basket.\n    schlutta and schoope, a smock-frock.\n    t\u00e4ibe, anger.\n    k\u00eeba', to strive.\n    r\u00eara', to weep. [6]\n    musper, merry.\n    tribiliera', to constrain.\n    waedle, swift.\n    raetig werden, to deliberate.\n    Tripstr\u00fcll, = Utopia.\n    wech, spruce, also vain.\n    laegla, a little vessel.\n    hengest, a friendly gathering of men. [7]\n    koga, cursed, also corrupted.\n    fegga, a wing.\n    krom, a gift.\n    blaetz, a patch.\n    grind, a brute's head, a jolterhead.\n    bratza, a paw, an ugly hand.\n    briegga', to pucker up the face ready for crying.\n    deihja, a shepherd's or cattle-herd's hut. [8]\n    also dieja, which is generally reserved for a hut formed by taking\n    advantage of a natural hole, leaving only a roof to be supplied.\n    garreg, prominent. (I think that gareggiante in Italian is\n    sometimes used in a similar sense.)\n\n\nOther words in Vorarlberg dialect are very like English, as:--\n\n\n    Witsch, a witch.\n    Pf\u00fclle, a pillow.\n    r\u00f4t, wrath.\n    gompa', to jump.\n    g\u00fclla, a gulley.\n    also datti and schmel, mentioned already.\n    Afterm\u00f6tig (after-Monday) is a local name for Tuesday.\n\n\nIn W\u00e4lsch-Tirol, they have\n\n\n    carega, a chair.\n    bagherle, a little carriage, a car.\n    troz, a mountain path.\n    Malga, [9] equivalent to Alp, a mountain pasture.\n    zufolo, [10] a pipe.\n    And Turlul\u00f9 (infra, p. 432) is nearly identical in form and sound\n    with a word expounded in Etrus. Researches, p. 299.\n    Of 'Salvan' and 'Gannes,' I have already spoken. [11]\n\n\nBut all this is, I am aware, but a mere turning over of the surface;\nmy only wish is that some one of stronger capacity will dig deeper. Of\nmany dialects, too, I have had no opportunity of knowing anything at\nall. Here are, however, a few suggestive or strange words from North\nand South Tirol:--\n\nPill, which occurs in various localities [12] of both those provinces\nto designate a place built on a little hill or knoll, is identical\nwith an Etruscan word to which Mr. Isaac Taylor gives a similar\nsignificance. [13] I do not overlook Weber's observation that 'Pill\nis obviously a corruption of B\u00fcchel (the German for a knoll), through\nB\u00fchel and B\u00fchl;' but, which proceeds from which is often a knotty point\nin questions of derivation, and Weber did not know of the Etruscan\n'pil.'\n\nZiller and celer I have already alluded to, [14] though of course\nit may be said that the Tirolean river had its name from an already\nromanised Etruscan word, and does not necessarily involve direct\ncontact with the Etruscan vocabulary.\n\n\n    Grau-wutzl is a name in the Zillerthal for the Devil.\n    Disel, for disease of any kind.\n    Gigl, a sheep.\n    Kiess, a heifer.\n    Triel, a lip.\n    Bueg, a leg.\n    knospen stands in South-Tirol for wooden shoes, and\n    fokazie for cakes used at Eastertide. (Focaccia is used for 'cake'\n    in many parts of Italy, and 'dar pan per focaccia' is equivalent to\n    'tit for tat' all over the Peninsula.)\n\n\nIt remains only to excuse myself for the spelling of the word Tirol. I\nhave no wish to incur the charge of 'pedantry' which has heretofore\nbeen laid on me for so writing it. It seems to me that, in the absence\nof any glaring mis-derivation, it is most natural to adopt a country's\nown nomenclature; and in Tirol, or by Tirolean writers, I have never\nseen the name spelt with a y. I have not been able to get nearer its\nderivation than that the Castle above Meran, which gave it to the\nwhole principality, was called by the Romans, when they rebuilt it,\nTeriolis. Why they called it so, or what it was called before, I have\nnot been able to learn. The English use of the definite article in\nnaming Tirol is more difficult to account for than the adoption of\nthe y, in which we seem to have been misled by the Germans. We do not\nsay 'the France' or 'the Italy;' even to accommodate ourselves to the\ngenius of the languages of those countries, therefore, that we should\nhave gone out of our way to say 'the Tyrol' when the genius of that\ncountry's language does not require us so to call it, can have arisen\nonly from a piece of carelessness which there is no need to repeat.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                                    Page\nCHAPTER I.\n\nVORARLBERG.\n\nIntroductory remarks on the use of myths, legends, and traditions;\ntheir imagery beyond imitation; have become a study; now a science;\nProf. M. M\u00fcller; Rev. G. W. Cox--Karl Blind on attractions\nfor the English in Germanic mythology; mythological persons of\nTirol--Mythological symbols in art; in poetry; Dante on popular\ntraditions; their record of thoughts and customs; Tullio Dandolo;\nDepping; Tirolean peasants                                             1\n\nOur introduction to Tirol--Excursions round Feldkirch; the\nKatzenthurm; St. Fidelis; St. Eusebius--Rankweil--Fridolins-\nkapelle--Valduna--S. Gerold--Route into Tirol by Lindau--Bregenz,\nbirthplace of Flatz--Legend of Charlemagne; of Ulrich and\nWendelgard--Ehreguota--Riedenberg school--the natural preserves\nof Lustenau--Merboth, Diedo, and Ilga--Embs; its chronicles; Swiss\nembroidery; Sulphur baths; Jews' synagogue--Lichtenstein; Vaduz;\nHot sulphur-baths of Pf\u00e4ffers; Taminaschlund; Luziensteig             12\n\nFrom Feldkirch to Innsbruck--The Pass of Frastanz; Shepherd lad's\nheroism; the traitor's fate--S. Joder and the Devil--Bludenz--Montafon;\nwho gave it its arms--Prazalanz--The Tear-rill; Kirschwasser--Dalaas--\nSilberthal--Das Bruederh\u00fcsle--Engineering of the Arlberg pass--\nStanzerthal--Hospice of St. Christof--Wiesburg--Ischgl; its 'skullery'\n--Landeck--Legend of Schrofenstein--Sharpshooter's monument--Auf dem\nFern--Nassereit--Tschirgants Branch road to F\u00fcssen--Plansee--Lechthal\n--Imst--Pitzthal--Growth of a modern legend--Heiterwang--Ehrenberger\nKlauze Archenthal--Vierzehn Nothhelfer                                24\n\nA border adventure; our party; our plans; our route--Aarau--Rorschach;\nits skeleton-Caryatid\u00e6--Oberriet--Our luggage overpowers the station-\nmaster--Our wild colt--Our disaster--Our walk--Our embroideress guide\n--The Rhine ferry--The Rh\u00e6tian Alps--Altenstadt--Schattenburg--British\nmissionaries to Tirol--Feldkirch, festa, costumes--Our luggage again\n--Our new route--Our postilion--The Stase-saddle--The Devil's House\n--The Voralberger-ghost                                               39\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL--(RIGHT INN-BANK).\n\nKUFSTEIN TO ROTTENBURG.\n\nKufstein--Pienzenau's unlucky joke--Ainliffen--Rocsla Sandor; the\nHungarian lovers--National anthem--Thierberg--A modern pilgrim--\nDer B\u00fcsser--Public memorials of religion--Zell--Ottokapelle--Kundl\n--S. Leonhard auf der Wiese; its sculptures--Henry II.'s vow--The\nAufl\u00e4nger-Br\u00fcndl--Rattenberg--Rottenburg--St. Nothburga; her integrity,\ncharity, persecution, patience, piety, observance of Sunday; judgment\novertakes Ottilia: Nothburga's restoration; legend of her burial--Henry\nVI. of Rottenburg and Friedrich mit der leeren Tasche--Character of\neach--Henry's literary tastes; his mysterious fate--The fire spares\nNothburga's cell--Mining legend                                       53\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL--(RIGHT INN-BANK).\n\nTHE ZILLERTHAL.\n\nThe Zillerthal--Conveyances--Etruscan remnant--Thurnegg and\nTratzberg across the river--Strass--Corn or coin?--The two\nchurches of Schlitters--Castles of the Zillerthal--The peace of\nKropfsberg--'The only F\u00fcgen'--The patriot Riedl--Zell--Expulsion\nof Lutherans--Hippach--Hainzenberg; ultra co-operative gold\nmines--Mayrhof--Garnet mills--Mari\u00e4-Rastkapelle--Hulda--Tributary\nvalleys--Duxerthal--Hinter-Dux--Hardiness of the people--Legends of\nthe frozen wall--Dog's-throat valley--The Devil's path--The Zemmer\nglacier--Schwarzensteingrund                                          79\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL--(RIGHT INN-BANK).\n\nZILLERTHAL CUSTOMS--THE WILDSCH\u00d6NAU.\n\nZillerthal customs--Games--Spirits play with gold skittles--Pedlar\nof Starkenberg--Dances: Schnodah\u00fcpfl: Hosennagler--Cow-fights--\nKirchtag--Primizen and Sekundizen--Carneval--Christnacht--\nKloubabrod--Sternsingen--G\u00f6macht--Weddings--Zutrinken--Customs\nof other valleys--The cat, patron of courtship                        92\n\nKundl again--Wiltschenau--Niederaich--Kundlburg--Oberau--Niederrau\n--Thierberg--Silver-mines--Legends of dwarfs and Knappen--Moidl and\nthe gold-cave--Legend of the Landmark--Der Umgehende Schuster--\nPerchtl, Pilate's wife--Comparative mythologists--Wodin, Wilder\nJ\u00e4ger, Wilhelm Tell--Symbolism in tales of enchanted Princesses--\nPerahta, the daughter of Dagha--Brixlegg--Burgleckner--Claudia de'\nMedici--Biener's dying challenge--The Bienerweible--Sandbichler,\nthe Bible-commentator                                                110\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL.\n\nLEFT INN-BANK.\n\nJenbach--Wiesing--Thiergarten--Kramsach--Brandenberger Ache--\nVoldepp--The Mooserthal--The Mariathal--Rheinthalersee--Achenrain\n--Mariathal, village and ruined Dominican convent--Georg von\nFreundsberg--The Brandenbergerthal--Steinberg--Heimaththal,\nFreiheitthal--The gold-herds of the Reiche Spitze--Die Kalte\nPein--Mariastein--The irremovable image--Jenbach--Wiesing--The\nThiergarten--The Achenthal--The K\u00e4sbachthal--The Blue Achensee--\nSkolastica--Pertisau--Buchau, Nature's imitation fortress--\nTegernsee--The Achen-pass--The judgment of Achensee--Playing at\nball in St. Paul's cathedral--Legend of Wildenfeld--Eben--The\nescape of the vampire--Stans--Joseph Arnold--Tirolean artists--\nThe Stallenthal--St. Georgenberg--Unsere liebe Frau zur Linde--\nViecht, Benedictine monastery, library, sculpture--Vomperthal--\nSigmundslust--Sigismund the Monied--Terfens--Marialarch--\nVolandseck--Thierberg--S. Michael's--S. Martin's--The Gnadenwald\n--Baumkirchen--Fritzens--External tokens of faith--The holy\nfamily at home--Frost phantoms--Hall; M\u00fcnzthurm;\nSandwirthszwanziger; salt-works; Speckbacher; Waldaufischer-\nKapelle; S. Saviour's; institutions of Hall--Johannisw\u00fcrmchen;\nBauernkrieg--Excursions round Hall; the Salzberg; the\nexplorations of the 'Fromme Ritter;' grandeur of the salt-mines;\nsalt-works; visit of Hofer and Speckbacher; the Salzthal--Absam;\nthe dragons of Schloss Melans; Count Spaur's ride to Babylon;\ncombat with the toad--Max M\u00fcller on legends--The image on the\nwindow-pane; the Gnadenmutter von Absam; Stainer the violin-maker\n--Mils--Gr\u00fcnegg--Schneeberg--The Gnadenwald--The Glockenhof; the\nGlockengiesser; his temptation, condemnation, and dying request--\nThe Loreto-kirche--Heiligenkreuz--Taur--Th\u00fcrl--The Kaisers\u00e4ule--\nSt. Romedius, St. Vigilius and the bear; the spectre priest--Rum,\nlandslip                                                             125\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL--(RIGHT INN-BANK).\n\nSCHWATZ.\n\nSchwatz, its situation; effigy of S. John Nepomuk; his example; the\nvillage frescoes; a hunt for a breakfast; the lessons of traveller's\nfare; market; church; its size disproportioned to the population; the\nreason of this--Schwatz a Roman station; silver-mines; prosperity;\nimportance; influence of miners of Saxony; reformation; riots;\npolemical disputes; decline; copper and iron works; other industries;\nmisfortunes. History of the parish church; peculiar construction;\nthe Knappenhochaltar; monuments; Hans Dreyling; altar-pieces;\nMichaels-kapelle; its legend; churchyard; its reliquary and holy\noil; the Robler and the gossip's corpse; penance and vision of\nthe unmarried--Franciscan church--characteristics of the inns;\nsingular use of the beds; guitar playing--Blessed Sacrament visits the\nsick--Freundsberg; the ruined castles of Tirol; Georg von Freundsberg;\nhis prowess, strength, success; devotion of his men; sung of as a hero;\nhis part in the siege of Rome, sudden death, and ruin of his house;\ntower; chapel--Weird-woman; her story; her legends; Oswald Milser of\nSeefeld; the bird-catcher of the Goaslahn; strange birds; chamois;\nthe curse of the swallow--Hospital; chapel--Tobacco; factory girls\nat benediction--Pews in German churches                              168\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL--(RIGHT INN-BANK).\n\nEXCURSIONS FROM SCHWATZ.\n\nFalkenstein; exhausted mines; religious observances of miners; tokens\nof their craft--Buch--Margareth--Galzein--Kugelmoos--The Schwaderalpe\n--The Kellerspitze--Troi--Arzberg--Heiligenkreuzkapelle--Baierische-\nRumpel--Pill--The Weerthal, Schloss Rettenberg; its spectre warder--\nThe Kolsassthal--Wattens--Walchen--Mols--The Navisthal--Lizumthal; the\nBlue Lake--Volders--Voldererthal--Hanzenheim--Friedberg--Aschbach, why\nit is in the parish of Mils--Hippolitus Guarinoni, page to St. Charles,\nphysician of the poor; religious zeal; church of St. Charles,\nServitenkloster, the Stein des Gehorsams; analogous legend--Rinn;\nS. Anderle's martyrdom; the Judenstein; lettered lilies--Aversion to\nJews--Voldererbad--Ampass--Lans--The Patscherkofl--The Lansersee;\nthe poor proprietor and the unjust noble--Sistrans; legend of its\nchampion wrestler--Heiligenwasser                                    200\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nNORTH TIROL--THE INNTHAL.\n\nINNSBRUCK.\n\nOur greeting; characteristics of the people; Innsbruck's treatment\nof Kaiser Max; the OEstereichischer hof; our apartment; mountain\nview; character of the town; its history--Wilten; the minster; myth\nof Haymon the giant; his burial-place; parish church; Marienbild\nunter den vier S\u00e4ulen; relic of the thundering legion--First record\nof Innsbruck; chosen for seat of government; for residence by\nFriedl mit der leeren Tasche--Character of Tirolean rulers--the\nGoldene-Dachl-Geb\u00e4ude--Sigismund the Monied; his reception\nof Christian I.; condition of Tirol in his time; his castles;\nabdication--Maximilian; builds the Burg; magnificence of his reign;\nlegends of him; his decline--Charles Quint; cedes Tirol to Ferdinand\nI.; his wise administration; quiets popular agitation; Charles\nQuint's visits to Innsbruck; attacked by Maurice, Elector of Saxony;\ncarried into Carinthia in a litter; death of Maurice--Ferdinand\nI., the Hof-Kirche; Maximilian's cenotaph; its bas-relief;\nstatues; Mirakel-Bild des H. Anton; F\u00fcrstenchor; abjuration of\nQueen Christina--Introduction of Jesuits; results--The 'Fromme\nSiechin'--Ferdinand II.; his peaceful tastes; romantic attachment;\nPhilippine Welser; m\u00e9nage at Schloss Ambras; collections; curiosities;\nportraits; Philippine's end                                          225\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nNORTH TIROL--THE INNTHAL.\n\nINNSBRUCK (continued).\n\nWallenstein's vow--Theophrastus Paracelsus; his mysterious dealings\n--The Tummelplatz--The Silberne Kapelle--Earthquake and dearth;\ntheir lessons--Ferdinand's devotion to the Blessed Sacrament;\nanalogous legend of Rudolf of Hapsburg--Ferdinand's second marriage\n--The Capuchin Church--Maximilian the Deutschmeister; introduces the\nServites--Paul Lederer--Maximilian's hermitage--S. Lorenzo of\nBrindisi--Dreiheiligkeitskirche--Provisions against ravages of the\nThirty Years' War--The Siechenhaus--Leopold V.; dispensed from his\nepiscopal jurisdiction and vows; Marries Claudia de' Medici--\nFriedrich v. Tiefenbach--Festivities at Innsbruck--The Hofgarten--\nKranach's Madonna, Mari\u00e4h\u00fclfskirche built to receive it; translation\nto the Pfarr-kirche under Ferdinand Karl--Ferdinand Karl--Regency of\nClaudia de' Medici; administrative ability; Italian influences--\nSigismund Franz--Claudia Felicita--Charles of Lotharingia--War of\nsuccession; Bavarian inroad of 1703; the Pontlatzerbr\u00fccke;\nBaierische-Rumpel--St. Annens\u00e4ule--Joseph I.--Karl Philipp; builds\nthe Land-haus and gymnasium, restores the Pfarrkirche; stucco and\nmarble decorations; frescoes; preservation of Damian Asam--\nStrafarbeitshaus--Church of S. John Nepomuk; his popularity;\ncanonisation--Maria Theresa; her partiality for Innsbruck; example;\nPrussian prisoners; marriage of Leopold; death of Francis I.; the\nTriumphpforte, the Damenstift--Joseph II.--Archduchess Maria\nElizabeth--Pius VI. passes through Innsbruck--Leopold II.--Repeal\nof Josephinischen measures--Francis II.--Outbreak of the French\nrevolution---Das M\u00e4dchen v. Spinges--The Auferstehungsfeier--\nArchduchess Maria Elizabeth--Gottesacker--Treaty of Pressburg--\n'The Year Nine'--Andreas Hofer--Peace of Sch\u00f6nbrunn--Speckbacher;\nsuccesses at Berg Isel; Hofer as Sch\u00fctzen-Kommandant; his\nmoderation, simplicity, subordination; his betrayal; last hours;\nfirmness; execution--Restoration of Austrian rule--Hofer's\nmonument--Tirolese loyalty in 1848--The Ferdinandeum; its\ncuriosities--Early editions of German authors--Paintings on cobweb\n--The Schiess-stand--Policy of the Viennese Government,\nconstitutional opposition of Tirol--Population of Innsbruck          265\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nNORTH TIROL--OBERINNTHAL.\n\nINNSBRUCK TO ZIRL AND SCHARNITZ--INNSBRUCK TO THE LISENS-FERNER.\n\nExcursions from Innsbruck--M\u00fchlau; new church; Baronin Sternbach\n--Judgment of Frau H\u00fctt--B\u00fcchsenhausen--Weierburg--Mari\u00e4-Brunn--\nHottingen; monuments in the Friedhof--Schloss Lichtenthurm--The\nH\u00f6ttingerbild; the student's Madonna; stalactites--Excursion to\nZirl--Grossen Herr-Gott Strasse--Kranebitten--The Schwefelloch--\nThe Hundskapelle--The Zirlerchristen--Gross Solstein--The\nMartinswand; danger of the Emperor Maximilian; Collin's ballad;\nwho led the Kaiser astray?--His importance in Europe; efforts to\nrescue him; the Blessed Sacrament visits him; unknown deliverer\n--Martinsb\u00fchl--Traditions of Kaiser Max--Zirl--Fragenstein; its\nhidden treasure--Leiten--Reit--Seefeld--The Heilige Blutskapelle\n--The Seekapelle--Scharnitz--Isarthal--Porta Klaudia--Dirsten\u00f6hl\n--The beggar-woman's prayer; vision of the peasant of Dorf           310\n\nUnter-Perfuss--Selrainthal--The Melach--Rothenbrunn--Fatscherthal\n--The Hohe Villerspitz--Sonnenberg--Magdalenen-Br\u00fcndl--Character\nof the Selrainthalers--Ober-Perfuss; Peter Anich--Kematen--V\u00f6ls;\nthe Blasienberg; S. Jodok--The Galwiese--The Schwarze-Kreuzkapelle;\nH\u00f6lzl's vow--Ferneck--Berg Isel--Noise of the rifle practice--Count\nv. Stachel--Natters and Mutters--Waidburg--The Nockspitze--G\u00f6tzens\n--Schloss V\u00f6llenberg; Oswald v. Wolkenstein--Birgitz--Axams--The\nSendersthal                                                          329\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nW\u00c4LSCH-TIROL.\n\nTHE W\u00c4LSCHEROLISCHE-ETSCHTHAL AND ITS TRIBUTARY VALLEYS.\n\nVal di Lagarina--Borghetto--Ala--Roveredo--Surrounding\ncastles--Dante at Lizzana--The Slavini di S. Marco--La Busa\ndel Barbaz; its myths--Serravalle--Schloss Junk--The Madonna\ndel Monte--Industries--Chapel of S. Columban--Trent, Festa of\nSt. Vigilius; comparison between Trent and Rome; the Domkirche;\nits notabilia; Sta. Maria Maggiore; seat of the council; assenting\ncrucifix; centenary celebration; legend of the organ-builder--Church\nof St. Peter; Chapel of S. Simonin; club; museum; Palazzi; Palazzo\nZambelli, Teufelspalast; its legend; General Gallas--The Madonna alle\nLaste; view of Trent--Dos Trento--St. Ingenuin's garden; St. Albuin's\napples--Lavis--French spoliation--Restitution--W\u00e4lsch Michel      340\n\nTributary valleys--Val di Non; Annaunia--Rochetta Pass\nW\u00e4lschmetz--Visiaun--Spaur Maggiore--Denno--Schloss Belasis--The\nSeidenbaum--Tobel Wild-see--Cles; Tavola Clesiana; Roman remains;\nthe Schwarzen Felder--SS. Sisinus, Martyrius and Alexander--Val di\nSole--Livo--Magras; Val di Rabbi; San Bernardo--Mal\u00e8--Charles Quint's\nvisit--Pellizano--Val di Pejo--Cogolo--Corno de' tre Signori--Val\nVermiglio--Tonale; the witches' sabbath there--Tregiovo--Cloz--U-Liebe\nFrau auf dem Gampen--Fondo--Sanzeno--Legend of the three brothers:\nmithraic bas-relief--The Tirolean Petrarch--St. Romediusthal; legend of\nSt. Romedius; angelic consecration; conversion of the false penitents;\nextraordinary construction and arrangement of the building; romantic\nsituation; fifteen centuries of uninterrupted veneration--Castel Thun;\nattachment of the people to the family; a Nonesade; aqueduct--Dombel;\nits Etruscan key; its import                                         358\n\nThe Avisiothal--Val di Cembra; its inaccessibility--Altrei;\npresentation of colours--Fleimserthal; Cavalese; its church a\nmuseum of Tirolese Art; local parliament; legend of its site;\nhandsome new church--Fassathal--Moena--Analogous English and\nFrench traditions--Marriage customs of the valley--The Feuriger\nVerr\u00e4ther--Vigo--The Marmolata; its legends--St. Ulrich              374\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nW\u00c4LSCH-TIROL.\n\nVAL SUGANA--GIUDICARIA--FOLKLORE.\n\nVal Sugana--Baselga--The Madonna di Pin\u00e8; legend of the Madonna di\nCaravaggio--Pergine; miners; the Canoppa--The Schloss--Marriage\ncustoms of the valley--Lake Caldonazzo--St. Hermes at\nCalzeranica--Bosentino--Nossa signora del Feles--The sleeper\nof Valle del Orco--Caldonazzo--Lafraun; legend of the disunited\nbrothers--Borgo, the Italian Meran--Franciscan convent; Castel\nTelvana; dangers of a carneval procession; Count Welsburg's\nvow--Gallant border defences--Stalactite caves of Costalta--Sette\nComuni--Castelalto--Strigno--Castelrotto--Cima d'Asta--Quarazza garnet\nquarry--Ivano--Grigno; Legend of St. Udalric--Castel Tesino--Canal\nSan Bovo to Primiero--Tale of Virginia Loss; humble heroism--Le Tezze;\nmodern heroes                                                        382\n\nJudicarien; its divisions--Castel Madruzz; Cardinal Karl Madruzz;\nhis dispensation; its conditions--Abraham's Garden--Sta. Massenza;\nBishop's Summer Palace--Loreto-kapelle--The Rendenathal; St. Vigilius;\nhis zeal; early admission to the episcopate; missionary labours;\nbuilds churches; overthrows idols; his stoning; his burial;\nthe rock cloven for his body to pass; the Acqua della Vela; the\nbread of Mortaso--S. Zulian; his legend; his penitence--Caresolo;\nits frescoes; another memorial of Charles Quint; his estimation of\nJews--New churches--Legends of Condino and Campiglio--Riva on the\nGarda-see; its churches; its olive branches--The Altissimo di Nago;\nview from S. Giacomo; optical illusion--Brentonico--The Ponte delle\nStreghe--Mori; tobacco cultivation                                   400\n\nCharacter of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol folklore--Orco-Sagen; his transformations in\nmany lands; transliterations of his name in Tirol--The Salvan and\nGannes; perhaps Etruscan genii--Salvanel; Bedelmon; Salvadegh--The\nBeatrik, identified with Dietrich von Bern--The Angane--What\ncame of marrying an Angana--The focarelli of Lunigiana--The\nFil\u00f2--Froberte--Donna Berta dal nas longh--The discriminating\nSalvan--The Angana's ring; tales of the Three Wishes and the\nFaithful Beasts; legend of the Drei Feyen of Thal Vent--Legend\nof St. K\u00fcmmerniss; her effigy in Cadore; the prevailing\nminstrel--Turlul\u00f9--Remnants of Etruscan language--'Storielle\nda rider'--The bear-hunters--The horrible snail--How to make a\nchurch tower grow--Social customs perhaps derived from Etruscan;\nsimilar to those of Lombardy and Lunigians--All Souls' Day; feast\nof Sta. Lucia; Christmas; St. Anthony's Day; Carneval; Giovedi de'\nGnocchi; St. Urban--Popular sayings about thunder, crickets, brambles,\ncockchafers, swallows, scorpions--Astronomical riddles               408\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n    Kufstein                                 Frontispiece.\n\n\nMAPS.\n\n    The Valleys of Tirol                    to face p. 12\n    Unterinnthal and Neighbourhood of Innsbruck        53\n    W\u00e4lsch-Tirol                                      341\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                                  THE\n                            VALLEYS OF TIROL\n                     THEIR TRADITIONS AND CUSTOMS.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nVORARLBERG.\n\n\n                .    .    .    .    . Everywhere\n                Fable and Truth have shed, in rivalry,\n                Each her peculiar influence. Fable came,\n                And laughed and sang, arraying Truth in flowers,\n                Like a young child her grandam. Fable came,\n                Earth, sea, and sky reflecting, as she flew,\n                A thousand, thousand colours not their own.--Rogers.\n\n\n'Traditions, myths, legends! what is the use of recording and\npropagating the follies and superstitions of a bygone period, which\nit is the boast of our modern enlightenment to have cast to the winds?'\n\nSuch is the hasty exclamation which allusion to these fantastic matters\nvery frequently elicits. With many they find no favour because they\nseem to yield no profit; nay, rather to set up a hindrance in the\nway of progress and culture.\n\nYet, on the other hand, in spite of their seeming foolishness,\nthey have worked themselves into favour with very various classes of\nreaders and students. There is an audacity in their imagery which no\nmere sensation-writer could attempt without falling Phaeton-like from\nhis height; and they plunge us so hardily into a world of their own,\nso preposterous and so unlike ours, while all the time describing it\nin a language we can understand without effort, that no one who seeks\noccasional relief from modern monotony but must experience refreshment\nin the weird excursions their jaunty will-o'the-wisp dance leads\nhim. But more than this; their sportive fancy has not only charmed\nthe dilettante; they have revealed that they hold inherent in them\nmysteries which have extorted the study of deep and able thinkers,\none of whom [15] insisted, now some years ago, that 'by this time the\nstudy of popular tales has become a recognized branch of the studies\nof mankind;' while important and erudite treatises from his own pen and\nthat of others [16] have elevated it further from a study to a science.\n\nAll who love poetry and art, as well as all who are interested in\nthe study of languages or races, all who have any care concerning\nthe stirrings of the human mind in its search after the supernatural\nand the infinite, must confess to standing largely in debt, in the\nabsence of more positive records of the earliest phases of thought,\nto these various mythologies.\n\nKarl Blind, in a recent paper on 'German Mythology,' [17] draws\nattention to some interesting considerations why the Germanic\ntraditions, which we chiefly meet with in Tirol, should have a\nfascination for us in this country, in the points of contact they\npresent with our language and customs. Not content with reckoning that\n'in the words of the Rev. Isaac Taylor we have obtruded on our notice\nthe names of the deities who were worshipped by the Germanic races'\non every Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of our lives,\nas we all know, he would even find the origin of 'Saturday' in the\nname of a god \"S\u00e6tere\" hidden, (a malicious deity whose name is but\nan alias for Loki,) of whom, it is recorded, that once at a great\nbanquet he so insulted all the heavenly rulers that they chained\nhim, Prometheus-like, to a rock, and made a serpent trickle down its\nvenom upon his face. His faithful wife Sigyn held a cup over him to\nprevent the venom reaching his face, but whenever she turned away to\nempty the cup his convulsive pains were such that the earth shook and\ntrembled.... Few people now-a-days, when pronouncing the simple word\n\"Saturday,\" think or know of this weird and pathetic myth. [18]... When\nwe go to Athens we easily think of the Greek goddess Athene, when\nwe go to Rome we are reminded of Romulus its mythic founder. But\nwhen we go to Dewerstone in Devonshire, to Dewsbury in Yorkshire,\nto Tewesley in Surrey, to Great Tew in Oxfordshire, to Tewen in\nHerefordshire--have a great many of us even an inkling that these are\nplaces once sacred to Tiu, the Saxon Mars? When we got to Wednesbury,\nto Wanborough, to Woodnesborough, to Wembury, to Wanstrow, to Wanslike,\nto Woden Hill, we visit localities where the Great Spirit Wodan was\nonce worshipped. So also we meet with the name of the God of Thunder\nin Thudersfield, Thundersleigh, Thursleigh, Thurscross, Thursby,\nand Thurso. The German Venus Freia is traceable in Fridaythorpe and\nFrathorpe, in Fraisthorpe and Freasley. Her son was Baldur, also called\nPhol or Pol, the sweet god of peace and light; his name comes out at\nBalderby, Balderton, Polbrook, Polstead and Polsden. S\u00e6tere is probably\nhidden in Satterleigh and Satterthwaite; Ostara or Eostre, the Easter\ngoddess of Spring, appears in two Essex parishes, Good Easter and\nHigh Easter, in Easterford, Easterlake and Eastermear. Again Hel, the\ngloomy mistress of the underworld, has given her name to Hellifield,\nHellathyrne, Helwith, Healeys and Helagh--all places in Yorkshire,\nwhere people seem to have had a particular fancy for that dark and\ngrimy deity. Then we have Asgardby and Aysgarth, places reminding us\nof Asgard, the celestial garden or castle of the \u00c6sir--the Germanic\nOlympus. And these instances might be multiplied by the hundred, so\nfull is England to this day of the vestiges of Germanic mythology. Far\nmore important is the fact that in this country, just as in Germany,\nwe find current folk-lore; and quaint customs and superstitious beliefs\naffecting the daily life, which are remnants of the ancient creed. A\nrime apparently so bereft of sense as\n\n\n    Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home!\n    Thy house is on fire!\n    Thy children at home!\n\n\ncan be proved to refer to a belief of our forefathers in the coming\ndownfall of the universe by a great conflagration. The ladybird\nhas its name from having been sacred to our Lady Freia. The words\naddressed to the insect were once an incantation--an appeal to the\ngoddess for the protection of the soul of the unborn, over whom in\nher heavenly abode she was supposed to keep watch and ward, and whom\nshe is asked to shield from the fire that consumes the world.... If we\never wean men from the crude notions that haunt them, and yet promote\nthe enjoyment of fancies which serve as embellishing garlands for\nthe rude realities of life, we cannot do better than promote a fuller\nscientific knowledge of that circle of ideas in which those moved who\nmoulded our very speech. We feel delight in the conceptions of the\nGreek Olympus. Painters and poets still go back to that old fountain\nof fancy. Why should we not seek for similar delight in studying the\nfigures of the Germanic Pantheon, and the rich folk-lore connected\nwith them? Why should that powerful Bible of the Norse religion,\nwhich contains such a wealth of striking ideas and descriptions in\nlanguage the most picturesque, not be as much perused as the Iliad,\nthe Odyssey, or the \u00c6neid? Is it too much to say that many even of\nthose who know of the Koran, of the precepts of Kou-fu-tsi and of\nBuddha, of the Zendavesta and the Vedas, have but the dimmest notion\nof that grand Germanic Scripture?...\n\n'Can it be said that there is a lack of poetical conception in\nthe figure of Wodan or Odin, the hoary ruler of the winds and the\nclouds, who, clad in a flowing mantle, careers through the sky on a\nmilk-white horse, from whose nostrils fire issues, and who is followed\nat night by a retinue of heroic warriors whom he leads into the golden\nshield-adorned Walhalla? Is there a want of artistic delineation in\nFreia--an Aphrodite and Venus combined, who changes darkness into\nlight wherever she appears--the goddess with the streaming golden\nlocks and siren voice, who hovers in her sun-white robe between\nheaven and earth, making flowers sprout along her path and planting\nirresistible longings in the hearts of men? Do we not see in bold and\nwell-marked outline the figure of the red-bearded, steel-handed Thor,\nwho rolls along the sky in his goat-drawn car, and who smites the\nmountain giants with his magic hammer? Are these mere spectres without\ndistinct contour?... are they not, even in their uncouth passions,\nthe representatives of a primitive race, in which the pulse throbs with\nyouthful freshness? Or need I allude to that fantastic theory of minor\ndeities, of fairies and wood-women, and elfin and pixies and cobolds,\nthat have been evolved out of all the forces of Nature by the Teutonic\nmind, and before whose bustling crowd even Hellenic imagination pales?\n\n'Then what a dramatic power has the Germanic mythology! The gods of\nclassic antiquity have been compared to so many statues ranged along\na stately edifice ... in the Germanic view all is active struggle,\ndramatic contest, with a deep dark background of inevitable fate that\ncontrols alike gods and men.'\n\nSuch are the Beings whom we meet wandering all over Tirol; transformed\noften into new personalities, invested with new attributes and\nsupplemented with many a mysterious companion, the offspring of an\nimagination informed by another order of thought, but all of them\nmore living, and more readily to be met with, than in any part of\nwonder-loving Germany itself.\n\nApart from their mythological value, how large is the debt we owe to\nlegends and traditions in building up our very civilization. Their\ninfluence on art is apparent, from the earliest sculptured stones\nunearthed in India or Etruria to the latest breathing of symbolism\nin the very reproductions of our own day. In poetry, no less a master\nthan Dante lamented that their influence was waning at the very period\nascribed a few years ago as the date of their taking rise. Extolling\nthe simpler pursuits and pleasures of his people at a more primitive\ndate than his own, 'One by the crib kept watch,' he says, 'studious\nto still the infant plaint with words which erst the parents'\nminds diverted; another, the flaxen maze upon the distaff twirling,\nrecounted to her household, tales of Troy, Fiesole, and Rome.' [19]\nTheir work is patent in his own undying pages, and in those of all\ntrue poets before and since.\n\nBesides all this, have they not preserved to us, as in a registering\nmirror, the manners and habits of thought of the ages preceding\nours? Have they not served to record as well as to mould the noblest\naspirations of those who have gone before? 'What are they,' asks an\nelegant Italian writer of the present day, [20] treating, however,\nonly of the traditions of the earliest epoch of Christianity, 'but\nnarratives woven beside the chimney, under the tent, during the halt\nof the caravan, embodying as in a lively picture the popular customs\nof the apostolic ages, the interior life of the rising (nascente)\nChristian society? In them we have a delightful opportunity of\nseeing stereotyped the great transformation and the rich source of\nideas and sentiments which the new belief opened up, to illuminate\nthe common people in their huts no less than the patricians in\ntheir palaces. Those even who do not please to believe the facts\nthey expose are afforded a genuine view of the habits of life, the\nmanner of speaking and behaving--all that expresses and paints the\nerudition of those men and of those times. Thus, it may be affirmed,\nthey comment beautifully on the Gospels, and in the midst of fables\nis grafted a great abundance of truth.\n\n'If we would investigate the cause of their multiplication, and of the\nfavour with which they were received from the earliest times, we shall\nfind it to consist chiefly in the need and love of the marvellous\nwhich governed the new society, notwithstanding the severity of\nits dogmas. Neophytes snatched from the superstitions of paganism\nwould not have been able all at once to suppress every inclination\nfor poetical fables. They needed another food according to their\nfancy. And indeed were they not great marvels (though of another\norder from those to which they were accustomed) which were narrated\nto them? The aggregate mass was, however, increased by the way in\nwhich they lived and the scarcity of communication; every uncertain\nrumour was thus readily dressed up in the form of a wonderful fact.\n\n'Again, dogmatic and historical teaching continued long to be oral;\nso that when an apostle, or the apostle of an apostle, arrived in\nany city and chained the interest of the faithful with a narration\nof the acts of Jesus he had himself witnessed or received from the\npersonal narrative of witnesses, his words ran along from mouth to\nmouth, and each repeater added something, suggested by his faith\nor by his heart. In this way his teaching constituted itself into a\nlegend, which in the end was no longer the narrative of one, but the\nexpression of the faith of all.\n\n'Thus whoever looks at legends only as isolated productions of\na period most worthy of study, without attending to the influence\nthey exercised on later epochs, must even so hold them in account as\nliterary monuments of great moment.'\n\nNor is this the case only with the earliest legends. The popular mind\nin all ages has evinced a necessity for filling up all blanks in the\nhistories of its heroes. The probable, and even the merely possible,\nis idealized; what might have been is reckoned to have happened; the\nlogical deductions as to what a favourite saint or cobbold ought to\nhave done, according to certain fixed principles of action previously\nascribed to his nature, are taken to be the very acts he did perform;\nand thus, even those traditions which are the most transparently\nhuman in their origin, have served to show reflected in action the\nvirtues and perfections which it is the boast of religion to inculcate.\n\nA Flemish writer on Spanish traditions similarly remarks, 'Peoples who\nare cut off from the rest of the world by such boundaries as seas,\nmountains, or wastes, by reason of the difficulty of communication\nthus occasioned, are driven to concentrate their attention to local\nevents; and in their many idle hours they work up their myths and\ntales into poems, which stand them in stead of books, and, in fact,\nconstitute a literature.' [21]\n\nEurope possesses in Tirol one little country at least in whose mountain\nfastnesses a store of these treasures not only lies enshrined, but\nwhere we may yet see it in request. Primitive and unsophisticated\ntillers of the soil, accustomed to watch as a yearly miracle the\nwelling up of its fruits, and to depend for their hopes of subsistence\non the sun and rain in the hand of their Creator, its children\nhave not yet acquired the independence of thought and the habit of\nreferring all events to natural causes, which is generated by those\nindustries of production to which the human agent appears to be all in\nall. Among them we have the opportunity of seeing these expositions\nof the supernatural, at home as it were in their contemporary life,\nsupplying a representation of what has gone before, only to be\ncompared to the revelations of deep-cut strata to the geologist,\nand the unearthing of buried cities to the student of history. It\nis further satisfactory to find that, in spite of our repugnance to\nsuperstition, this unreasoning realization of the supernatural has in\nno way deteriorated the people. Their public virtues, seen in their\nindomitable devotion to their country, have been conspicuous in all\nages, no less than their heroic labours in grappling with the obstacles\nof soil and climate; while all who have visited them concur in bearing\ntestimony to their possession of sterling homely qualities, frugality,\nmorality, hospitality; and, for that which is of most importance to\nthe tourist, all who have been among them will bear witness to the\njustice of the remark in the latest Guide-book, that, except just in\nthe more cultivated centres of Innsbruck, Brixen, and Botzen, you need\ntake no thought among the Tiroleans concerning the calls on your purse.\n\n\n\nMy first acquaintance with Tirol was made at Feldkirch, where I had to\npay somewhat dearly for my love of the legendary and the primitive. Our\nplan for the autumn was to join a party of friends from Italy at\nInnsbruck, spend some months of long-promised enjoyment in exploring\nTirol, and return together to winter in Rome. The arrangements of\nthe journey had been left to me; and as I delight in getting beyond\nrailways and travelling in a conveyance whose pace and hours are more\nunder one's own control, I traced our road through France to B\u00e2le,\nand then by way of Zurich and Rorschach and Oberriet to Feldkirch\n(which I knew to be a post-station) as a base of operations, for\nleisurely threading our mountain way through Bludenz and Landeck and\nthe intervening valleys to Innsbruck.\n\nHow our plan was thwarted [22] I will relate presently. I still\nrecommend this line of route to others less encumbered with luggage, as\nleading through out-of-the-way and unfrequented places. The projected\nrailway between Feldkirch and Innsbruck is now completed as far as\nBludenz; and Feldkirch is reached direct by the new junction with\nthe Rorschach-Chur railway at Buchsstation. [23]\n\nFeldkirch affords excursions, accessible for all, to the\nMargarethenkapf and the St. Veitskapf, from either of which a glorious\nview is to be enjoyed. The latter commands the stern gorges through\nwhich the Ill makes its final struggles before losing its identity\nin the Rhine--struggles which are often terrific and devastating,\nfor every few years it carries down a whole torrent of pebbles for\nmany days together. The former overlooks the more smiling tracts we\ntraversed in our forced march, locally called the Ardetzen, hemmed in\nby noble mountain peaks. Then its fortifications, intended at one time\nto make it a strong border town against Switzerland, have left some\nfew picturesque remains, and in particular the so-called Katzenthurm,\nnamed from certain clumsy weapons styled 'cat's head guns,' which\nonce defended it, and which were ultimately melted down to make a\nchime of peaceful bells. And then it has two or three churches to\nwhich peculiar legends attach. Not the least curious of these is\nthat of St. Fidelis, a local saint, whose cultus sprang up as late\nas the year 1622, when he was laid in wait for and assassinated\nby certain fanatical reprobates, whose consciences his earnest\npreaching had disturbed. He was declared a martyr, and canonized\nat Rome in 1746. The sword with which he was put to death, the bier\non which his body was carried back into the town, and other things\nbelonging to him, are venerated as relics. About eight miles outside\nthe town another saint is venerated with a precisely similar history,\nbut dating from the year 844. This is St. Eusebius, one of a band of\nScotch missionaries, who founded a monastery there called Victorsberg,\nthe oldest foundation in all Vorarlberg. St. Eusebius, returning\nfrom a pilgrimage one day, lay down to sleep in this neighbourhood,\nbeing overtaken by the darkness of night. Heathen peasants, who had\nresisted his attempts at converting them, going out early in the\nmorning to mow, found him lying on the ground, and one of them cut\noff his head with his scythe. To their astonishment the decapitated\nbody rose to its feet, and, taking up the head in its hands, walked\nstraight to the door of the monastery, where the brethren took it\nin and laid it to rest in the churchyard. A little further (reached\nmost conveniently by a by-path off the road near Altenstadt, mentioned\nbelow,) is Rankweil. In the church on Our Lady's Mount (Frauenberg) is\na little chapel on the north side, where a reddish stone is preserved\n(Der rothe Stein in der Fridolinskapelle), of which the following story\nis told. St. Fridolin was a Scotch missionary in the seventh century,\nand among other religious houses had founded one at M\u00fcsigen. Two\nnoblemen of this neighbourhood (brothers) held him in great respect,\nand before dying, one of them, Ursus by name, endowed the convent\nwith all his worldly goods. Sandolf, the other, who did not carry\nhis admiration of the saint to so great a length as to renounce\nhis brother's rich inheritance, disputed the possession, and it was\ndecided that Fridolin must give it up unless he could produce the\ntestimony of the donor. Fridolin went in faith to Glarus, where Ursus\nhad been buried two years before. At his call the dead man rose to\nhis feet, and pushing the grave-stone aside, walked, hand-in-hand,\nwith his friend back to Rankweil, where he not only substantiated\nFridolin's statements, but so effectually frightened his brother that\nhe immediately added to the gift all his own possessions also. But\nthe story says that when the judgment requiring him to produce the\ntestimony of the dead was first given, Fridolin went to pray in the\nchapel of Rankweil, and there a shining being appeared to him, and\ntold him to go to Glarus and call Ursus; and as he spoke Fridolin's\nknees sank into the 'red stone,' making the marks now seen. [24]\n\nThe reason given why this hill is called Our Lady's Mound is, that on\nit once stood a fortress called Sch\u00f6nberg. Sch\u00f6nberg having been burnt\ndown, its owner, the knight of H\u00f6rnlingen, set about rebuilding it;\nbut whatever work his workmen did in the day-time, was destroyed by\ninvisible hands during the night. A pious old workman, too, used to\nhear a mysterious voice saying that instead of a fortress they should\nbuild a sanctuary in honour of the mother of God. The knight yielded to\nthe commands of the voice, and the church was built out of the ruins\nof his castle. In this church, too, is preserved a singular antique\ncross, studded with coloured glass gems, which the people venerate\nbecause it was brought down to them by the mountain stream. It is\nobviously of very ancient workmanship, and an inscription records\nthat it was repaired in 1347.\n\nWinding round the mountain path which from Rankweil runs behind\nFeldkirch to Satteins, the convent of Valduna is reached; and\nthe origin of this sanctuary is ascribed to a legend, of which\ncounterparts crop up in various places, of a hermit who passed half\na life within a hollow tree, [25] and acquired the lasting veneration\nof the neighbouring people.\n\nAnother mountain sanctuary which received its veneration from\nthe memory of a tree-hermit, is S. Gerold, situated on a little\nelevation below the Hoch Gerach, about seven miles on the east side of\nFeldkirch. It dates from the tenth century. Count Otho, Lord of Sax in\nthe Rhinethal, was out hunting, when the bear to which he was giving\nchase sought refuge at the foot of an old oak tree, whither his dogs\ndurst not follow it. Living as a hermit within this oak tree Count Otho\nfound his long lost father, S. Gerold, who years before had forsaken\nhis throne and found there a life of contemplation in the wild. [26]\nThe tomb of the saint and his two sons is to be seen in the church,\nand some curious frescoes with the story of his adventures.\n\nAnother way to be recommended for entering Vorarlberg is by crossing\nLake Constance from Rorschach to Lindau, a very pleasant trajet of\nabout two hours in the tolerably well-appointed, but not very swift\nlake-steamers. Lindau itself is a charming old place, formed out of\nthree islands on the edge of the lake; but as it is outside the border\nof Tirol, I will only note in favour of the honesty of its inhabitants,\nthat I saw a tree laden with remarkably fine ripe pears overhanging a\nwall in the principal street, and no street-boy raised a hand to them.\n\nThe first town in Tirol by this route is Bregenz, which reckons as\nthe capital of Vorarlberg. It may be reached by boat in less than\nhalf an hour. It is well situated at the foot of the Gebhartsberg,\nwhich affords a most delightful, and in Tirol widely celebrated,\nview over Lake Constance and the Appenzel mountains and the rapid\nRhine between; and here, at either the Post Hotel or the Black Eagle,\nthere is no lack of carriages for reaching Feldkirch. Bregenz deserves\nto be remembered as the birth-place of one of the best modern painters\nof the Munich-Roman school, Flatz, who I believe, spends much of his\ntime there.\n\nAmong the objects of interest in Bregenz are the Capuchin Convent,\nsituated on a wooded peak of the Gebhardsberg, founded in 1636;\non another peak, S. Gebhard auf dem Pfannenberge, called after\na bishop of Constance, who preached the Christian faith in the\nneighbourhood, and was martyred. Bregenz has an ancient history and\nhigh lineage. Its lords, who were powerful throughout the Middle\nAges, were of sufficiently high estate at the time of Charlemagne\nthat he should take Hildegard, the daughter of one of them, to be his\nwife, and there is a highly poetical popular tale about her. Taland\n(a favourite name in Vorarlberg) was a suitor who had, with jealous\neye, seen her given to the powerful Emperor, and in the bitterness\nof his rejected affection, so calumniated her to Charlemagne, that\nhe repudiated her and married Desiderata, the Lombard princess. [27]\nHildegard accepted her trial with angelic resignation, and devoted\nher life to tending pilgrims at Rome. Meantime Taland, stricken\nwith blindness, came to Rome in penitential pilgrimage, where he\nfell under the charitable care of Hildegard. Hildegard's saintly\nhandling restored his sight--not only that of his bodily eyes, but\nalso his moral perception of truth and falsehood. In reparation for\nthe evil he had done, he now led her back to Charlemagne, confessed\nall, and she was once more restored to favour and honour. Bregenz\nhas also another analogous and equally beautiful legend. One of\nits later counts, Ulrich V., was supposed by his people to have\ndied in war in Hungary, about the year 916. Wendelgard, his wife,\ndevoted her widowhood to the cloistral life, but took the veil under\nthe condition that she should every year hold a popular festival\nand distribution of alms in memory of her husband. On the fourth\nanniversary, as she was distributing her bounty, a pilgrim came\nforward who allowed himself the liberty of kissing the hand which\nbestowed the dole. Wendelgard's indignation was changed into delight\nwhen she recognized that the audaciously gallant pilgrim was no other\nthan her own lord, who, having succeeded in delivering himself from\ncaptivity, had elected to make himself thus known to her. Salomo,\nBishop of Constance, dispensed her from her vow, and Ulrich passed\nthe remainder of his life at Bregenz by her side. Another celebrated\nworthy of Bregenz, whose name must not be passed over, is 'Ehreguota'\nor 'Ehre Guta,' a name still dear to every peasant of Vorarlberg,\nand which has perpetuated itself in the appellation of Hergotha,\na favourite Christian name there to the present day. She was a poor\nbeggar-woman really named Guta, whose sagacity and courage delivered\nher country people from an attack of the Appenzell folk, to which they\nhad nearly succumbed in the year 1408; it was the 'honour' paid her by\nher patriotic friends that added the byname of 'Ehre,' and made them\nerect a monument to her. One of the variants of the story makes her,\ninstead of a beggar-woman, the beautiful young bride of Count Wilhelm\nof Montfort-Bregenz; some have further sought to identify her with\nthe goddess Epona.\n\nPursuing the journey southwards towards Feldkirch, every step is full\nof natural beauty and legendary interest. At first leaving Bregenz\nyou have to part company with Lake Constance, and leave in the right\nhand distance the ruins of Castle Fussach. On the left is Riedenberg,\nwhich, if not great architecturally, is interesting as a highly\nuseful institution, under the fostering care of the present Empress of\nAustria, for the education of girls belonging to families of a superior\nclass with restricted means. From Fussach the road runs parallel to\nthe Rhine; there is a shorter road by Dornbirn, but less interesting,\nwhich joins it again at G\u00f6tzis, near Hohenembs. The two roads separate\nbefore Fussach at Wolfurth, where there is an interesting chapel,\nthe bourne of a pilgrimage worth making if only for the view over\nthe lake. The country between S. John H\u00f6chst and Lustenau is much\nfrequented in autumn for the sake of the shooting afforded by the wild\nbirds which haunt its secluded recesses on the banks of the Rhine at\nthat season. At Lustenau there is a ferry over the Rhine.\n\nThe favourite saints of this part of the country are Merboth, Diedo,\nand Ilga--two brothers and a sister of a noble family, hermit-apostles\nand martyrs of the eleventh century. Ilga established her hermit-cell\nin the Schwarzenberg, just over Dornbirn, where not only all dainty\nfood, but even water, was wanting. The people of Dornbirn also wanted\nwater; and though she had not asked the boon for herself, she asked it\nfor her people, and obtained from the hard rock, a miraculous spring\nof sparkling water which even the winter cold could not freeze. Ilga\nused to fetch this water for her own use, and carry it up the mountain\npaths in her apron. One day she spilt some of it on the rock near\nher cell on her arrival, and see! as it touched the rock, the rock\nresponded to the appeal, and from out there flowed a corresponding\nstream, which has never ceased to flow to this day.\n\nThe most important and interesting spot between Bregenz and Feldkirch,\nis Embs or Hohenembs, with its grand situation, its picturesque\nbuildings and its two ruined castles, which though distinguished as\nAlt and Neu Hohenembs, do not display at first sight any very great\ndisparity of age; both repay a visit, but the view from Alt Hohenembs\nis the finer. The virtues and bravery of the lords of Hohenembs\nhave been duly chronicled. James Von Embs served by the side of the\nchevalier Bayard in the battle of Ravenna, and having at the first\nonset received his death wound, raised himself up again to pour out\nhis last breath in crying to his men, 'The King of France has been\nour fair ally, let us serve him bravely this day!' His grandson,\nwho was curiously enough christened James Hannibal, was the first\nCount of Embs, and his descendants often figure in records of the\nwars of the Austrian Empire, particularly in those connected with\nthe famous Schmalkaldischer Krieg, and are now merged in the family\nof Count Harrach.\n\nThe 'Swiss embroidery' industry here crosses the Rhine, and, in\nthe female gatherings which it occasions, as in the 'Filo' of the\nsouth, many local chronicles and legends are, or at least have been,\nperpetuated.\n\nIn the parish church, I have been told by a traveller, that the\ncardinal's hat of S. Charles Borromeo is preserved, though why it\nshould be so I cannot tell; and I think I have myself had it shown\nme both at Milan and, if I mistake not, also at the church in Rome\nwhence he had his 'title.'\n\nThe ascent to Neu Hohenembs has sufficient difficulty and danger for\nthe unpractised pedestrian to give it special interest, which the\nroaring of the waterfall tends to excite. A little way beyond it the\nwater was formerly turned to the purpose of an Italian pescheria (or\nfish-preserve for the use of the castle), which is not now very well\npreserved. Further up still are the ruins of Alt Hohenembs. There are\nalso prettily situated sulphur baths a little way out of the town,\nmuch frequented from June to September by the country people. It\nis curious that the Jews, who have never hitherto settled in large\nnumbers in any part of Tirol, have here a synagogue; and I am told\nthat it serves for nearly a hundred families scattered over the\nsurrounding country, though there are not a dozen even at Innsbruck.\n\nAll I have met with of interest between this and Feldkirch, I have\nmentioned under the head of excursions from Feldkirch.\n\nStretching along the bank of the Rhine to the south of Feldkirch, is\nthe little principality of Lichtenstein or Liechtenstein, a territory\nof some three square miles and a half in extent, which yet gives its\npossessor--lately by marriage made a member of English society--certain\nseignorial rights. The chief industry of the people is the Swiss\nembroidery. Vaduz, its chief town, is situated in its centre, and above\nit, in the midst of a thick wood, is the somewhat imposing and well\nkept up castle of Lichtenstein. Further south, overhanging the Rhine,\nis Schloss Gutenberg, and beyond, a remarkable warm sulphur spring,\nwhich runs only in summer, at a temperature of 98\u00b0 to 100\u00b0 Fahrenheit;\nit is crowded by Swiss and Tiroleans from June to September, though\nunknown to the rest of the world. [28] It was discovered in the\nyear 1240 by a chamois-hunter, and was soon after taken in charge\nby a colony of Benedictine monks, established close by at Pf\u00e4ffers,\nwho continued to entertain those who visited it until it was taken\npossession of by the Communal Council of Chur, and the monastery\nturned into a poor-house. The country round it is exceedingly wild and\nromantic, and there is a celebrated ravine called the Tamina-Schlund,\nof so-called immeasurable depth, where at certain hours of a sunny\nday a wonderful play of light is to be observed. Pf\u00e4ffers is just\noutside the boundary of Tirol; the actual boundary line is formed by\nthe Rh\u00e6tian Alps, which are traversed by a pass called Luziensteig,\nafter St. Lucius, 'first Christian king of Britain,' who, tradition\nsays, preached the gospel to Lichtenstein. [29] The road from Feldkirch\nto Innsbruck first runs along the Illthal, which between Feldkirch\nand Bludenz is also called the Wallgau, and merges at Bludenz into\nthe Walserthal on the left or north side. On the right or south side\nare the Montafonthal, Klosterthal, and Silberthal.\n\nSoon after leaving Feldkirch the mountains narrow upon the road,\nwhich crosses the Ill at Felsenau, forming what is called the gorge\nof the Ill, near Frastanz. Round this terrible pass linger memories\nof one of the direst struggles for independence the Tiroleans ever\nwaged. In 1499 the Swiss hosts were shown the inlet, through the\nmountains that so well protect Tirol, by a treacherous peasant\nwhom their gold had bought. [30] A little shepherd lad seeing them\nadvance, in his burning desire to save his country, blew such a call\nto arms upon his horn that he never desisted till he had blown all\nthe breath out of his little body. The subsequent battle was fierce\nand determined; and when it slackened from loss of men, the women\nrushed in and fought with the bravest. So earnestly was the cause of\nthose who fell felt to be the cause of all, that even to the present\ntime the souls of those who were slain that day are remembered in\nthe prayers said as the procession nears the spot when blessing\nthe fields on Rogation-Wednesday. On the heights above Valduna\nare the striking ruins of a convent of Poor Clares, one of those\nabandoned at the fiat of Joseph II. It was founded on occasion of\na hermit declaring he had often seen a beautiful angel sitting and\nsinging enchantingly on the peak. Below is a tiny lake, which lends\nan additional charm to the tranquil beauty of the spot. The patron\nsaint of the Walserthal is St. Joder or Theodul (local renderings of\nTheodoric), and his legend is most fantastic. St. Joder went to Rome\nto see the Pope; the Pope, in commendation of his zeal, gave him a\nfine bell for his church. Homewards went St. Joder with his bell,\nbut when he came to the mountains it was more than he could manage,\nto drag the bell after him. What did he then do? He bethought him\nthat he had, by his prayers and exorcisms, conjured the devil out\nof the valley where he had preached the faith, so why should not\nprayer and exorcism conjure him to carry the bell for the service of\nhis faithful flock? If St. Joder's faith did not remove mountains it\nremoved the obstacles they presented, and many a bit of rude carving\nin mountain chapels throughout the Walserthal shows a youthful saint,\nin rich episcopal vestments, leading by a chain, like a showman his\nbear, the arch enemy of souls, crouched and sweating under the weight\nof the bell whose holy tones are to sound his own ban. [31]\n\nBludenz retains some picturesque remnants of its old buildings. It\nbelonged to the Counts of Sonnenberg, and hence it is said that it\nis often called by that name; but it is perhaps more probable that\nthe height above Bludenz was called Sonnenberg, in contrast with\nSchattenberg, above Feldkirch, and that its lords derived their name\nfrom it. The story of the fidelity of Bludenz to Friedrich mit der\nleeren Tasche, I have narrated in another place. [32]\n\nThe valley of Montafon has for its arms the cross keys of St. Peter,\nin memory of a traditionary but anachronistic journey of Pope John\nXXIII. to the Council of Constance, in 1414. [33] In memory of the\nsame journey a joy-peal is rung on every Wednesday throughout the year.\n\nA little way south of Bludenz, down the Montafon valley, is a\nchapel on a little height called S. Anton, covering the spot where\ntradition says was once a mighty city called Prazalanz, destroyed by an\navalanche. Near here is a tiny stream, of which the peasants tell the\nfollowing story:--They say up the mountain lives a beautiful maiden,\nset to guard a treasure, and she can only be released when some one\nwill thrice kiss a loathsome toad, [34] which has its place on the\ncover of the treasury, and the maiden feels assured no one will ever\nmake the venture. She weeps evermore, and they call this streamlet the\n'Tr\u00e4chnab\u00e4chle'--the Tear-rill.\n\nThe valley of Montafon is further celebrated for its production\nof kirschwasser.\n\nOpposite Dalaas is a striking peak, attaining an elevation of some\n5,000 feet, called the Christberg. On the opposite side to Dalaas is\na chapel of St. Agatha; in the days of the silver mining of Tirol, in\nthe fifteenth century, silver was found in this neighbourhood. On one\noccasion a landslip imprisoned a number of miners in their workings. In\nterror at their threatened death, they vowed that if help reached\nthem in time, they would build a chapel on the spot to commemorate\ntheir deliverance. Help did reach them, and they kept their vow. The\nchapel is built into the living rock where this occurred, and a grey\nmark on the rock is pointed out as a supernatural token which cannot\nbe effaced, to remind the people of the deliverance that took place\nthere. It is reached from Dalaas by a terribly steep and rugged path,\nrunning over the Christberg, near the summit of which may be found,\nby those whom its hardships do not deter, another chapel, or wayside\nshrine, consisting of an image of the Blessed Virgin under a canopy,\nwith an alcoved seat beneath it for the votary to rest in, called\n'Das Bruederh\u00fcsle,' and this is the reason of its name:--The wife\nof a Count Tanberg gave birth to a dead child; in the fulness of\ntheir faith, the parents mourned that to the soul of their little\none Christian baptism had been denied, more than the loss of their\noffspring. In pursuance of a custom then in vogue in parts of Tirol,\nif not elsewhere, the Count sent the body of the infant to be laid on\nthe altar of St. Joseph, in the parish church, in the hope that at the\nintercession of the fosterfather of the Saviour it might revive for\na sufficient interval to receive the sacrament of admission into the\nChristian family. The servant, however, instead of carrying his burden\nto the church at Schruns (in Montafonthal), finding himself weary by\nthe time he had climbed up the Christberg, dug a grave, and buried\nit instead. The next year there was another infant, also born dead;\nthis time the Count determined to carry it himself to the church,\nand by the time he had toiled to the same spot he too was weary,\nand sat down to rest. As he sat he heard a little voice crying from\nunder the ground, '\u00e4tti, n\u00fcm mi' \u00f4 met!' [35] The Count turned up the\nsoil, and found the body of his last year's infant. Full of joy he\ncarried both brothers to the altar of St. Joseph, at Schruns; here,\ncontinues the legend, his prayer went up before the divine throne;\nboth infants gave signs of life before devout witnesses; baptism could\nbe validly administered, and they, laid to rest in holy ground. [36]\n\nAfter Dalaas the road assumes a character of real grandeur, both as an\nengineering work and as a study of nature. The size of the telegraph\npoles alone (something like fourteen inches in diameter) gives an idea\nof the sort of storms the road is built to resist; so do the veritable\nfortifications, erected here and there, to protect it from avalanches.\n\nThe summit (6,218 ft.) of the Arlberg, whence the province has its\nname--and which in turn is named from Schloss Arlen, the ruins of which\nare to be observed from the road--is marked by a gigantic crucifix,\noverhanging the road. An inscription cut in the rock records that\nit was opened for traffic (after three hard years of labour) on\nSt. James's day, 1787; but a considerable stretch of the road now\nused was made along a safer and more sheltered pass in 1822-4, when\na remarkable viaduct called the Franzensbr\u00fccke was built. Two posts,\nstriped with the local colours, near the crucifix above-named, mark\nthe boundary of Vorarlberg and Oberinnthal. As we pass them we should\ntake leave of Vorarlberg; but it may be convenient to mention in this\nplace some few of the more salient of the many points of interest on\nthe onward road to Innsbruck.\n\nThe opening of the Stanzerthal, indeed, on which the road is carried,\nseems to belong of right to Vorarlberg, for its first post-halt\nof S. Christof came into existence through the agency of a poor\nfoundling boy of that province, who was so moved by the sufferings\nof travellers at his date (1386), that he devoted his life to their\nservice, and by begging collected money to found the nucleus of\nthe hospice and brotherhood of S. Christof, which lasted till the\ntime of Joseph II. The pass at its highest part is free from snow\nonly from the beginning of July to September, and in the depth\nof winter it accumulates to a height of twenty feet. The church\ncontains considerable remains of the date of its founder, Heinrich\ndas Findelkind; of this date, or not much later, must be the gigantic\nstatue of S. Christopher, patron of wayfarers.\n\nThe Stanzerthal, without being less grand, presents a much more smiling\nprospect than that traversed during the later part of the journey\nthrough Vorarlberg. The waters of the Rosanna and the Trisanna flow\nby the way; the mountains stretch away in the distance, in every hue\nof brilliant colouring; the whole landscape is studded with villages\nclustering round their church steeples, while Indian-corn-fields,\nfruit-gardens in which the barberry holds no insignificant place,\nand vast patches of a deep-tinted wild flora, fill up the picture.\n\nAt Schloss Wiesburg is the opening into the Patznaunthal, the chief\nvillage of which is Ischgl, where the custom I have heard of in other\nparts of Tirol, and also in Brittany, prevails, of preserving the\nskulls of the dead in an open vault in the churchyard, with their\nnames painted on them. Nearly opposite it, off the left side of the\nroad lies Gr\u00fcns or Grins, so called because it affords a bright green\npatch amid the grey of the rocks. It was a more important place in\nmedi\u00e6val times, for the road then ran beside it; the bridge with its\npointed arches dates from the year 1639. Margareta Maultasch, with\nwhose place in Tirolese history we must make acquaintance further on,\nhad a house here which still contains some curious mural paintings.\n\nLandeck [37] is an important thriving little town, with the Inn flowing\nthrough its midst. It has two fine remains of ancient castles: Schloss\nLandeck, now used partly as a hospice; and Schloss Schrofenstein,\nof difficult access, haunted by a knight, who gave too ready ear\nto the calumnies of a rejected suitor of his wife, and must wander\nround its precincts wringing his fettered hands and crying 'Woe!' On\nthe slope of the hill crowned by Schloss Landeck stands the parish\nchurch. Its first foundation dates from the fifteenth century, when\na Landecker named Henry and his wife Eva, having lost their two\nchildren in a forest, on vowing a church in honour of the Blessed\nVirgin, met a bear and a wolf each carrying one of the children\ntenderly on its back. It has a double-bulbed tower of much later\ndate, and it was restored with considerable care a few years back;\nbut many important parts remain in their original condition, including\nsome early sculpture. In the churchyard are two important monuments,\none dating from the fifteenth century, of Oswald Y. Schrofenstein;\nthe other, a little gothic chapel, consecrated on August 22, 1870,\nin memory of the Landeck contingent of the Tirolean sharpshooters,\nwho assisted in defending the borders of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol in 1866. [38]\nAbout two or three miles from Landeck there is a celebrated waterfall,\nat a spot called Letz.\n\nImst was formerly celebrated for its breed of canary-birds, which\nits townsmen used to carry all over Europe. The church contains a\nvotive tablet, put up by some of them on occasion of being saved from\nshipwreck in the Mediterranean. It has a good old inn, once a knightly\npalace. From Imst the Pitzthal branches southwards; but concerning\nit I have not space to enlarge, as the more interesting excursion\nto F\u00fcssen, on the Bavarian frontier, must not be passed over. The\npleasantest way of making this excursion is to engage a carriage for\nthe whole distance at Imst, but a diligence or 'Eilwagen,' running\ndaily between Innsbruck and F\u00fcssen, may be met at Nassereit, some\nthree miles along the Gunglthal. At Nassereit I will pause a moment\nto mention a circumstance, bearing on the question of the formation\nof legends, which seemed to take considerable hold on the people,\nand was narrated to me with a manifest impression of belief in the\nsupernatural. There was a pilgrimage from a place called Biberwier\nto a shrine of the Virgin, at Dormiz, on August 10, 1869. It was\nto gain the indulgence of the Vatican Council, and the priest of\nBiberwier in exhorting his people to treat it entirely as a matter of\npenance, and not as a party of pleasure, had made use of a figure of\nspeech bidding them not to trust themselves to the bark of worldly\npleasure, for, he assured them, it had many holes in it, and would\nswamp them instead of bearing them on to the joys of heaven. Four\nof the men, however, persisted in disregarding his warning, and in\ncombining a trip to the Fernsee, one of two romantically situated\nmountain lakes overlooked by the ancient castle of Sigmundsburg, on\na promontory running into it and with its Wirthshaus 'auf dem Fern'\nforming a favourite though difficult pleasure-excursion. The weather\nwas treacherous; the boat was swamped in the squall which ensued,\nand all four men were drowned. From Nassereit also is generally made\nthe ascent of the Tschirgants, the peak which has constantly formed\na remarkable feature in the landscape all the way from Arlberg.\n\nThe road to F\u00fcssen passes by Sigmundsburg, Fernsee and Biberwier\nmentioned in the preceding narrative also the beautiful Blendsee and\nMittersee (accessible only to the pedestrian) or rather the by-paths\nleading to them. Leermoos is the next place passed,--a straggling,\ninconsiderable hamlet, but affording a pleasing incident in the\nlandscape, when, after passing it, the steep road winds back upon it\nand reveals it again far far below you. It is, however, quite possible\nto put up for a night with the accommodation afforded by the Post inn,\nand by this means one of the most justly celebrated natural beauties\nmay be enjoyed, in the sunset effects produced by the lighting up of\nthe Zugspitzwand.\n\nNext is L\u00e4hn, whose situation disposes one to believe the tradition\nthat it has its name from the avalanches (Lawinen, locally contracted\ninto L\u00e4hne) by which the valley is frequently visited, and chiefly\nfrom a terrible one, in the fifteenth century, which destroyed the\nvillage, till then called Mitterwald. A carrier who had been wont to\npass that way, struck with compassion at the desolation of the place,\naided in providing the surviving inhabitants to rebuild their chapel,\nand tradition fables of him that they were aided by an angel. The\nroad opens out once more as we approach Heiterwang; there is also a\npost-road hence to Ammergau; here, a small party may put up at the\nRossl, for the sake of visiting the Plansee, the second largest lake\nof Tirol, on the right (east) of the road; on the left is the opening\nof the Lechthal, a difficult excursion even to the most practised\npedestrian. For those who study convenience the Plansee may be better\nvisited from Reutte.\n\nAfter Heiterwang the rocks close in again on the road as we pass\nthrough the Ehrenberger Klause, celebrated again and again through\nthe pages of Tirolese history, from the very earliest times, for\nheroic defences; its castle is an important and beautiful ruin;\nand so the road proceeds to Reutte, F\u00fcssen, and the much visited\nLustschloss of Schwangau; but as these are in Bavaria I must not\noccupy my Tirolese pages with them, but mention only the Mangtritt,\nthe boundary pass, where a cross stands out boldly against the sky,\nin memory of S. Magnus, the apostle of these valleys. The devil,\nfurious at the success of the saint with his conversion of the heathen\ninhabitants, sent a tribe of wild and evil men, says one version of\nthe legend, a formidable dragon according to another, to exterminate\nhim; he was thus driven to the narrow glen where the fine post-road\nnow runs between the rocks beside the roaring Lech. Nothing daunted,\nthe saint sprang across to the opposite rock whither his adversaries,\nwho had no guardian angels' wings to 'bear them up', durst not\npursue him; it is a curious fact for the comparative mythologist\nthat the same pass bears also the name of Jusulte (Saltus Julii)\nand the tradition that Julius C\u00e6sar performed a similar feat here on\nhorseback. Near it is a poor little inn, called 'the White House,'\nwhere local vintages may be tasted.\n\nReutte has two inns; the Post and Krone, and from it more excursions\nmay be made than I have space to chronicle. That to Breitenwang is\nan easy one; a house here is pointed out as having been built on the\nspot where stood a poor hut which gave shelter in his last moments\nto Lothair II. 'the Saxon' overtaken by death on his return journey\nfrom the war in Italy, 1137; what remained of the old materials\nhaving been conscientiously worked into the building, down to the\nmost insignificant spar; a tablet records the event. The church,\na Benedictine foundation of the twelfth century, was rebuilt in the\nseventeenth, and contains many specimens of what Tirolese artists\ncan do in sculpture, wood-carving, and painting. A quaint chapel in\nthe churchyard has a representation in stucco of the 'Dance of Death.'\n\nThe country between this and the Plansee is called the Achenthal,\nfortunately distinguished by local mispronounciation as the Archenthal\nfrom the better known (though not deservingly so) Achenthal, which\nwe shall visit later. The Ache or Arche affords several water-falls,\nthe most important of them, the Stuibfall, is nearly a hundred feet\nin height, and on a bright evening a beautiful 'iris' may be seen\nenthroned in its foam.\n\nAt the easternmost extremity of the Plansee, to be reached either by\npleasure boat or mountain path, near the little border custom-house,\nthe Kaiser-brunnen flows into the lake, so called because its cool\nwaters once afforded a refreshing drink to Ludwig of Brandenberg,\nwhen out hunting: a crucifix marks the spot. There is also a chapel\nerected at the end of the 17th century, in consequence of some local\nvow, containing a picture of the 'Vierzehn Nothhelfer;' and as the\nso-called 'Fourteen Helpers in Need' are a favourite devotion all over\nNorth-Tirol I may as well mention their legend here at our first time\nof meeting them. The story is that on the feast of the Invention of the\nCross, 1445, a shepherd-boy named Hermann, serving the Cistercian monks\nof Langheim (some thirty miles south of Mayence) was keeping sheep\non a farm belonging to them in Frankenthal not far from W\u00fcrtzburg,\nwhen he heard a child's voice crying to him out of the long grass; he\nturned round and saw a beautiful infant with two tapers burning before\nit, who disappeared as he approached. On the vigil of S. Peter in the\nfollowing year Hermann saw the same vision repeated, only this time the\nbeautiful infant was surrounded by a court of fourteen other children,\nwho told him they were the 'Vierzehn Nothelfer,' and that he was to\nbuild a chapel to them. The monks refused to believe Hermann's story,\nbut the popular mind connected it with a devotion which was already\nwidespread, and by the year 1448 the mysteriously ordered chapel\nwas raised, and speedily became a place of pilgrimage. This chapel\nhas been constantly maintained and enlarged and has now grown into a\nconsiderable church; and the devotion to the 'Fourteen Helpers in Need'\nspread over the surrounding country with the usual rapid spread of a\npopular devotion. [39] The chief remaining points of interest in the\nfurther journey to Innsbruck, taking it up where we diverged from it\nat Nassereit, are mentioned later in my excursions for Innsbruck.\n\nBefore closing my chapter on Vorarlberg I must put on record, as\na warning to those who may choose to thread its pleasant valleys,\na laughable incident which cut short my first attempt to penetrate\ninto Tirol by its means. Our line of route I have already named. [40]\nOur start was in the most genial of August weather; our party not\nonly harmonious, but humorously inclined; all our stages were full of\ninterest and pleasure, and their memory glances at me reproachfully\nas I pass them over in rigid obedience to the duty of adhering to my\nprogramme. But no, I must devote a word of gratitude to the friendly\nSwiss people, and their kindly hospitable manners on all occasions. The\npretty bathing establishments on the lakes, where the little girls\ngo in on their way to school, and swim about as elegantly as if the\nwater were their natural element; the wonderful roofs of Aarau;\nits late-flowering pomegranates; and the clear delicious water,\ntumbling along its narrow bed down the centre of all the streets,\nwhere we stop to taste of the crystal brook, using the hollow of our\nhands, pilgrim fashion, and the kind people more than once come out\nof their houses to offer us glasses and chairs!\n\nI must bestow, too, another line of record on the charming village\nof Rorschach, the little colony of Catholics in the midst of a\nProtestant canton. Its delicious situation on the Boden-see; our\nrow over the lake by moonlight, where we are nearly run down by one\nof the steamers perpetually crossing it in all directions, while our\nold boatman pours out and loses himself in the mazes of his legendary\nlore; the strange effect of interlacing moonbeams, interspersed by\ngolden rays from the sanct lamps with Turner-like effect, seen through\nthe open grated door of the church; the grotesque draped skeletons\nsupporting the roof of one of the chapels, Caryatid fashion and the\nrustic procession on the early morning of the Assumption.\n\nSo far all had gone passing well; my first misgiving arose when\nI saw the factotum of the Oberriet station eye our luggage, the\nprovision of four English winterers in Rome, and a look of embarrassed\nastonishment dilate his stolid German countenance. It was evident that\nwhen he engaged himself as ticket-clerk, porter, 'and everyting,'\nhe never contemplated such a pile of boxes being ever deposited at\nhis station. We left him wrapt in his earnest gaze, and walked on\nto see what help we could get in the village. It was a collection\nof a half-dozen cottages, picturesque in their utter uncivilization,\nclustered round an inn of some pretensions. The host had apparently\nheard of the depth of English purses, and was delighted to make his\npremi\u00e8res armes in testing their capacity. Of course there was 'no\narguing with the master of' the only horses to whose assistance we\nhad to look for carrying us beyond the mountains, which now somehow\nstruck us as much more plainly marked on the map than we had noticed\nbefore. His price had to be ours, and his statement of the distance,\nabout double the reality, had to be accepted also. His stud was soon\ndisplayed before us. Three rather tired greys were brought in from\nthe field, and made fast (or rather loose) with ropes to a waggon,\non which our formidable Gep\u00e4ck was piled, and took their start with\nfuneral solemnity. An hour later a parcel of boys had succeeded in\ncapturing a wild colt destined to assist his venerable parent in\ntransporting ourselves in a 'shay,' of the Gilpin type, and to which\nwe managed to hang on with some difficulty, the wild-looking driver\ngood-naturedly volunteering to run by the side.\n\nOff we started with the inevitable thunder of German whip-cracking\nand German imprecations on the cattle, sufficient for the first\ntwenty paces to astonish the colt into propriety. No sooner had we\nreached the village boundary, however, than he seemed to guess for the\nfirst time that he had been entrapped into bondage. With refreshing\njuvenile buoyancy he instantly determined to show us his indomitable\nspirit. Resisting all efforts of his companion in harness to proceed,\nhe suddenly made such desperate assault and battery with his hind\nlegs, that one or two of the ropes were quickly snapped, the Jehu\nsent sprawling in the ditch on one side, and the travelling bags on\nthe other; so that, but for the staid demeanour of the old mare,\nwe should probably in two minutes more have been 'nowhere.' Hans\nwas on his feet again in an instant, like the balanced mannikins of\na bull-fight, and to knot the ropes and make a fresh start required\nonly a minute more; but another and another exhibition of the colt's\npranks decided us to trust to our own powers of locomotion.\n\nA bare-footed, short-petticoated wench, who astonished us by proving\nthat her rough hands could earn her livelihood at delicate 'Swiss'\nembroidery, and still more by details of the small remuneration that\ncontented her, volunteered to pilot us through the woods where we\nhad quite lost our way; and finding our luggage van waiting on the\nbanks of the Rhine for the return of the ferry, we crossed with it\nand walked by its side for the rest of the distance.\n\nOur road lay right across the Ardetzen, a basin of pasture enclosed by\na magnificent circuit of mountains,--behind us the distant eminences\nof Appenzell, before us the great Rh\u00e6tian Alps, and at their base\na number of smiling villages each with its green spire scarcely\ndetaching from the verdant slopes behind. The undertaking, pleasant\nand bright at first, grew weary and anxious as the sun descended,\nand the mountains of Appenzell began to throw their long shadow over\nthe lowland we were traversing, and yet the end was not reached. At\nlast the strains of an organ burst upon our ears, lights from latticed\nwindows diapered our path, and a train of worshippers poured past us\nto join in the melodies of the Church, sufficiently large to argue that\nour stopping-place was attained. We cast about to find the Gasthof zur\nPost to which we were bound, but all in vain, there was no rest for us.\n\nHere indeed, Feldkirch fuit, but here it was no more. In the year 909,\nthe Counts of Montfort built themselves a castle on the neighbouring\nheight of Schattenburg, (so called because the higher eminences around\nshade it from the sun till late in the morning,) and lured away the\npeople from this pristine Feldkirch to settle themselves round the\nfoot of their fortress. Some of the original inhabitants still clung\nto the old place, and its old Church of St. Peter, that very church\nwhose earlier foundations, some say, were laid by monks from Britain,\nS. Columban and St. Gall, who, when the people were oppressed by their\nFrankish masters, came and lived among them, and by their preaching\nand their prayers rekindled the light of religion, working out at the\nsame time their political relief; the former subsequently made his way,\nshedding blessings as he went, on to Italy, where he died at the age\nof ninety, in 615; the latter founded, and ended his days at the age\nof ninety-five, in the famous monastery which has given his name to\nthe neighbouring Swiss Canton.\n\nThe descendants of this remnant have kept up the original settlement\nto this day with the name of Altenstadt, while the first built street\nof the present thriving town of Feldkirch still retains its appellation\nof the Neustadt.\n\nIt seemed a long stretch ere we again came upon an inhabited spot,\nbut this time there was no mistake. All around were the signs of a\nprosperous centre, the causeways correctly laid out, new buildings\nrising on every side, and--I am fain to add--the church dark and\nclosed; in place of the train of worshippers of unsophisticated\nAltenstadt, one solitary figure in mourning weeds was kneeling in\nthe moonlight at a desk such as we often see placed under a cross\nagainst the outer wall of churches in Germany.\n\nBefore five next morning I was awakened by the pealing organ and\nhearty voices of the Feldkirch peasants at Mass in the church just\nopposite my window. I dressed hastily, and descended to take my place\namong them. It was a village festival and Mass succeeded Mass at each\nof the gaily decorated altars, and before them assembled groups in\nquaint costumes from far and near. [41] As each half hour struck, a\nbell sounded, and a relic was brought round to the high altar rails,\nall the women in the church going up first, and then all the men,\nto venerate it.\n\nOur first care of the day was to engage our carriage for Innsbruck. We\nwere at the Post hotel, and had the best chance there; for besides its\nown conveyances, there were those of the post-office, which generally\nin Germany afford great convenience. Not one was there, however, that\nwould undertake our luggage over the mountain roads. The post-master\nand his men all declared that at every winding of the passes there\nwould be too great risk of overturning the vehicle. It was in vain\nwe argued that the same amount had often accompanied us over higher\nmountains in Italy; it was clear they were not prepared for it. There\nwas a service for heavy goods by which it could be sent; there was no\nother way, and they did not advise that. They could not ensure any due\ncare being taken of it, or that it should reach within three or four\nweeks. Four or five hours spent in weighing, measuring, arranging,\nand arguing, advanced our cause not a whit; there was no plan to be\nadopted but to return by Oberriet to Rorschach, cross lake Constance\nto Lindau, and make our way round by Augsburg, Munich, and Rosenheim!\n\nIt was with great reluctance we relinquished the cherished project. Our\nnow hated luggage deposited in a waggon, as the day before, we mounted\nour rather more presentable, and certainly better horsed vehicle,\nin no cheerful mood, for, besides the disappointment, there was the\nmortification which always attaches to a failed project and retraced\nsteps.\n\n'The Herrschaften are not in such bright spirits as the sun\nto-day!' exclaimed our driver, when, finally tired of cracking his\nwhip and shouting to his horses, he found we still sat silent and\ncrest-fallen. He wore the jauntiest costume to be found in Europe,\nafter that of his Hungarian confr\u00e8re, a short postilion jacket,\nbound and trimmed with yellow lace, a horn slung across his breast\nby a bright yellow cord, and a hat shining like looking-glass cocked\non one side of his head, while his face expressed everything that is\npleasant and jovial.\n\n'How can one be anything but out of spirits when one is crossed by\nsuch a stupid set as the people of your town? Why, there is no part\nof Europe in which they will even believe it possible!'\n\n'Well, you see they don't understand much, about here,' he replied,\nwith an air of superiority, for he was a travelled postilion, as he\ntook care to let us know. 'In Italy they manage better; they tie the\nluggage on behind, or underneath, where it is safe enough. Here they\nhave only one idea--to stick it on the top, and in that way a carriage\nmay be easily upset at a sharp turn. You cannot drive any new idea\ninto these fellows; it is like an echo between their own mountains,\nwhatever is once there, goes on and on and on.' I showed him the\nmap, and traced before him the difference in the length of the route\nwe should have taken and that we had now to pursue. I don't think\nhe had ever understood a map before, for he seemed vastly pleased\nat the compliment paid to his intelligence. 'Ah!' he exclaimed,\n'if we could always go as the crow flies, how quickly we should get\nto our journey's end; or if we had the Stase-Sattel, as they used to\nhave--wasn't that fine!'\n\n'The Stase-Sattel,' I replied, 'what is that?'\n\n'What! don't you know about the Stase-Sattel--at that place, Bludenz,\nthere,' and he pointed to it on the map, 'where you were telling me\nyou wanted to have gone, there used to live an old woman named Stase,\nand folk said she was a witch. She had a wonderful saddle, on to which\nshe used to set herself when she wanted anything, and it used to fly\nwith her ever so high, and quicker than a bird. One day the reapers\nwere in a field cooking their mess, and they had forgotten to bring\nany salt--and hupf! quick! before the pot had begun to boil she had\nflown off on her saddle to the salt-mines at Hall, beyond Innsbruck,\nand back with salt enough to pickle an ox. Another time there was\na farmer who had been kind to her, whose crops were failing for the\ndrought. She no sooner heard of his distress than up she flew in her\nsaddle and swept all the clouds together with her broom till there\nwas enough to make a good rainfall. Another time, a boy who had been\nsent with a message by his master to the next village had wasted all\nthe day in playing and drinking with her; towards dusk he bethought\nhimself that the gates would be shut and the dogs let loose, so that\nit was a chance if he reached the house alive. But she told him not\nto mind, and taking him up on her saddle, she carried him up through\nthe air and set him down at home before the sun was an inch lower.'\n\n'And what became of her?' I inquired.\n\n'Became of her! why, she went the way of all such folk. They go on\nfor a time, but God's hand overtakes them at the last. One day she\nwas on one of her wild errands, and it was a Fest-tag to boot. Her\ncourse took her exactly over a church spire, and just as she passed,\nthe Wandlung bell [42] tolled. The sacred sound tormented her so that\nshe lost her seat and fell headlong to the ground. When they came out\nof church they found her lying a shapeless mass upon the stone step\nof the churchyard cross. Her enchanted saddle was long kept in the\nCastle of Landeck--maybe it is there yet; and even now when we want\nto tell one to go quickly on an errand, we say, \"Fly on the saddle\nof Dame Stase.\"'\n\n'You have had many such folk about here,' I observed seriously,\nwith the view of drawing him out.\n\n'Well, yes, they tell many such tales,' he answered; 'and if they're\nnot true, they at least serve to keep alive the faith that God is\nover us all, and that the evil one has no more power than just\nwhat He allows. There's another story they tell, just showing\nthat,' he continued. 'Many years ago there was a peasant (and he\nlived near Bludenz too) who had a great desire to have a fine large\nfarm-house. He worked hard, and put his savings by prudently; but it\nwouldn't do, he never could get enough. One day, in an evil hour, he\nlet his great desire get the better of him, and he called the devil\nin dreiteufelsnamen [43] to his assistance. It was not, you see,\na deliberate wickedness--it was all in a moment, like. But the devil\ncame, and didn't give him time to reflect. \"I know what you want,\" he\nsaid; \"you shall have your house and your barns and your hen-house,\nand all complete, this very night, without costing you a penny;\nbut when you have enjoyed it long enough, your old worn-out carcass\nshall belong to me.\" The good peasant hesitated; and the devil,\nfinding it necessary to add another bait, ran on: \"And what is more,\nI'll go so far as to say that if every stone is not complete by the\nfirst cock-crow, I'll strike out even this condition, and you shall\nhave it out and out.\" The peasant was dazzled with the prospect,\nand could not bring himself all at once to refuse the accomplishment\nof his darling hope. The devil shook him by the hand as a way of\nclenching the bargain, and disappeared.\n\n'The peasant went home more alarmed than rejoiced, and full of fear\nabove all that his wife should inquire the meaning of all the hammering\nand blustering and running hither and thither which was to be heard\ngoing on in the homestead, for she was a pious God-fearing woman.\n\n'He remained dumb to all her inquiries, hour after hour through the\nnight; but at last, towards morning, his courage failed him, and he\ntold her all. She, like a good wife, gave back no word of reproach,\nbut cast about to find a remedy. First she considered that he had done\nthe thing thoughtlessly and rashly, and then she ascertained that at\nlast he had given no actual consent. Finally, deciding matters were\nnot as bad as might be, she got up, and bid him leave the issue to her.\n\n'First she knelt down and commended herself and her undertaking to\nGod and His holy saints; then in the small hours, when the devil's\nwork was nearly finished, she took her lamp and spread out the wick\nso that it should give its greatest glare, and poured fresh oil upon\nit, and went out with a basket of grain to feed the hens. The cock,\nseeing the bright light and the good wife with her basket of food,\nnever doubted but that it was morning, and springing up, he flapped\nhis wings, and crowed with all his might. At that very moment the\ndevil himself was coming by with the last roof-stone. [44] At the\nsound of the premature cock-crow he was so much astonished that he\ndidn't know which way to turn, and sank into the ground bearing the\nstone still in his hand.\n\n'The house belonged to the peasant by every right, but no stone could\never be made to stay on the vacant space. This inconvenience was\nthe penance he had to endure for the desperate game he had played,\nand he took it cheerfully, and when the rain came in he used to kiss\nhis good wife in gratitude for the more terrible chastisement from\nwhich she had saved him.'\n\nThe jaunty postilion whipped the horses on as he thus brought his story\nto a close, or rather cracked his whip in the air till the mountains\nresounded with it, for he had slackened speed while telling his tale,\nand the day was wearing on.\n\n'We must take care and not be late for the train,' he observed. 'The\nHerrschaften have had enough of the inn of Oberriet, and don't want\nto have to spend a night there, and we have no Vorarlberger-geist to\nspeed us now-a-days.'\n\n'Who was he?' I inquired eagerly.\n\n'I suppose you know that all this country round about here is called\nthe Vorarlberg, and in olden time there was a spirit that used to\nwander about helping travellers all along its roads. When they were\nbenighted, it used to go before them with a light; when they were in\ndifficulties, it used to procure them aid; if one lost his way, it\nused to direct him aright; till one day a poor priest came by who had\nbeen to administer a distant parishioner. His way had lain now over\nbog, now over torrent-beds. In the roughness of the way the priest's\nhorse had cast a shoe. A long stretch of road lay yet before him,\nbut no forge was near. Suddenly the Vorarlberger-geist came out of\na cleft in the rock, silently set to work and shod the horse, and\npassed on its way as usual with a sigh.\n\n'\"Vergeltsgott!\" [45] cried the priest after it.\n\n'\"God be praised!\" exclaimed the spirit. \"Now am I at last set\nfree. These hundred years have I served mankind thus, and till now\nno man has performed this act of gratitude, the condition of my\nrelease.\" And since this time it has never been seen again.'\n\nWe had now once more reached the banks of the Rhine. The driver of\nthe luggage van held the ferry in expectation of us, and with its\nteam it was already stowed on board. Our horses were next embarked,\nand then ourselves, as we sat, perched on the carriage. A couple\nof rough donkeys, a patriarchal goat, and half-a-dozen wild-looking\nhalf-clothed peasants, made up a freight which seemed to tax the powers\nof the crazy barge to the utmost; and as the three brawny ferrymen\npulled it dexterously along the guide rope, the waters of the here\nbroad and rapid river rose some inches through the chinks. All went\nwell, however, and in another half-hour we were again astonishing\nthe factotum of the Oberriet station with a vision of the 'Gep\u00e4ck'\nwhich had puzzled him so immensely the day before.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nNORTH-TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL (RIGHT-INN BANK).\n\nKUFSTEIN TO ROTTENBURG.\n\n\n                    ... 'Peasant of the Alps,\n                    Thy humble virtues, hospitable home,\n                    And spirit patient, pious, proud, and free;\n                    Thy self-respect, grafted on innocent thoughts;\n                    Thy days of health, thy nights of sleep, thy toil\n                    By danger dignified, yet guiltless; hopes\n                    Of cheerful old age, and then a quiet grave\n                    With cross and garland over its green turf,\n                    And thy grandchildren's love for epitaph,\n                    This do I see!...'\n\n                                                        Byron (Manfred).\n\n\nWhen, after our forced d\u00e9tour, we next penetrated into Tirol, it\nwas by the way of Kufstein. Ruffled as we had been in the meantime\nby Bavarian 'Rohheit,' we were glad to find ourselves again in the\nhands of the gentle Tirolese.\n\nKufstein, however, is not gentle in appearance. Its vast fortress\nseems to shed a stifling gloom over the whole place; it looks so\nhard and selfish and tyrannical, that you long to get away from its\ninfluence. Noble hearts from honest Hungary have pined away within its\ncold strong grasp; and many a time, as my sketch-book has been turned\nover by Magyar friends, the page which depicted its outline--for it\nwears a grand and gallant form, such as the pencil cannot resist--has\nraised a deep sigh over the 'trauriges Andenken' it served to call\nup. [46]\n\nWhen Margaretha Maultasch ceded the country she found herself unable\nto govern, to Austria at the earnest request of her people, in 1363,\nit was stipulated that Kufstein, Kitzb\u00fchel, and Rattenberg, which had\nbeen added to it by her marriage with Louis of Bradenburg, should\nrevert to Bavaria. These three dependencies were recovered by the\nEmperor Maximilian in 1504, the two latter accepting his allegiance\ngladly, the former holding out stoutly against him. The story of\nthe reduction of this stronghold is almost a stain on his otherwise\nprudent and prosperous reign.\n\nPienzenau, its commander, who was in the Bavarian interest, had\nparticularly excited his ire by setting his men to sweep away with\nbrooms the traces of the small damage which had been effected by\nhis cannon, placed at too great a distance to do more than graze the\nmassive walls. Philip von Recenau, Regent of Innsbruck, meantime cast\ntwo enormous field-pieces, which received the names of Weckauf and\nPurlepaus. These entirely turned the tide of affairs. Chronicles of\nthe time do not mention their calibre, but declare that their missiles\nnot only pierced the 'fourteen feet-thick wall' through and through,\nbut entered a foot and a half into the living rock. Pienzenau's\nheart misgave him when he saw the work of these destructive engines,\nand hastened to send in his submission to the Emperor; but it was\ntoo late. 'So he is in a hurry to throw away his brooms at last,\nis he?' cried Maximilian. 'But he should have done it before. He has\nallowed the wall of this noble castle to be so disgracefully shattered,\nthat he can make no amends but by giving up his own carcass to the\nsame fate.'\n\nNo entreaty could move the Emperor from carrying out this chastisement,\nand some five-and-twenty of the principal men who had held out against\nhim were condemned to be beheaded on the spot. When eleven had fallen\nbefore the headsman's sword, Erich, Duke of Brunswick, sickening at\nthe scene of blood, pleaded so earnestly with the Emperor, that he\nobtained the pardon of the rest. The eleven were buried by the pious\ncountry-people in a common grave; and who will may yet tread the ground\nwhere their remains rest in a little chapel built over their grave\nat Ainliff (dialectic for eleven), on the other side of the river Inn.\n\nIts situation near the frontier has made it the scene of other sieges,\nof which none is more endeared to Tiroleans than that of 1809, when\nthe patriot Speckbacher distinguished himself by many a dauntless deed.\n\nIf Kufstein has long had a truce to these stirring memories, many\na fantastic story has floated out of it concerning the prisoners\nharboured there, even of late years. The Hungarian patriot brigand,\nRocsla Sandor (Andrew Roshla), who won by his unscrupulous daring quite\na legendary place in popular story, was long confined here. He was\nfinally tried and condemned (but I think not executed) at Szeghedin,\nin July 1870; 454 other persons were included in the same trial,\nof whom 234 under homicidal charges; 100 homicides were laid to his\ncharge alone, but there is no doubt that his services to the popular\ncause, at the same time that they condoned some of his excesses, in\nthe popular judgment may have disposed the authorities to exaggerate\nthe charges against him. The whole story is fantastic, and even in\nKufstein, where he was almost an alien, there was admiration and\nsympathy underlying the shudder with which the people spoke of him. A\nmuch more interesting and no less romantic narrative, was told me of a\nHungarian political prisoner, who formed the solitary instance of an\nescape from the stony walls of the fortress. His lady-love--and she\nwas a lady by birth--with the heroic instincts of a Hungarian maiden,\nhaving with infinite difficulty made out where he was confined,\nfollowed him hither in peasant disguise, and with invincible\nperseverance succeeded, first in engaging herself as servant to the\ngovernor and then in conveying every day to her lover, in his soup,\na hank of hemp. With this he twisted a rope and got safely away;\nand this occurred not more than six or seven years ago.\n\nSt. Louis's day fell while we were at Kufstein--the name-day of the\nKing of Bavaria; and being the border town, the polite Tiroleans\nmake a complimentary f\u00eate of it. There was a grand musical Mass,\nwhich the officers from the Bavarian frontier attended, and a modest\nbanquet was offered them after it. The peasants put on their holiday\nattire--passable enough as far as the men are concerned, but consisting\nmainly on the women's behalf in an ugly black cloth square-waisted\ndress, and a black felt broad-brimmed hat, with large gold tassels\nlying on the brim. After Mass the Bavarian national hymn was sung to\nthe familiar strains of our own.\n\nAll seemed gay and glad without. I returned to the primitive rambling\ninn; everyone was gone to take his or her part in the Kufstein idea\nof a holiday. There were three entrances, and three staircases;\nI took a wrong one, and in trying to retrace my steps passed a room\nthrough the half-open door of which I heard a sound of moaning, which\narrested me. I could not find it in my heart to pass on. I pushed\nthe door gently aside, and discovered a grey-haired old man lying\ncomfortlessly on the bed in a state of torpor. I laid him back in a\nposture in which he could breathe more freely, opened his collar and\ngave him air, and with the aid of one or two simple means soon brought\nhim back to consciousness. The room was barely furnished; his luggage\nwas a small bundle tied in a handkerchief, his clothes betokened that\nhe belonged to the respectable of the lower class. I was too desirous\nto converse with a genuine Tirolean peasant to refuse his invitation\nto sit down by his side. I had soon learnt his tale, which he seemed\nnot a little pleased to find had an interest for a foreigner.\n\nHis lot had been marked by severe trials. In early youth he had been\ncalled to lose his parents; in later life, the dear wife who had\nfor a season clothed his home again with brightness and hope. In old\nage he had had a heavier trial still. His only child, the son whom\nhe had reared in the hope that he would have been the staff of his\ndeclining years, whom he had brought up in innocence in childhood,\nand shielded from knowledge of evil in early youth, had gone from him,\nand he knew not where to find him. The boy had always had a fancy for\na roving adventurous life, but it had been his hope to have kept him\nalways near him, free from the contamination of great cities.\n\nI asked if it was not the custom in these parts for young men to go\nabroad and seek employment where it was more highly paid, and come\nback and settle on their earnings. But he shook his head proudly. It\nwas so in Switzerland, it was so in some few valleys of Tirol, and the\npoor Engadeiners supplied all the cities of Europe with confectioners;\nbut his son had no need to tramp the world in search of fortune. But\nwhat had made him most anxious was, that the night before his son\nleft some wild young men had passed through the village. They were\nbold and uproarious, and his fear was that his boy might have been\ntempted to join them. He did not know exactly what their game was,\nbut he had an idea they were gathering recruits to join the lawless\nGaribaldian bands in their attempts upon the Roman frontier. With\ntheir designs he was confident his son had no sympathy. If he had\nstopped to consider them, he would have shrunk from them with horror;\nand it was his dread that his spirited love of danger and excitement\nhad carried him into a vortex from which he might by-and-by be longing\nto extricate himself in vain. It was to pray that the lad might be\nguided aright that he made this pilgrimage up the Thierberg--no easy\njourney for one of his years. He had come across hill and valley from\na village of which I forget the name, but situated near Sterzing.\n\n'But Sterzing itself is a place of pilgrimage,' I said, glad to turn to\naccount my scanty knowledge of the sacred places of the country. 'Why\ndid you come all this way?'\n\n'Indeed is Sterzing,' he replied, 'a place of benedictions. It is the\nspot where Sterzing, our first hermit, lived, and left his name to our\ntown. But this is the spot for those who need penance. There, in that\nplace,' and as I followed the direction of his hand I saw through the\nlow lattice window the lofty elevation of the Thierberg like a phantom\ntower, enveloped in mist, standing out against the clear sky beyond,\nand wondered how his palsied limbs had carried him up the steep. 'In\nthat place, in olden time, lived a true penitent. Once it was a lordly\ncastle, and he to whom it belonged was a rich and honoured knight;\nbut on one occasion he forgot his knightly honour, and with false\nvows led astray an unthinking maiden of the village. Soon, however,\nthe conviction of his sin came back to him clear as the sun's light,\nand without an hour's hesitation he put it from him. To the girl he\nmade the best amends he could by first leading her to repentance,\nthen procuring her admission to a neighbouring convent. But for\nhim, from that day the lordly castle became as a hermit's cell,\nthe sound of mirth and revelry and of friendly voices was hushed\nfor ever. The memory of his own name even he would have wiped out,\nand would have men call him only, as they do to the present day,\n'der B\u00fcsser'--the Penitent. And so many has his example brought to\nthis shrine in a spirit of compunction, that the Church has endowed\nit with the indulgence of the Portiuncula.'\n\nWhat a picture of Tirolese faith it was! Instead of setting in motion\nthe detective police, or the telegraph-wire, or the second column\nof the 'Times,' this old man had come many miles in the opposite\ndirection from that his child was supposed to have taken, to bring\nhis burden and lay it before a shrine he believed to have been made\ndear to heaven by tears of penance in another age, and there commend\nhis petition to God that He might bring it to pass, accepting the\nsuffering as a merited chastisement in a spirit of sincere penitence!\n\nHe was feeling better, and I rose to go. He pressed my hand in\nacknowledgment of my sympathy, and I assured him of it. It was not a\ncase for more substantial charity; I had gathered from his recital\nthat he had no lack of worldly means. I only strove at parting to\nkindle a ray of hope. I said after all it might not be so bad as he\nimagined; his boy had been well brought up, and might perhaps be\ntrusted to keep out of the way of evil. It was thoughtless of him\nnot to seek his father's blessing and consent to his choice of an\nadventurous career, but it might be he had feared his opposition,\nand that he had no unworthy reason for concealing his plans. There\nwas at least as much reason to hope as to despond, and he must look\nforward to his coming back, true to the instincts of his mountain home,\nwiser than he had set out.\n\nHis pale blue eye glistened, and he gasped like one who had seen a\nvision. 'Ay! just so! Just so it appeared to me when I was on the\nThierberg this morning! And now, in case my weak old heart did not\nsee it clearly enough, God, in His mercy, has sent you to expound\nthe thing more plainly to me. Now I know that I am heard.'\n\nPoor old man! I shuddered lest the hope so strongly entertained\nshould prove delusive in the end. I may never know the result; but\nI felt that at all events as he was one who took all things at God's\nhands, nothing could, in one sense, come amiss; and for the present,\nat least, I saw that he went down to his house comforted.\n\nI strolled along the street, and, possessed with the type of the\nTirolean peasant, as I received it from this old man, I conceived a\nfeeling of deeper curiosity for all whom I met by the way. I thought\nof them as of men for whom an unseen world is a reality; who estimate\nprayer and sacraments and the intercession of saints above steam-power\nand electricity. At home one meets with one such now and then, but to\nbe transported into a whole country of them was like waking up from\na long sleep to find oneself in the age of St. Francis and St. Dominic.\n\nWhatever faults the Tirolese may have to answer for, they will not\narise from religion being put out of sight. No village but has its\nhillside path marked with 'the Way of the Cross;' no bridge but carries\nthe statue of S. John Nepomucene, the martyr of the Confessional; no\nfountain but bears the image of the local saint, a model of virtue\nto the place; no lone path unmarked by its way-side chapel, or its\ncrucifix shielded from the weather by a rustic roof; no house but has\nits outer walls covered with memories of holy things; no room without\nits sacred prints and its holywater stoup. The churches are full of\nlittle rude pictures, recording scenes in which all the pleasanter\nevents of life are gratefully ascribed to answers to prayer, while many\nwho cannot afford this more elaborate tribute hang up a tablet with the\nwords Hat geholfen ('He has helped me'), or more simply still, 'aus\nDankbarkeit.' Longfellow has written something very true and pretty,\nwhich I do not remember well enough to quote; but most will call to\nmind the verses about leaving landmarks, which a weary brother seeing,\nmay take heart again; and it is incalculable how these good people\nmay stir up one another to hope and endurance by such testimonies\nof their trust in a Providence. Sometimes, again, the little tablets\nrecord that such an one has undertaken a journey. 'N. N. reiset nach\nN., pray for him;' and we, who have come so far so easily, smile at\nthe short distance which is thought worthy of this importance. The\nGott segne meine Reise--'May God bless my journey'--seems to come as\nnaturally to them, however, as 'grace before meat' with us. But most\nof all, their care is displayed in regard to the dear departed. The\nspot where an accident deprived one of his life is sacred to all. 'The\nhonourable peasant N. N. was run over here by a heavy waggon;'--'Here\nwas N. N. carried away by the waters of the stream;' with the unfailing\nadjunct, 'may he rest in peace, let us pray for him;' or sometimes,\nas if there were no need to address the recommendation to his own\nneighbours, 'Stranger! pray for him.'\n\n\n\nThe straggling village on the opposite bank of the Inn is called\nZell, though appearing part of Kufstein. It affords the best points\nfor viewing the gloomy old fortress, and itself possesses one or two\nchapels of some interest. At Kiefersfelden, at a short distance on\nthe Bavarian border, is the so-called Ottokapelle, a Gothic chapel\nmarking the spot where Prince Otho quitted his native soil when called\nto take possession of the throne of Greece.\n\nKundl, about an hour from Kufstein, the third station, by rail, [47]\nthough wretchedly provided with accommodation, is the place to stop at\nto visit the curious and isolated church of S. Leonhard auf der Wiese\n(in the meadow), and it is well worthy of a visit. In the year 1004\na life-sized stone image of St. Leonard was brought by the stream\nto this spot; 'floating,' the wonder-loving people said, but it may\nwell be believed that some rapid swollen torrent had carried the image\naway in its wild course from some chapel on a higher level. The people\nnot knowing whence it came, reckoned its advent a miracle, and set it\nup in the highway, that all who passed might know of it. It was not\nlong before a no less illustrious wayfarer than the Emperor Henry\nII. came that way, and seeing the uncovered image set up on high,\nstopped to inquire its history. When he had heard it, he vowed that\nif his arms were prosperous in Italy he would on his return build\nthe saint an honourable church. Success indeed attended him in the\ncampaign, and he was crowned Emperor at Pavia, but St. Leonard and his\nvow were alike forgotten. The year 1012 brought him again into Italy\nthrough Tirol, and passing the spot where he had registered his vow\nbefore, his horse, foaming and stamping, refused to pass the image\nor carry him further. The circumstance reminded him of his promise,\nand he at once set to work to carry it out worthily. The church was\ncompleted within a few years, but an unhappy accident signalized its\ncompletion. A young man who had undertaken to place the ornament on the\nsummit was seized with vertigo in the moment of completing his exploit,\nand losing his balance was dashed lifeless on to the ground below. [48]\nHis remains were gathered up tenderly by the neighbours, and his\nskull laid as an offering at the foot of the crucifix on the high\naltar, where it yet remains. An inscription to the following effect\nis preserved in the church: 'A.D. 1019 Pr\u00e6sens ecclesia Sti. Leonhardi\na sancto Henrico Imperatore exstructa, et anno 1020 a summo Pontifice\nBenedicto VIII. consecrata est,' though there would not seem to be any\nother record of the Pope having made the journey. S. Kunigunda, consort\nof Henry II., bore a great affection to the spot, and often visited it.\n\nThe image of St. Leonard now in the church bears the date of 1481,\nand there is no record of the time when it was substituted for the\noriginal. [49] The interior has suffered a great deal during the\nwhitewash period; but some of the original carvings are remarkable,\nparticularly the grotesque creatures displayed on the main columns. On\none a doubled-bodied lion is trampling on two dragons; on another a\nyouth stands holding the prophetic roll of the book of revelation,\nand a hideous symbolical figure, with something of the form of a bear,\ncowers before him, showing a certain resemblance to the sculptures\nin the chapel-porch of Castle Tirol. Round the high altar are ten\npilasters, each setting forth the figure of a saint, and all various. A\ngreat deal of the old work was destroyed, however, when it was rebuilt,\nabout the year 1500.\n\nBetween St. Leonhard and Ratfield runs the Aufl\u00e4ngerbr\u00fcndl--so called\nfrom the Angerberg, celebrated as itself a very charming excursion\nfrom Kundl--a watercourse directed by the side of the road through\nthe charity of the townspeople of Rattenberg and Ratfeld, in the year\n1424, with the view that no wayfarer might faint by the way for want\nof a drink of pure and refreshing water.\n\nRattenberg is a little town of some importance on account of the copper\nworks in the neighbourhood, but not much frequented by visitors,\nthough it has three passable inns. It is curious that the castle\nof Rottenburg near Rothholz, though so like in name, has a different\nderivation, the latter arising from the red earth of the neighbourhood,\nand the former from an old word Rat, meaning 'richness,' and in old\ndocuments it is found spelt Rat in berc (riches in the mountain). This\nwas the favoured locality of the holy Nothburga's earthly career.\n\nSt. Nothburga is eminently characteristic of her country. She was\nthe poorest of village maidens, and yet attained the highest and most\nlasting veneration of her people by the simple force of virtue. She\nwas born in 1280. The child of pious parents, she drank in their\ngood instructions with an instinctive aptitude. Their lessons of\npure and Christian manners seemed as it were to crystallize and\nmodel themselves in her conduct; she grew up a living picture of\nholy counsels. She was scarcely seventeen when the lord of Castle\nRottenburg, hearing of her perfect life, desired to have her in his\nhousehold. Her parents, knowing she could have no better protectors,\nwhen they were no more, than their honoured knight Henry of Rottenburg\nand his good wife Gutta, gladly accepted the proposal. [50] In her new\nsphere Nothburga showed how well grounded was her virtue. It readily\nadapted itself to her altered position, and she became as faithful\nand devoted to her employers as she had been loving and obedient\nto her parents. In time she was advanced to the highest position\nof trust in the castle, and the greatest delight of her heart was\nfulfilled when she was nominated to superintend the distribution of\nalms to the poor. Her prudence enabled her to distinguish between\nreal and feigned need, and while she delighted in ministering to the\none, she was firm in resisting the appeals of the other. Her general\nuprightness won for her the respect of all with whom she had to do,\nand she was the general favourite of all classes.\n\nSuch bright days could not last; the enemy of God's saints looked on\nwith envy, and desired to 'sift' her 'as wheat.' The knight's son,\nHenry VI., in progress of time brought home his bride, Ottilia by\nname; and according to local custom, the older Knight Henry ceded\nhis authority to the young castellan, living himself in comparative\nretirement. Ottilia was young and thoughtless, and haughty to boot,\nand it was not without a feeling of bitter resentment that she saw\nboth her husband and his parents looked to Nothburga to supply her\ndeficiencies in the management of the household. She resolved to\nget rid of the faithful servant, and her fury against her was only\nincreased in proportion as she realized that the perfect uprightness\nof her conduct rendered it impossible to discover any pretext for\ndismissing her.\n\nFor Nothburga it was a life of daily silent martyrdom. There were a\nthousand mortifications in her mistress's power to inflict, and she\nlost no opportunity of annoying her, but never once succeeded in\nruffling the gentleness of her spirit. 'My life has been too easy\nhitherto,' she would say in the stillness of her own heart; 'now I\nam honoured at last by admission to the way of the Cross.' There\nwas no brightness, no praise, no subsequent hope of distinction,\nto be derived from her patience; they were stabs in the dark, seen\nby no human eye, which made her bleed day by day. Yet she would not\ncomplain, much less seek to change her service. She said it would have\nbeen ungrateful to her first benefactors and employers to leave them,\nso long as she could spend herself for them, and ungrateful to God\nto shirk the trial He had lovingly sent her.\n\nA crucial test of her fidelity, however, was at hand. The day came\nwhen Knight Henry and Gutta his wife were called to their long rest,\nand with them the chief protection of Nothburga departed. She was\nnow almost at Ottilia's mercy. One of the first consequences of this\nchange was that she was deprived of her favourite office of relieving\nthe poor; and not only their customary alms were stopped, but their\ndole of food also; and as a final provocation, she was required to\nfeed the pigs with the broken meat which she had been accustomed to\nhusband for the necessitous.\n\nThe good girl's heart bled to see the needy whom she had been wont\nto relieve turned hungry away. The only means that occurred to her\nof remedying the evil in some measure, was to deny herself her own\nfood and distribute it among them. Restricting her own diet to bread\nand water, she saved a little basketful, which she would take down\nevery evening when work was done to the foot of the Leuchtenburg,\nwhere the poorest of the castle dependents lived; and the blessing\nwhich multiplied the loaves in the wilderness made her scanty savings\nsuffice to feed all who had come to beg of her.\n\nThat Nothburga contrived to feed the poor of a whole district,\nin spite of her orders to the contrary, of course became in time a\nground of complaint for Ottilia. She had now a plausible reason for\nstirring up the Knight Henry against her. He had always defended her,\nout of regard for his parents' memory; but coming one evening past\nthe Leuchtenburg, at Ottilia's instigation, he met Nothburga with\nher little burden, and asked her what she carried.\n\nHere the adversary of the saints had prepared for her a great trial,\nsays the legend. She, in her innocence, told fairly and honestly\nthe import of her errand; but to the Knight's eyes, who had meantime\nuntied her apron, the contents appeared, the legend says, to be wood\nshavings; and further, putting the wine-flask to his lips, it seemed\nto him to contain soap-suds. To her charitable intention he had made\nno objection, but at this, which appeared to him a studied affront,\nhe was furious. He would listen to no explanation, but, returning\nat once to the castle, he gave Ottilia free and full leave to deal\nwith the offending handmaiden as she pleased. Ottilia readily put the\npermission into effect by directing the castle guard to forbid her,\non her return, ever again to pass the threshold of the castle.\n\nThis blow told with terrible effect on the poor girl. During her\nservice at the castle both her parents had died; she had now no home\nto resort to. Putting her trust in God, however, she retraced her\nsteps alone through the darkness, and found shelter in a cottage of\none of her clients. Her path was watched by the angels, who marked\nthe track with fair seeds; and even to this day the hill-side which\nher feet so often pressed on her holy errand is said to be marked\nwith a peculiar growth of flowers.\n\nThe next day she applied to a peasant of Eben to engage her as a\nfield labourer. The peasant was exceedingly doubtful of her capacity\nfor the work after the comparatively delicate nature of her previous\nmode of life. Her hardy perseverance and determination, aided by the\ngrace of God, on which she implicitly relied, overcame all obstacles,\nand old Valentine soon found that her presence brought a blessing\non all his substance. She had been with him about a year, when one\nday, being Saturday, he was very anxious to gather in the remainder\nof his harvest before an apprehended storm, and desired Nothburga,\nwith the other reapers, to continue their labours after the hour of\neve, when the holy rest was reckoned to have commenced. Nothburga,\nusually so obedient to his wishes, had the courage to refuse to\ninfringe the commandment of religion; and to manifest that the will\nof God was on her side, showed him her sickle resting from labour,\nsuspended in the air. Valentine, convinced by the prodigy, yielded\nto her representations, and her piety was more and more honoured by\nall the neighbours.\n\nSoon after this, Ottilia, in the midst of her health and strength,\nwas stricken with a dangerous illness. In presence of the fear of\ndeath she remembered her harsh treatment of Nothburga, and sent\nfor her to make amends for the past. As the good girl reached her\nbed-side she was just under the influence of a frightful attack of\nfevered remorse. Her long golden hair waved in untended masses over\nthe pillow, like the flames of purgatory; her eyes glared like wheels\nof fire. Unconscious of what was passing round her, and filled only\nwith her distempered fancies, she cried piteously: 'Drive away those\nhorrid beasts! don't let them come near me! And why do you let those\npale-faced creatures pursue me with their hollow glances? If I did\ndeny them food, I cannot help it now! Oh! keep those horrid swine\noff me! If I did give them the portion of the poor, it is no reason\nyou should let them defile me and trample on me!'\n\nNothburga was melted with compassion, and her glance of sympathy\nseemed to chase away the horrid vision. Come to herself, and calm\nagain, Otillia recognized her and begged her pardon, which we may well\nbelieve she readily accorded; and shortly after, having reconciled\nherself to God with true compunction, she fell asleep in peace. [51]\n\nHenry proposed to Nothburga to come and resume her old post in the\ncastle, and moreover to add to it that of superintending the nurture\nof his only boy. Nothburga gladly accepted his offer, but, in her\nstrict integrity, insisted on accepting no remission from the three\nyears' service under which she had bound herself to Valentine. This\nconcluded, she was received back with open arms at Castle Rottenburg,\nwhither she took with her one of Valentine's daughters to instruct\nin household duties, that she might be meet to succeed her when her\ntime should come.\n\nDays of peace on earth are not for the saints. Her fight was fought\nout. The privations she had undergone in sparing her food for the poor,\nand her subsequent exposure in the field, brought on an illness, under\nwhich she shortly after sank. In conformity with her express desire,\nher body was laid on a bier, to which two young oxen were yoked,\nand left to follow their own course. The willing beasts tramped\nstraight away over hill and dale and water-course till they came to\nthe village of Eben, then consisting of but a couple of huts of the\npoor tillers of the soil, and Valentine's homestead; now, a thriving\nvillage, its two inns crowded every holiday with peasants, who make\ntheir excursions coincide with a visit of devotion to the peasant\nmaiden's shrine. A small field-chapel of St. Ruprecht was then the only\nplace of devotion, but here next morning the body of the holy maiden\nwas found carefully laid at the foot of the altar, and here it was\nreverently buried, and for centuries it has been honoured by all the\ncountry round. [52] In 1434 the Emperor Maximilian, and Christopher,\nPrince-Bishop of Brixen, built a church over the spot, of which\nthe ancient chapel served as the quire. In 1718 Gaspar Ignatius,\nCount of K\u00fcnigl, the then Prince-Bishop, had the remains exhumed,\nand carried them with pomp to the neighbouring town of Schwatz, where\nthey were left while the church was restored, and an open sarcophagus\nprepared for them to remain exposed for the veneration of the faithful,\nwhich was completed in 1738. In 1838 a centenary festival was observed\nwith great rejoicing, and on March 27, 1862, the cycle of Nothburga's\nhonour was completed in her solemn canonization at Rome.\n\nThe lords of Rottenburg had had possession of this territory, and had\nbeen the most powerful family of Tirol, ever since the eighth century;\none branch extending its sway over the valleys surrounding the Inn,\nand another branch commanding the country bordering the Etsch;\nLeuchtenburg and Fleims being the chief fortress-seats of these\nlatter. Their vast power greatly harassed the rulers of Tirol. In\nevery conflict between the native or Austrian princes and the Dukes of\nBavaria their influence would always turn the scale, and they often\nseem to have exercised it simply to show their power. Their family\npride grew so high, that it became a proverb among the people. It was\nobserved that just during the period of the holy Nothburga's sojourn\nin the castle the halo of her humble spirit seemed to exercise a charm\nover their ruling passion. That was no sooner brought to a close than\nit once more burst forth, and with intenser energy, and by the end\nof a century more so blinded them that they ventured on an attempt\nto seize the supreme power over the land. Friedrich mit der leeren\nTasche was not a prince to lose his rights without a worthy struggle;\nand then ensued one which was a noteworthy instance of the protection\nwhich royalty often afforded to the poor against the oppressions of a\nselfish aristocracy in the Middle Ages. Friedrich was the idol of the\npeople: in his youth his hardy temperament had made him the companion\nnot only of the mountain huntsman, but even of the mountain hewer of\nwood. Called to rule over the country, he always stood out manfully for\nthe liberties of the peasant and the burghers of the little struggling\ncommunities of Tirol. The lords and knights who found their power\nthereby restricted were glad to follow the standard of Henry VI.,\nCount of Rottenburg, in his rebellions. Forgetting all patriotism in\nhis struggle for power, Henry called to his aid the Duke of Bavaria,\nwho readily answered his appeal, reckoning that as soon as, by aiding\nHenry, he had driven Friedrich out, he would shortly after be able\nto secure the prize for himself.\n\nThe Bavarian troops, ever rough and lawless, now began laying waste the\ncountry in ruthless fashion. A Bavarian bishop, moved to compassion by\nthe sufferings of the poor people, though not of his own flock, pleaded\nso earnestly with the Duke, that he made peace with Friedrich, who was\nable to inflict due chastisement on Henry, for, powerful as he was,\nhe was no match for him as a leader. He fell prisoner into Friedrich's\nhands, who magnanimously gave him his liberty; but, according to the\nlaws of the time, his lands and fiefs were forfeit. Though the spirit\nof the high-minded noble was unbroken, the darling aim of his race\nwhich had devolved upon him for execution was defeated; his occupation\ngone, and his hopes quenched, he wandered about, the last of his race,\nnot caring even to establish himself in any of the fiefs which he held\nunder the Duke of Bavaria, and which consequently yet remained to him.\n\nThe history of Henry VI. of Rottenburg has a peculiarly gloomy and\nfantastic character. Ambitious to a fault, it was one cause of his\nill success that he exercised himself in the nobler pursuits of\nlife rather than in the career of arms. Letters of his which are\nstill preserved show that he owed the ascendancy he exercised over\nhis neighbours quite as much to his strength of character and grasp\nof mind as to his title and riches. No complaint is brought against\nhim in chronicles of the time of niggardliness towards the Church,\nor of want of uprightness or patience as a judge; he is spoken of as\nif he had learned to make himself respected as well as feared. But\nhe lived apart in a lofty sphere of his own, seldom mixing in social\nintercourse, while his refined tastes prevented his becoming an adept\nin the art of war. Friedrich, on the other hand, who was a hero in\nthe field by his bravery, was also the favourite of the people through\nhis frank and ready-spoken sympathy. Henry had perhaps, on the whole,\nthe finer--certainly the more cultivated--character, but Friedrich was\nmore the man of the time; and it was this doom of succumbing to one to\nwhom he felt himself superior which pressed most heavily on the last\nof the Rottenburgers. What became of him was never known; consequently\nmany wild stories became current to account for his end: that he never\nlaid his proud head low at the call of death, but yet wanders on round\nthe precincts where he once ruled; that his untamable ambition made\nhim a prey to the Power of Evil, who carried him off, body and soul,\nto the reward of the proud; that, shunning all sympathy and refusing\nall assistance, he died, untended and unknown, in a spot far from\nthe habitations of men. It would appear most probable, however, that\nhis death, like his life, was a contrast with the habits of his age:\nit is thought that, unable to bear his humiliation, he fell by his\nown hand within a twelvemonth of his defeat.\n\nThe deliverance from this powerful vassal, and the falling in of his\ndomains, tended greatly to strengthen and consolidate Friederich's\nrule over Tirol, and ultimately to render the government of the\ncountry more stable, and more beneficial to the people.\n\nNot long after Henry VI.'s disappearance a mysterious fire broke out\nin the old castle on two separate occasions, laying the greater part\nof it in ruins. But on each occasion it was noticed that the devouring\nelement, at the height of its fury, spared the little room which was\nhonoured as that in which the holy Nothburga had dwelt.\n\nA gentler story about this neighbourhood is of a boy tending sheep\nupon the neighbouring height, who found among some ruins a beautiful\nbird's-nest. What was his surprise, on examining his treasure, to\nfind it full of broken shells which the fledglings had cast off and\nleft behind them, but shells of a most singular kind. Still greater\nwas his astonishment when, on showing them at home, his parents\ntold him they were no shells, but pieces of precious ore. The affair\ncaused the peasants to search in the neighbourhood, and led to the\ndiscovery of one of those veins of metal the working of which brought\nso great prosperity to Tirol in the fifteenth century, and which are\nnot yet extinct. Their discovery was always by accident, and often\nby occasion of some curious incident, while the fact that such finds\nwere to be hit upon acted as a strong stimulant to the imagination\nof a romantic and wonder-loving people, giving belief to all sorts\nof fables to tell how the treasure was originally deposited, and how\nsubsequently it was preserved and guarded.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL (RIGHT INN-BANK).\n\nTHE ZILLERTHAL.\n\n\n    'I may venture to say that among the nations of Europe, and I have\n    more or less seen them all, I do not know any one in which there\n    is so large a measure of real piety as among the Tyroleans.... I\n    do not recollect to have once heard in the country an expression\n    savouring of scepticism.'--Inglis.\n\n\nThe Zillerthal claims to bear the palm over all the Valleys of Tirol\nfor natural beauty--a claim against which the other valleys may,\nI think, find something to say.\n\nThere is an organised service of carriages (the road is only good\nfor an einspanner--one-horse vehicle) into the Zillerthal, at both\nBrixlegg and Jenbach, taking between four and five hours to reach\nZell, an hour and a-half more to Mayrhofen. Its greatest ornaments are\nthe castles of Kropfsberg, Lichtwer, and Matzen; the Reiterkogel and\nthe Gerlos mountains, forming the present boundary against Salzburg;\nand the Ziller, with its rapid current which gave it its name (from\nceler), [53] its tributary streams might very well have received the\nsame appellation, for their celerity is often so impetuous that great\ndamage is done to the inhabitants of the neighbourhood.\n\nBefore starting for the Zillerthal I may mention two castles which may\nalso be seen from Jenbach, though like it they belong in strictness\nto the chapter on the Left Inn-bank. One is Thurnegg by name, which\nwas restored as a hunting-seat by Archduke Ferdinand; and at the\ninstance of his second wife, the pious Anna Katharina of Mantua, he\nadded a chapel, in order that his hunting-parties might always have\nthe opportunity of hearing Mass before setting out for their sport.\n\nAnother is Tratzberg, which derived its name from its defiant\ncharacter. It is situated within an easy walk of Jenbach. Permission\nto visit it is readily given, for it counts as a show-place. It may\nbe taken on the way to S. Georgenberg and Viecht, but it occupies too\nmuch time, and quite merits the separate excursion by its collections\nand its views. Frederick sold it in 1470 to Christian T\u00e4nzel,\na rich mining proprietor of the neighbourhood, who purchased with\nit the right to bear the title of Knight of Tratzberg. No expense\nwas spared in its decoration, and its paintings and marbles made it\nthe wonder of the country round. In 1573 it passed into the hands\nof the Fuggers, and at the present day belongs to Count Enzenberg,\nwho makes it an occasional residence. A story is told of it which is\nin striking contrast to that mentioned of Thurnegg. One of the knights\nof the castle in ancient time had a reputation for caring more for the\npleasures of the chase than for the observances of religion. Though he\ncould get up at an early hour enough at the call of his J\u00e4ger's horn,\nthe chapel bell vainly wooed him to Mass.\n\nIn vain morning by morning his guardian angel directed the sacred\nsound upon his ear; the knight only rolled himself up more warmly\nin the coverlet, and said, 'No need to stir yet, the dogs are not\nbrought round till five o'clock.'\n\n'Ding--dong--dang! Come--to--Mass! Ding--dong--dang!' sang the bells.\n\n'No, I can't,' yawned the knight, and covered his ear with the\nbed-clothes.\n\nThe bell was silent, and the knight knew that the pious people who\nhad to work hard all day for their living, and yet spared half an\nhour to ask God's blessing on their labours, were gone into the chapel.\n\nHe fancied he saw the venerable old chaplain bowing before the altar,\nand smiting his breast; he saw the faithful rise from their knees while\nthe glad tidings of the Gospel were announced, and they proclaimed\ntheir faith in them in the Creed; he heard them fall on their knees\nagain while the sacred elements were offered on the altar and the\nsolemn words of the consecration pronounced; he saw little Johann,\nthe farrier's son, bow his head reverently on the steps, and then sound\nthe threefold bell which told of the most solemn moment of the sacred\nmysteries; and the chapel bell took up the note, and announced the\njoyful news to those whom illness or necessity forced to remain away.\n\nThen hark! what was that? The rocks under the foundation of the castle\nrattled together, and all the stones of its massive walls chattered\nlike the teeth of an old woman stricken with fear. The three hundred\nand sixty-five windows of the edifice rattled in their casements,\nbut above them all sounded the piercing sound of the knight's cry\nof anguish. The affrighted people rushed into the knight's chamber;\nand what was their horror when, still sunk in the soft couch where\nhe was wont to take his ease, there he lay dead, while his throat\ndisplayed the print of three black and burning claws. The lesson they\ndrew was that the knight, having received from his guardian angel the\nimpulse to repair his sloth by at least then rising to pay the homage\nwhich the bell enjoined, had rejected even this last good counsel,\nthereby filling up the measure of his faults. For years after marks\nwere shown upon the wall as having been sprinkled by his blood!\n\nThe first little town that reckons in the Zillerthal is Strass,\na very unpretending place, and then Schlitters.\n\nAt Schlitters they have a story of a butcher who, going to Strass to\nbuy an ox, had scarcely crossed the Zill and got a little way from\nhome, than he saw lying by the way-side a heap of the finest wheat. Not\nliking to appropriate property which might have a legitimate owner,\nhe contented himself with putting a few grains in his pocket, and a\nfew into his sack, as a specimen. As he went by the way his pockets\nand his sack began to get heavier and heavier, till it seemed as if\nthe weight would burst them through. Astonished at the circumstance he\nput in his hand, and found them all full of shining gold. As soon as he\nhad recovered his composure, he set off at the top of his speed, and,\nheeding neither hill or dale, regained the spot where he had first\nseen the wheat. But it was no more to be seen. If he had had faith\nto commend himself to God on his first surprise, say the peasants,\nand made the holy sign of redemption, the whole treasure would have\nbeen his.\n\nThere is another tradition at Schlitters of a more peculiar\ncharacter. It is confidently affirmed that the village once boasted\ntwo churches, though but a very small one would supply the needs of\nthe inhabitants. Hormayr has sifted the matter to the bottom, and\nexplains it in this way. There lived in the neighbourhood two knights,\none belonging to the Rottenburger, and the other to the Freundsberger\nfamily. Now the latter had a position of greater importance, but the\nformer possessed a full share of family haughtiness, and would not\nyield precedence to any one. In order not to be placed on a footing\nof inferiority, or even of equality, with his rival, he built a second\nchurch, which he might attend without being brought into contact with\nhim. No expense was spared, and the church was solidly built enough;\nbut no blessing seemed to come on the edifice so built, no pains\ncould ever keep it in repair, and at last, after crumbling into ruin,\nevery stone of it disappeared.\n\nKropfsberg is a fine ruin, belonging to Count Enzenberg, seen a\nlittle above Strass, on a commanding height between the high road\nand the Inn. It is endeared to the memory of the Tiroleans by having\nbeen the spot where, on St. Michael's Day, 1416, their favourite\nFriedrich mit der leeren Tasche was reconciled with his brother Ernst\nder Eiserne, who, after the Council of Constance had pronounced its\nban on Frederick, had thought to possess himself of his dominions.\n\nThe largest town of the Zillerthal is F\u00fcgen, a short distance below\nSchlitters, and the people are so proud of it, that they have a saying\never in their mouths, 'There is but one Vienna and one F\u00fcgen in the\nworld!' It doubtless owes its comparative liveliness and prosperity\nto its ch\u00e2teau being kept up and often inhabited by its owners (the\nCountess of D\u00f6nhof and her family). This is also a great ornament to\nthe place, having been originally built in the fifteenth century by the\nlords of Fieger, though unhappily the period of its rebuilding (1733)\nwas not one very propitious to its style. The sculpture in the church\nby the native artist, Nissl, is much more meritorious. The church of\nRied, a little further along the valley, is adorned with several very\ncreditable pictures by native artists. It is the native place of one\nof the bravest of the defenders of throne and country, so celebrated\nin local annals of the early part of the century, Sebastian Riedl. He\nwas only thirty-nine at his death in 1821. Once, on an occasion of\nhis fulfilling a mission to General Blucher, he received from him a\npresent of a hussar's jacket, which he wore at the battle of Katzbach,\nand it is still shown with pride by his compatriots.\n\nThe Zillerthal was the only part of Tirol where Lutheranism ever\nobtained any hold over the people. The population was very thin and\nscattered, consequently they were out of the way of the regular\nmeans of instruction in their own faith; and it often happened,\nwhen their dwellings and lands were devastated by inundations, that\nthey were driven to seek a livelihood by carrying gloves, bags,\nand other articles made of chamois leather, also of the horns of\ngoats and cattle, into the neighbouring states of Germany. Hence\nthey often came back imbued with the new doctrines, and bringing\nbooks with them, which may have spread them further. This went on,\nthough without attracting much attention, till the year 1830, when\nthey demanded permission to erect a church of their own. The St\u00e4nde\nof Tirol were unanimous, however, to resist any infringement of the\nunity of belief which had so long been preserved in the country. The\nEmperor confirmed their decision, and gave the schismatics the option\nof being reconciled with the Church, or of following their opinions\nin other localities of the empire where Lutheran communities already\nexisted. A considerable number chose the latter alternative, and peace\nwas restored to the Zillerthal. Every facility was given them by the\ngovernment for making the move advantageously, and the inhabitants,\nwho had been long provoked by the scorn and ridicule with which the\nexiles had treated their time-honoured observances, held a rejoicing\nat the deliverance.\n\nAt the farther end of the valley is Zell, which though smaller in\npopulation than F\u00fcgen, has come to be considered its chief town. Its\nprincipal inn, for there are several--zum Post--if I recollect\nright, claims to be not merely a Gasthaus, but a Gasthof. The\nBrauhaus, however, with less pretension, is a charming resort of\nthe old-fashioned style, under the paternal management of Franz\nEigner, whose daughters sing their local melodies with great zest and\ntaste. The church, dedicated to St. Vitus, is modern, having been built\nin 1771-82; but its slender green steeple is not inelegant. It contains\nsome meritorious frescoes by Zeiler. The town contains some most\npicturesque buildings, as the Presbytery, grandiloquently styled the\nDechanthof, one or two educational establishments, several well-to-do\nprivate houses, and the town-hall, once a flourishing brewery, which\nfailed--I can hardly guess how, for the chief industry of the place\nis supplying the neighbourhood with beer.\n\nA mile beyond Zell is Hainzenberg, where the process of gold-washing on\na small scale may be studied, said to be carried on by the owner, the\nBishop of Brizen, on a sort of ultra-co-operative principle, as a means\nof support to the people of the place, without profit to himself. There\nis also a rather fine waterfall in the neighbourhood, and an inn where\nluncheon may be had. The most interesting circumstance, perhaps, in\nconnexion with Zell is the Kirchweih-fest, which is very celebrated\nin all the country round. I was not fortunate enough to be in the\nneighbourhood at the right time of year to witness it. On the other\nside of the Hainzenberg, where the mountain climber can take his start\nfor the Gerlozalp, is a little sanctuary called Mari\u00e4-rastkapelle,\nand behind it runs a sparkling brook. Of the chapel the following\nsingular account is given:--In olden time there stood near the stream\na patriarchal oak sacred to Hulda; [54] after the introduction of\nChristianity the tree was hewn down, and as they felled it they heard\nHulda cry out from within. The people wanted to build up a chapel on\nthe spot in honour of the Blessed Virgin, and began to collect the\nmaterials. No sooner had the labourers left their work, however,\nthan there appeared an army of ravens, who, setting themselves\nvigorously to the task, carried every stone and every balk of wood\nto a neighbouring spot. This happened day after day, till at last\nthe people took it as a sign that the soil profaned by the worship\nof Hulda was not pleasing to heaven, and so they raised their chapel\non the place pointed out by the ravens, where it now stands.\n\nAfter Mayrhof, the next village (with three inns), in the neighbourhood\nof which garnets are found and mills for working them abound, the\nZillerthal spreads out into numerous branches of great picturesqueness,\nbut adapted only to the hardy pedestrian, as the Floitenthal,\nthe Sondergrundthal, the Hundskehlthal (Dog's-throat valley), the\nStillupethal, with its Teufelsteg, a bridge spanning a giddy ravine,\nand its dashing series of waterfalls. The whole closed in by the Zemmer\nrange and its glaciers, the boundary against South-Tirol, said to\ncontain some of the finest scenery and best hunting-grounds in the\ncountry. It has been also called the 'el Dorado' of the botanist\nand the mineralogist. The most important of these by-valleys is\nthe Duxerthal, by non-Tiroleans generally written Tuxerthal, a very\nhigh-lying tract of country, and consequently one of the coldest and\nwildest districts of Tirol. Nevertheless, its enclosed and secluded\nretreat retains a saying perhaps many thousand years old, that once\nit was a bright and fertile spot yielding the richest pastures, and\nthat then the population grew so wanton in their abundance that they\nwasted their substance. Then there came upon them from above an icy\nblast, before which their children and their young cattle sank down\nand died; and the herbage was, as it were, bound up, and the earth was\nhardened, so that it only brought forth scarce and stunted herbs, and\nthe mountain which bounded their pleasant valley itself turned to ice,\nand is called to this day die gefrorene Wand, the frozen wall. The\nscattered population of this remote valley numbered so few souls,\nthat they depended on neighbouring villages for their ecclesiastical\ncare, and during winter when shut in by the snow within their natural\nfastnesses, were cut off from all spiritual ministration, so that\nthe bodies of those who died were preserved in a large chest, of\nwhich the remains are yet shown, until the spring made their removal\nto Mattrey possible. In the middle of the seventeenth century they\nnumbered 645 souls, and have now increased to about 1,400; about the\nyear 1686 they built a church of their own, which is now served by\ntwo or three priests. For the first couple of miles the valley sides\nare so steep, that the only level ground between them is the bed of\nan oft-times torrential stream, but yet they are covered almost to\nthe very top with a certain kind of verdure; further on it widens\nout into the district of Hinterdux, which is a comparatively pleasant\ncheerful spot, with some of the small cattle (which are reared here\nas better adapted to the gradients on which they have to find their\nfood,) browsing about, and sundry goats and sheep, quite at home on\nthe steeps. But scarce a tree or shrub is to be seen--just a few firs,\nand here and there a solitary mountain pine; and in the coldest season\nthe greatest suffering is experienced from want of wood to burn. The\nonly resource is grubbing up the roots remaining from that earlier\nhappier time, which but for this proof might have been deemed fabulous.\n\nThe hardships which the inhabitants of this valley cheerfully undergo\nought to serve as a lesson of diligence indeed. The whole grass-bearing\nsoil is divided among them. The more prosperous have a cow or more of\ntheir own, by the produce of which they live; others take in cows from\nInnsbruck and Hall to graze. The butter they make becomes an article of\nmerchandise, the transport of which over the mountain paths provides\na hard and precarious livelihood for a yet poorer class; the pay is\nabout a halfpenny per lb. per day, and to make the wage eke out a\nman will carry a hundred and a woman fifty to seventy pounds through\nall weathers and over dangerous paths, sleeping by night on the hard\nground, the chance of a bundle of hay in winter being a luxury; and\none of their snow-covered peaks is with a certain irony named the\nFederbett. They make some six or seven cwt. of cheese in the year,\nbut this is kept entirely for home consumption.\n\nThe care of these cattle involves a labour which only the strongest\nconstitution could stand--a continual climbing of mountains in the\ncold, often in the dark, during great part of the year allowing\nscarcely four or five hours for sleep. Nor is this their only\nindustry. They contrive also to grow barley and flax; this never\nripens, yet they make from it a kind of yarn, which finds a ready sale\nin Innsbruck; they weave from it too a coarse linen, which helps to\nclothe them, together with the home-spun wool of their sheep. Also, by\nan incredible exercise of patience, they manage to heap up and support\na sufficient quantity of earth round the rough and stony soil of their\nvalley to set potatoes, carrots, and other roots. Notwithstanding\nall these hardships, they are generally a healthy race, remarkable\nfor their endurance, frugality, and love of home. Neither does their\nhard life make them neglect the improvement of the mind; nowhere are\nschools more regularly attended, although the little children have\nmany of them an hour or two's walk through the snow. The church is\nequally frequented; so that if the great cold be sent, as the legend\nteaches, as a chastisement, [55] the people seem to have had grace\ngiven them to turn it to good account.\n\nThe Zemgrund, Zamsergrund, and the Schwarzensteingrund, are other\npedestrian excursions much recommended from Mayrhof, but all equally\nrequire the aid of local guides, and have less to repay toil than\nthose already described.\n\nTravellers who merely pass through Tirol by rail may catch a sight\nof the mountains which hem in the Duxerthal, just after passing the\nstation of Steinach, on their left hand, when facing the south.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL (RIGHT INN-BANK).\n\n(ZILLERTHAL CUSTOMS.--THE WILDSCH\u00d6NAU.)\n\n\n            Deep secret springs lie buried in man's heart,\n            Which Nature's varied aspect works at will;\n            Whether bright hues or shadows she impart,\n            Or fragrant odours from her breath distil,\n            Or the clear air with sounds melodious fill;\n            She speaks a language with instruction fraught,\n            And Art from Nature steals her mimic skill,\n            Whose birds, whose rills, whose sighing winds first taught\n            That sound can charm the soul, and rouse each noble thought.\n\n                                                    Lady Charlotte Bury.\n\n\nWe had parted from the Zillerthal, and had once more taken our places\nin the railway carriage at Jenbach for a short stage to reach Kundl,\n[56] as a base of operations for visiting the Wildsch\u00f6nau, as well as\nthe country on the other side of the Inn. The entry was effected with\nthe haste usual at small stations, where the advent of a traveller,\nmuch more of a party of tourists, is an exceptional event. The\nadjustment of our bags and rugs was greatly facilitated by the\nassistance of the only occupant of the compartment into which we\nwere thrust; and when we had settled down and expressed our thanks\nfor his urbanity, I observed that he eyed us with an amused but not\nunpleasant scrutiny. At last his curiosity overcame his reticence. 'I\nhave frequent occasion to travel this way to Munich and Vienna,'\nhe said, 'and I do not remember ever to have fallen in with any\nstrangers starting from Jenbach.'\n\nThe conversation so opened soon revealed that our new friend, though\nspending most of his time in the Bavarian and Austrian capitals,\nnevertheless retained all a mountaineer's fondness for the Tirolese\nland, which had given him birth some seventy years before. He was\ngreatly interested in our exploration of the Zillerthal, but much\nannoyed that we were leaving instead of entering it; had it been the\nother way, he said, he would have afforded us an acquaintance with\nlocal customs such as, he was sure, no other part of Europe could\noutvie. I assured him I had been disappointed at not coming across\nthem during our brief visit, but fully hoped on some future occasion\nto have better success. He warmly recommended me not to omit the\nattempt, and for my encouragement cited a local adage testifying to\nthe attractions of the valley--\n\n\n    Wer da kommt in's Zillerthal\n    Der kommt gewiss zum Zweitenmal. [57]\n\n\nHe was interesting us much in his vividly-coloured sketches of peasant\nlife, when the train came to a stand; the guard shouted 'Kundl,' and\nwe were forced to part. He gave us an address in Munich, however,\nwhere we were afterwards fortunate enough to find him; and he then\ngave me some precious particulars, which I was not slow to garner.\n\nHe seemed to know the people well, having lived much among them in\nhis younger days, and claimed for them--perhaps with some little\npartiality--the character of being industrious, temperate, moral, and\nstraightforward, even above the other dwellers in Tirol; and no less,\nof being physically the finest race. Their pure bracing mountain air,\nthe severe struggle which nature wages with them in their cultivation\nof the fruits of the soil, and the hardy athletic pursuits with which\nthey vary their round of agricultural labour, tend to maintain and\never invigorate this original stock of healthfulness. Their athletic\ngames are indeed an institution to which they owe much, and which they\nkeep up with a devotion only second to that with which they cultivate\ntheir religious observances. Every national and social festival is\ncelebrated with these games. The favourite is the scheibenschiessen,\nor shooting at a mark, for accuracy in which they are celebrated in\ncommon with the inhabitants of all other districts of the country,\nbut are beaten by none; their stutze (short-barrelled rifle) they\nregard more in the light of a friend and companion than a weapon,\nand dignify it with the household name of the bread-winner. Wrestling\nis another favourite sport; to be the champion wrestler of the hamlet\nis a distinction which no inhabitant of the Zillerthal would barter\nfor gold. The best 'Haggler,' 'Mairraffer,' and 'Roblar'--three\ndenominations of wrestlers--are regarded somewhat in the light of a\nsuperior order of persons, and command universal respect. In wilder\ntimes, it is true, this ran into abuse; and some who had attained\nexcellence in an art so dangerous when misapplied betook themselves\nto a life of violence and freebooting; but this has entirely passed\naway now, and anything like a highway robbery is unheard of. The most\nchivalrous rules guard the decorum of the game, which every bystander\nfeels it a point of honour to maintain; the use even of the stossring,\na stout metal ring for the little finger, by which a telling and\nsometimes disfiguring blow may be given by a dexterous hand, is\ndiscouraged. It is still worn, however, and prized more than as a\nmere ornament--as a challenge of the wearer's power to wield it if he\nchoose, or if provoked to show his prowess. Running in races--which,\nI know not why, they call springen--obtains favour at some seasons\nof the year. At bowls and skittles, too, they are famous hands; and\nin their passion for the games have originated a number of fantastic\nstories of how the fairies and wild men of the woods indulge in them\ntoo. Many a herdsman, on his long and solitary watch upon the distant\nheights, gives to the noises of nature which he has heard, but could\nnot account for, an origin which lives in the imagination of those to\nwhom he recounts it on his return home; and his fancies are recorded\nas actual events. But that the spirits play at skittles, and with gold\nand silver balls, is further confirmed by peasants who have lost their\nway in mists and snow-storms, and whose troubled dreams have made\npleasant stories. One of these, travelling with his pedlar's pack,\nsought refuge from the night air in the ruined castle of Starkenberg,\nthe proud stronghold of a feudal family, second only in importance\nto the Rottenburgers, and equally brought low by Friedrich mit der\nleeren Tasche. The pedlar was a bold wrestler, and felt no fear of\nthe airy haunters of ruined castles. He made a pillow of his pack,\nand laid him down to sleep as cosily as if at home, in the long dank\ngrass; nevertheless, when the clock of the distant village church--to\nwhose striking he had been listening hour by hour with joy, as an\nearnest that by the morning light he would know how to follow its\nguiding to the inhabited locality it denoted--sang out the hour of\nmidnight, twelve figures in ancient armour stalked into the hall,\nand set themselves to play at bowls, for which they were served with\nskulls. The pedlar was a famous player, and nothing daunted, took\nup a skull, and set himself to play against them, and beat them all;\nthen there was a shout of joy, such as mortal ears had never heard,\nand the twelve spirits declared they were released. Scarcely had they\ndisappeared, when ten more spirits, whom the pedlar concluded like\nthe last to be retainers of the mighty Starkenberger of old, entered\nby different doors, which they carefully locked behind them, and then\nbringing our hero the keys, begged him to open the doors each with the\nright one. The pedlar was a shrewd fellow; and though doors, keys,\nand spirits were each alike of their kind, his observation had been\nso accurate that he opened each with the right key without hesitation,\nwhereupon the ten spirits declared themselves released too. Then came\nin the Evil One, furious with the pedlar, who was setting free all his\ncaptives, and swore he would have him in their stead. But the pedlar\ndemanded fair play, and offered to stake his freedom on a game with\nhis Arch-Impiety. The pedlar won, and the demon withdrew in ignominy;\nbut the released spirits came round their deliverer, and loaded him\nwith as much gold and valuable spoil as he could carry.\n\nThis story seemed to me to belong to a class not unfrequently met with,\nbut yet differing from the ordinary run of legends on this subject,\ninasmuch as the spirits, who were generally believed to be bound\nto earth in penance, were released by no act of Christian virtue,\nand without any appeal to faith; and I could not help asking my old\nfriend if he did not think this very active clever pedlar might have\nbeen one of those who according to his own version had indulged in\nfreebooting tendencies, and that having with a true Zillerthaler's\ntendencies pined to return to his native valley, he had invented the\ntale to account for his accession of fortune, and the nature of his\npossessions. I think my friend was a little piqued at my unmasking\nhis hero, but he allowed it was not an improbable solution for the\norigin of some similar tales.\n\nPrizes, he went on to tell me, are often set up for excellence in these\ngames, which are cherished as marks of honour, without any reference to\ntheir intrinsic value. And so jealously is every distinction guarded,\nthat a youth may not wear a feather or the sprig of rosemary, bestowed\nby a beloved hand, in his jaunty hat, unless he is capable of proving\nhis right to it by his pluck and muscular development.\n\nDancing is another favourite recreation, and is pursued with a zest\nwhich makes it a healthful and useful exercise too. The Schnodah\u00fcpfl\nand the Hosennagler are as dear to the Zillerthaler as the Bolera\nto the Andalusian or the Jota to the Aragonese; like the Spanish\nSeguidillas, too, the Zillerthalers accompany their dance with\nsprightly songs, which are often directed to inciting each other not\nto flag.\n\nAnother amusement, in which they have a certain similarity with\nSpaniards, is cow-fighting. But it is not a mere sport, and cruelty\nis as much avoided as possible, for the beasts are made to fight\nonly with each other, and only their natural weapons--each other's\nhorns--are brought against them. The victorious cow is not only\nthe glory and darling of her owner, who loads her with garlands and\ncaresses; but the fight serves to ascertain the hardy capacity of\nthe animals as leaders of the herd, an office which is no sinecure,\nwhen they have to make their way to and from steep pastures difficult\nof access. [58] Ram and goat fights are also held in the same way,\nand with the same object.\n\nThe chief occasions for exercising these pastimes are the village\nfestivals, the Kirchtag, or anniversary of the Church consecration,\nthe Carnival season, weddings and baptisms, and the opening of the\nseason for the Scheibenschiessen; also the days of pilgrimages to\nvarious popular shrines; and the Primizen and Sekundizen--the first\nMass of their pastors, and its fiftieth anniversary--general festivals\nall over Tirol.\n\nA season of great enjoyment is the Carnival, which with them begins\nat the Epiphany. Their great delight then is to go out in the dusk of\nevening, when work is over, disguised in various fantastic dresses,\nand making their way round from house to house, set the inmates\nguessing who they can be. As they are very clever in arranging all\nthe accessories of their assumed character, changing their voice and\nmien, each visit is the occasion of the most laughable mistakes. In\nthe towns, the Carnival procession is generally got up with no little\ntaste and artistic skill. The arch-buffoon goes on ahead, a loud\nand merry jingle of bells announcing his advent at every movement of\nthe horse he bestrides, collects the people out of every house. Then\nfollow, also mounted, a train of maskers, Turks, soldiers, gipsies,\npirates; and if there happen to be among them anyone representing a\njudge or authority of any sort, he is always placed at the head of\nthe tribe. In the evening, their perambulations over, they assemble in\nthe inn, where the acknowledged wag of the locality reads a humorous\ndiatribe, which touches on all the follies and events, that can be\nanyhow made to wear a ridiculous aspect, of the past year.\n\nChristmas--here called Christnacht as well as Weihnacht--is observed\n(as all over the country, but especially here) by dispensing the\nKloubabrod, a kind of dough cake, stuffed with sliced pears, almonds,\nnuts, and preserved fruits. The making of this is a particular item in\nthe education of a Zillerthaler maiden, who has a special interest in\nit, inasmuch as the one she prepares for the household must have the\nfirst cut in it made by her betrothed, who at the same time gives her\nsome little token of his affection in return. Speaking of Christmas\ncustoms reminded my informant of an olden custom in Brixen, that the\nBishop should make presents of fish to his retainers. This fish was\nbrought from the Garda-see, and the Graf of Tirol and the Prince-bishop\nof Trent were wont to let it pass toll-free through their dominions. A\ncurious letter is extant, written by Bishop R\u00f6tel, 'an sambstag nach\nSt\u00e6. Barbar\u00e6, 1444,' courteously enforcing this privilege.\n\nThe Sternsingen is a favourite way of keeping the Epiphany in\nmany parts of the country. Three youths, one of them with his face\nblackened, and all dressed to represent the three kings, go about\nsinging from homestead to homestead; and in some places there is\na Herod ready to greet them from the window with riming answers to\ntheir verses, of which the following is a specimen: it is the address\nof the first king--\n\n\n    K\u00f6nig Kaspar bin ich gennant\n    Komm daher aus Morgenland\n    Komm daher in grosser Eil\n    Vierzehn Tag, f\u00fcnftausend Meil.\n    Melchores tritt du herein. [59]\n\n\nMelchior, thus appealed to, stands forward and sings his lay; and\nthen Balthazar; and then the three join in a chorus, in which certain\nhints are given that as they come from so far some refreshment would\nbe acceptable; upon which the friendly peasant-wife calls them in,\nand regales them with cakes she has prepared ready for the purpose, and\nsends them on their mountain-way rejoicing. Possibly some such custom\nmay have given rise to the institution of our 'Twelfth-cake.' In the\nOEtzthal they go about with the greeting, 'Gelobt sei Jesus Christus\nzur G\u00f6macht.' [60] Another Tirolean custom connected with Epiphany\nwas the blessing of the stalls of the cattle on the eve, in memory\nof the stable in which the Wise Men found the Holy Family.\n\nTheir wedding f\u00eates seem to be among the most curious of all their\ncustoms. My friend gave me a detailed account of one, between two\nfamilies of the better class of peasants, which he had attended some\nyears back; and he believed they were little changed since. It is\nregarded as an occasion of great importance; and as soon as the banns\nhad been asked in church, the bridegroom went round with a chosen\nfriend styled a Hochzeitsbitter, to invite friends and relations to\nthe marriage. The night before the wedding (for which throughout Tirol\na Thursday is chosen, except in the Iselthal, where a preference for\nMonday prevails), there was a great dance at the house of the bride,\nwho from the moment the banns have been asked is popularly called the\nKanzel-Braut. 'Rather, I should say,' he pursued, 'it was in the barn;\nfor though a large cottage, there was no room that would contain the\nnumbers of merry couples who flocked in, and even the barn was so\ncrowded, that the dancers could but make their way with difficulty,\nand were continually tumbling over one another; but it was a merry\nnight, for all were in their local costume, and the pine-wood torches\nshed a strange and festive glare over them. The next morning all were\nassembled betimes. It was a bitterly cold day, but the snow-storm was\neagerly hailed, as it is reckoned a token that the newly-wedded pair\nwill be rich; we met first at the bride's house for what they called\nthe Morgensuppe, a rough sort of hearty breakfast of roast meat,\nwhite bread, and sausages; and while the elder guests were discussing\nit, many were hard at work again dancing, and the young girls of the\nvillage were dressing up the bride--one of the adornments de rigueur\nbeing a knot of streamers of scarlet leather trimmed with gold lace,\nand blue arm-bands and hat-ribbons; these streamers are thought by the\nsimple people to be a cure for goitres, and are frequently bound round\nthem with that idea. At ten o'clock the first church bell rang, when\nall the guests hastily assembled round the table, and drank the health\nof the happy pair in a bowl from which they had first drank. Then they\nranged themselves into a procession, and marched towards the church,\nthe musicians leading the way. The nearest friends of the bridal pair\nwere styled \"train-bearers,\" and formed a sort of guard of honour\nround the bride, walking bare-headed, their hats, tastily wreathed\nwith flowers, in their hands. The priest of the village walked by\nthe bride on one side, her parents on the other. She wore a wreath of\nrosemary--a plant greatly prized here, as among the people of Spain\nand Italy, and considered typical of the Blessed Virgin's purity--in\nher hair; her holiday dress was confined by a girdle, and she held\nher rosary in her hand. The bridegroom was almost as showily dressed,\nand wore a crown of silver wire; beside him walked another priest,\nand behind them came the host of the village inn, a worthy who holds a\nkind of patriarchal position in our villages. He is always one of the\nmost important men of the place, generally owns the largest holding\nof land, and drives one or two little trades besides attending to the\nwelfare of his guests. But more than this, he is for the most part\na man of upright character and pleasant disposition, and is often\ncalled to act as adviser and umpire in rural complications.\n\n'The procession was closed by the friends and neighbours, walking\ntwo and two, husband and wife together; and the church bells rang\nmerrily through the valley as it passed along.\n\n'The ceremonial in the church was accompanied with the best music\nthe locality could afford, the best singers from the neighbouring\nchoirs lending their voices. To add to the solemnity of the occasion,\nlighted tapers were held by the bridal party at the Elevation; and it\nwas amusing to observe how the young people shunned a candle that did\nnot burn brightly, as that is held to be an omen of not getting married\nwithin the year. At the close of the function, the priest handed round\nto them the Johannissegen, a cup of spiced wine mixed with water,\nwhich he had previously blessed, probably so called in memory of the\nmiracle at the wedding-feast recorded in the Gospel of that Apostle.\n\n'The band then struck up its most jocund air, and full of mirth the\ngladsome party wended their way to the inn. After a light repast\nand a short dance, and a blithesome Trutzlied, they passed on,\naccording to custom, to the next, and so on to all the inns within\na radius of a few miles. This absorbed about three or four hours;\nand then came the real wedding banquet, which was a very solid and\nlong affair--in fact, I think fresh dishes were being brought in\none after another for three or four hours more. Even in this there\nwas a memory of the Gospel narrative, for in token of their joy they\nkeep for the occasion a fatted calf, the whole of which is served up\njoint by joint, not omitting the head; this was preceded by soup,\nand followed by a second course of sweet dumplings, with fruit and\nthe inevitable pickled cabbage, which on this day is dignified with\nthe title of Ehrenkraut. After this came a pause; and the musicians,\nwho had been playing their loudest hitherto, held in too. The \"best\nman\" rose, and went through the formula of asking the guests whether\nthey were content with what had been set before them, which of course\nwas drowned in a tumult of applause. In a form, which serves from\ngeneration to generation with slight change, he then went on to remark\nthat the good gifts of meat and drink of which they had partaken came\nfrom the hand of God, and called forth the gratitude of the receiver,\nadding, \"Let us thank Him for them, and still more in that He has\nmade us reasonable beings, gifting us with faith, and not brutes or\nunbelievers. If we turn to Him in this spirit, He will abide with us\nas with them of Cana in Galilee. Therefore, let all anger and malice\nand evil speaking be put away from us, who have just been standing\nbefore the most holy Sacrament, and let us be united in the bonds of\nbrotherly love, that His Blood may not have been poured out for us in\nvain. And to you, dear friends, who have this day been united with\nthe grace-giving benediction of the Church, I commend this union of\nheart and soul most of all, that the new family thus founded in our\nmidst may help to build up the living edifice of a people praising\nand serving God, and that you walk in His way, and bring up children\nto serve Him as our forefathers have ever done.\" There was a good\ndeal more in the same strain; and this exhortation to holy living,\nfrom one of themselves, is just a type of the intimate way in which\nreligion enters into the life of the people. His concluding wish for\nthe well-being of the newly married was followed by a loud \"Our Father\"\nand \"Hail Mary\" from the assembled throng.\n\n'After this came a great number more dishes of edibles, but this time\nof a lighter kind; among them liver and poultry, but chiefly fruits and\nsweets; and among these many confections of curious devices, mostly\nwith some symbolical meaning. When these were nearly despatched,\nwine and brandy were brought out by the host; and by this name you\nmust understand the master of the inn; for, true to the paternal\ncharacter of which I have already spoken, it is always his business\nto cater for and preside over bridal banquets. At the same time the\nguests produced their presents, which go by the name of Waisat, and\nall were set down in a circumstantial catalogue. They are generally\nmeted out with an open hand, and are a great help to the young people\nin beginning their housekeeping.\n\n'The musicians, who only got hasty snatches of the good things\npassing round, now began yet livelier strains, and the party broke\nup that the younger members might give themselves to their favourite\npastime, dancing; and well enough they looked, the lads in brilliant\nred double-breasted waistcoats, their short black leather breeches held\nup with embroidered belts, and their well-formed high-pointed hats with\njaunty brim, going through the intricate evolutions, each beating the\ntime heartily, first on his thighs and then on his feet--schuhplatteln\nthey call it--and followed through the mazy figures by his diandl\n(damsel), in daintily fitting satin bodice, and short but ample skirt.\n\n'The older people still lingered over the table, and looked on at\nthe dance, which they follow with great interest; but there is\nnot a great deal of drinking, and it is seldom enough, even in\nthe midst of an occasion for such exceptional good cheer, that\nany excess is committed. A taste for brandy--the poor brandy of\ntheir own manufacture--is however, I confess, a weakness of the\nZillerthalers. The necessity for occasionally having recourse to\nstimulants results from the severity of the climate during part of\nthe year, and the frequently long exposure to the mountain air which\ntheir calling requires of them. At the same time, anything like a\nconfirmed drunkard is scarcely known among them. Its manufacture\naffords to many an occupation; and its use to all, of both sexes, is\na national habit. They make it out of barley, juniper, and numbers of\nother berries (which they wander collecting over all the neighbouring\nalps), as well as rye, potatoes, and other roots--in fact, almost\nanything. Every commercial bargain, every operation in the field, every\nneighbourly discussion, every declaration of affection even, is made\nunder its afflatus. An offer of a glass of the cordial will often make\nup a long-harboured quarrel, a refusal to share one is taken to be a\nstudied affront; in fact, this zutrinken, as they call it, comes into\nevery act and relation of life. In the moderate bounds within which\nthey keep its use, it is undeniably a great boon to them; and many a\ntime it has been the saving of life in the mountains to the shepherd\nand the milk-maid, the snow-bound labourer or retarded pedlar.'\n\nI was curious to know what customs the other valley had to replace\nthose of the Ziller. My friend informed me they were very similar, only\nthe Zillerthalers were celebrated for their attachment to and punctual\nobservance of them. He had once attended a wedding in the Gr\u00f6dnerthal\nwhich was very similar to the one he had already described, yet had\nsome distinct peculiarities. Though a little out of place, I may as\nwell bring in his account of it here. There, the betrothal is called\nder Handschlag (lit. the hand-clasp), and it is always performed on\na Saturday. The fathers of the bride and bridegroom and other nearest\nrelations are always present as witnesses; and if the bride does not\ncry at the projected parting, it is said she will have many tears\nto shed during her married life. The first time the banns are asked\nit is not considered 'the thing' for the betrothed to be present,\nand they usually go to church on that occasion in some neighbouring\nvillage; on the second Sunday they are expected to appear in state,\nthe bridegroom wearing his holiday clothes and a nosegay in his hat\nor on his right breast. The bride always wears the local costume, a\nbroadish brimmed green hat, a scarlet boddice and full black skirt,\nthough this is now only worn on such occasions; on the day of the\nwedding, to this is added a broad black satin ribbon round her head,\nand round her waist a leather girdle with a number of useful articles\nin plated copper hanging from it. On each side are arranged red and\ngreen streamers with very great nicety, and no change of fashion is\nsuffered in their position; she is expected to wear a grave mien and\nmodest deportment; this is particularly enjoined. The guests are also\nexpected to don the popular costume; the girls green, the married\nwomen black hats. On the way to the church the bridegroom's father\nand his nearest neighbour came forward, and with many ceremonies asked\nthe bride of her friends, and she went crying coyly with them. After\nthe church ceremony, which concludes as in Zillerthal with the cup\nof S. Johannessegen, the bridesmaids hand in a basket decked with\nknots of ribbon, containing offerings for the priests and servers,\nand a wreath, which is fastened round the priest's arm who leads the\nbride out of church. The visit to the neighbouring inn follows; but\nat the wedding feast guests come in in masquerading dresses bringing\nall manner of comical presents. The dance here lasts till midnight,\nwhen the happy pair are led home by their friends to an accompaniment\nof music, for which they have a special melody. The next day again\nthere are games, and the newly married go in procession with their\nfriends to bear home the trousseau and wedding gifts, among which is\nalways a bed and bedding. On their way back beggars are allowed to bar\nthe way at intervals, who must be bought off with alms. On the Sunday\nfollowing the bride is expected again to appear at church in the local\ncostume, and in the afternoon all the guests of the wedding day again\ngather in the inn to present their final offering of good wishes and\nblessings. Girls who are fond of cats, they say, are sure to marry\nearly; perhaps an evidence that household virtues are appreciated\nin them by the men; but of men, the contrary is predicated, showing\nthat the other sex is expected to display hardihood in the various\nmountaineering and other out-door occupations. [61]\n\n\n\nKundl, whither we were bound before being tempted to make this\ndigression, gives entrance to the Wildsch\u00f6nau according to modern\northography, the Witschnau, or Wiltschnau, according to local and\nmore correct pronunciation (sometimes corrupted into Mitschnau),\nas the name is derived from wiltschen, to flow, and au, water, the\nparticular water in this case being the Kundler-Ache, which here\nflows into the Inn. It is a little valley improving in beauty as you\npursue it eastwards, not more than seven leagues in length, and seldom\nvisited, for its roads are really only fit for pedestrians; hence its\nsecluded inhabitants have acquired a character for being suspicious of\nstrangers, though proverbially hospitable to one another. One of its\npoints of greatest interest is the church of St. Leonhard, described\nin the last chapter. Overhanging the road leading from it to Kundl,\nstand the remains of the castle of Niederaich, now converted into\na farm stable, and its moat serving as a conduit of water for the\ncattle. At the time it was built by Ambrose Blank in the sixteenth\ncentury, the silver mines then in work made this a most flourishing\nlocality. At that time, too, there stood overlooking the town the\nKundlburg, of which still slighter traces remain, the residence\nof the Kummerspruggers, who, in the various wars, always supported\nthe house of Bavaria. The chief industry of Kundl at present is the\nconstruction of the boats which navigate the Inn, and carry the rich\nproduce of the Tirolean pastures to Vienna. Oberau is situated on\na commanding plateau, and its unpretending inn 'auf dem Keller,'\noffers a good resting-place. The church was burnt down in 1719,\nand the present one, remarkable for its size if for nothing else,\nwas completed just a hundred years ago. It is, however, remarkable\nalso for its altar-piece--the Blessed Virgin between S. Barbara and\nS. Margaret--by a local artist, and far above what might be expected\nin so sequestered a situation. At a distance of three or four miles,\nNiederau is reached, passing first a sulphur spring, esteemed by the\npeasants of the neighbourhood. The openest and most smiling--most\nfriendly, to use the German expression--part of the valley is between\nAuffach and Kelchsau, where is situated Kobach, near which may be seen\nlateral shafts of the old mines extending to a distance of many hundred\nfeet. From Kelchsau a foot-path leads in an hour more to H\u00f6rbrunn,\nwhere there is a brisk little establishment of glass-works, whose\nproductions go all over Tirol. Then westwards over the Plaknerjoch\nto Altbach, passing Thierberg (not the same as that mentioned near\nKufstein), once the chief seat of the silver-works, its only remaining\nattraction being the beautiful view to be obtained from its heights\nover the banks of the Inn, and the whole extent of country between\nit and Bavaria. From Altbach it is an hour more back to Brixlegg.\n\nThe memory of the former metallic wealth of the valley is preserved in\nnumerous tales of sudden riches overtaking the people in all manner of\ndifferent ways, as in the specimens already given. Here is a similar\none belonging to this spot. A peasant going out with his waggon found\none day in the way a heap of fine white wheat. Shocked that God's\nprecious gift should be trodden under foot, he stopped his team and\ngathered up the grain, of which there was more than enough to fill all\nhis pockets; when he arrived at his destination, he found them full\nof glittering pieces of money. The origin of the story doubtless may\nbe traced to some lucky take of ore which the finder was able to sell\nat the market town; and the price which he brought home was spoken\nof as the actual article discovered. Another relic of the mining\nworks may perhaps be found in the following instance of another class\nof stories, though some very like it doubtless refer to an earlier\nbelief in hobgoblins closely allied to our own Robin Goodfellow. I\nthink a large number date from occasions when the Knappen or miners,\nwho formed a tribe apart, may have come to the aid of the country\npeople when in difficulty.\n\nThe Unterhausberg family was once powerful in Wiltschnau. When\ntheir mighty house was building, the great foundation-stone was so\nponderous that it defied all the efforts of the builders to put it\nin its place. At last they sat down to dinner; then there suddenly\ncame out of the mountain side a number of Wiltschnau dwarfs, who,\nwithout any effort, lowered the great stone into its appointed place;\nthe men offered them the best portion of their dinner, but they refused\nany reward. The dwarfs were not always so urbane, however, and there\nare many stories of their tricks: lying down in the pathways in the\ndark to make the people tumble over them; then hiding behind a tree,\nand with loud laughter mocking the disaster; [62] throwing handfuls\nof pebbles and ashes at the peasant girls as they passed; getting\ninto the store-room, and mixing together the potatoes, carrots, grain,\nand flour, which the housewife had carefully assorted and arranged. It\nwas particularly on women that their tricks were played off; and this\nto such an extent that it became the custom, even now prevailing,\nnever to send women to the Hochalm with the herds, though they go\nout into other equally remote mountain districts without fear, for\ntheir Kasa (the hut for shelter at night, here so called, in other\nparts Sennh\u00fctte,) was sure to be beset with the dwarfs, and their\nmilk-pails overturned. All these feats may, I think, be ascribed in\ntheir origin to the Knappen.\n\nThe neighbourhood of Thierberg has a story which I think also has its\nsource in mining memories. 'On the way between Altbach and Thierbach\nyou pass two houses bearing the name of \"beim Thaler.\" In olden time\nthere lived here a peasant of moderate means, who owned several head\nof cattle; Moidl, the maid, whose duty it was to take them out to\npasture on the sunny hill-side, always looked out anxiously for the\nfirst tokens of spring; for she loved better to watch the cows and\ngoats browsing the fresh grass, or venturously climbing the heights,\nto sitting in the chimney-corner dozing over the spinning-wheel. One\nday as she was at her favourite occupation, she heard a noise behind\nher, and turning round saw a door open in the mountain side, and\ntwo or three little men with long beards peeping out. Within, all\nwas dazzling with gold like the brightest sunshine. The walls were\ncovered with plates of gold, placed one over the other like scales,\nand knobs of gold like pine-apples studded the vault. The little men\nbeckoned to Moidl to come in, but she, like a modest maiden, ran home\nto her father; when he returned with her, however, to the spot, the\ndoor was no more to be found.' I think it may very well be imagined\nthat Moidl came unawares upon the opening of a lateral shaft, and\nlistened to the accounts which the Knappen may have amused themselves\nwith giving her of the riches of their diggings; while she may very\nnaturally have been afraid to explore these. The disappearance of\nthe mysterious opening is but the ordinary refrain of marvellous tales.\n\nThe Witschnauers cannot be accused of any dreamy longings after the\nrecurrence of such prosperous times. They are among the most diligent\ntillers of the land to be found anywhere; the plough is carried over\nplaces where the uneven gradients make the guiding of horses or oxen a\ntoo great expenditure of time; in such places they do not disdain to\nharness themselves to the plough, and even the women take their turn\nin relieving them. Of one husbandman of olden time it is narrated\nthat he was even too eager in his thrift, and carried his furrow a\nlittle way on to his neighbour's land year by year, so that by the\ntime he came to die he had appropriated a good strip of land not his\nown. His penance was, that after death he should continually tread up\nand down the stolen soil, dragging after him a red-hot ploughshare,\nin performing which his wail was often overhead--\n\n\n    O weh! wie is der Pflug so heiss\n    Und niemand mir zu helfen weiss! [63]\n\n\nuntil one of his successors in the farm, being a particularly\nhonourable man, removed the boundary-stone back to its original\nposition. He had no sooner done so than he had the satisfaction of\nhearing the spectre cry--\n\n\n    Erl\u00f6st, Gott sei Dank, bin ich jetzt\n    Der Markstein ist auch rechtgesetzt. [64]\n\n\nAnother class of legends has also a home in this locality. It is\ntold that a peasant from Oberau was going home from Thierbach, one\nEpiphany Eve. It was a cold night; his feet crunched the crisp snow\nat every step; the air was clear, and the stars shone brightly. The\npeasant's head, however, was not so clear as the sky, for he came from\nthe tavern, where he had been spending a merry evening with his boon\ncompanions. Thus it happened that instead of walking straight on, he\ngave one backward step for every three forward, like the Umgehende\nSchuster; [65] and thus he went staggering about till he came to\nthe Rastbank, which is even yet sought as a point where to rest and\noverlook the view. It struck twelve as he seated himself on the bench;\nthen suddenly behind him he heard a sound of many voices, which came\non nearer and nearer, and then the Berchtl in her white clothing, her\nbroken ploughshare in her hand, and all her train of little people\n[66] swept clattering and chattering close past him. The least was\nthe last, and it wore a long shirt which got in the way of its little\nbare feet, and kept tripping it up. The peasant had sense enough\nleft to feel compassion, so he took his garter off and bound it for\na girdle round the infant, and then set it again on its way. When\nthe Berchtl saw what he had done, she turned back and thanked him,\nand told him that in return for his compassion his children should\nnever come to want. This story, I think there is little doubt, may be\ngenuine; your Wiltschenauer is as fond of brandy as your Zillerthaler,\nand under its influence the peasant may very likely have passed a\ntroubled night on the Rastbank. What more likely to cross his fancy\non the Epiphany Eve than the thought of a visit from the Berchtl\nand her children (they always appear in Tirol at that season, and\nin rags and tatters [67]); his own temperament being compassionate,\nthat he should help the stumbling little one, and that the Berchtl\nshould give him promise of reward was all that might be expected from\ncertain premises. But what are those premises? Who was the Berchtl? If\nyou ask a Tirolean peasant the question, he will probably tell you\nthat the Perchtl (as he will call her) is Pontius Pilate's wife,\n[68] to whom redemption was given by reason of her intervention in\nfavour of the Man of Sorrows, but that it is her penance to wander\nover the earth till the last day as a restless spirit; and that as\nthe Epiphany was the season of favour to the Gentiles, among whose\nfirst-fruits she was, it is at that season she is most often seen,\nand in her most favourable mood. It must be confessed that some of his\nstories of her will betray a certain amount of inconsistency, for he\nwill represent her carrying off children, wounding belated passengers,\nand performing many acts inconsistent with the character of a penitent\nsoul, and more in accordance with that of the more ancient 'Lamia.'\n\nIf you address your question to Grimm, or Wolf, Simrock, Kuhn,\nSchwartz, or Mannhardt, or any who have made comparative mythology\ntheir study, he will tell you that the stories about her (and probably\nall the other marvellous tales of the people also) are to be traced\nback to the earliest mythological traditions of a primeval glimmering\nof religion spread abroad over the whole world; and to the poetical\nforms of expression of a primitive population describing the wonderful\nbut constantly repeated operations of nature. [69] That the wilder\nJ\u00e4ger was originally the god Wodin, the hunter of unerring aim, that\nhis impetuous course typifies the journey of the sun-god through the\nheavens, [70] his mighty arm represents his powerful rays; and in\neven so late a tale as 'that of William Tell, he will see the last\nreflections of the sun-god, whether we call him Indra, or Apollo,\nor Ulysses.' [71] He will tell you that all 'the countless legends of\nprincesses kept in dark prisons and invariably delivered by a young\nbright knight can all be traced back to mythological traditions\nabout the spring being released from the bonds of winter; the sun\nbeing rescued from the darkness of night; the dawn being brought\nback from the far west; the waters being set free from the prison of\nclouds.' [72] And of the Berchtl herself, he will tell you that she\nis Perahta (the bright), daughter of Dagha (the day), whose name has\nsuccessively been transformed into Perchtl and Bertha; brightness\nor whiteness has made her to be considered the goddess of winter;\nwho particularly visited the earth for twelve winter nights, and\nspoilt all the flax of those idle maidens who left any unspun on the\nlast day of the year; [73] who carries in her hand a broken plough in\ntoken that the ground is hardened against tillage; whose brightness\nhas also made her to be reckoned the all-producing earth-mother,\nwith golden hair like the waving corn; the Hertha of the Swabian;\nthe J\u00f6rtha of Scandinavian; [74] the Berecynthia of the Phrygian;\n[75] and to other nations known as Cybele, Rhea, Isis, Diana. [76]\n\nSuch ideas were too deeply rooted in the minds of the people to be\neasily superseded; as my friend, the Feldkirch postilion, said,\nthey went on and on like the echoes of their own mountains. 'The\nmissionaries were not afraid of the old heathen gods; ... their kindly\nfeeling towards the traditions, customs, and prejudices of their\nconverts must have been beneficial; ... they allowed them the use\nof the name Allfadir, whom they had invoked in the prayers of their\nchildhood, when praying to Him who is \"our Father in heaven.\"' And\nas with the greater, so with the less, the mighty powers they had\npersonified and treated as heroes and examples lived on in their\nimagination, and their glorious deeds came to be ascribed to the new\nathletes of a brighter faith. Then, 'although originally popular tales\nwere reproductions of more ancient legends, yet after a time a general\ntaste was created for marvellous stories, and new ones were invented in\nlarge numbers. Even in these purely imaginative productions, analogies\nmay be discovered with more genuine tales, because they were made after\nthe original patterns, and in many cases were mere variations on an\nancient air.' [77] More than this, there came the actual accession of\nmarvels derived from the acts inspired by the new faith; but it cannot\nbe denied that the two became strangely blended in the popular mind.\n\n\n\nBrixlegg presents some appearance of thriving, through the smelting and\nwire-drawing works for the copper ore brought from the neighbourhood\nof Schwatz. It also enjoys some celebrity as the birthplace of the\nTirolean historian Burgleckner, whose family had been respected here\nfor generations; and it is very possible to put up for the night\nat the Herrenhaus. It is not much above a mile hence to Rattenberg,\nof which I have already spoken.\n\nRattenberg was, in 1651, the scene of a tragic event, sad as the\ndenouement of many a fiction. The high-spirited consort of Archduke\nLeopold V., Claudia de' Medici, who, at his death, governed the\ncountry so well, and by her sagacity kept her dominions at peace,\nwhile the rest of Germany was immersed in the horrors of the Thirty\nYears' War, yet did not altogether escape the charge of occasional\nharshness in collecting the revenues which she knew so well how\nto administer. Her chancellor, Wilhelm Biener, a trusty and devoted\nservant and counsellor, drew on himself considerable odium for his zeal\nin these matters. On one occasion he got into a serious controversy\nwith Crosini, Bishop of Brixen, concerning the payment of certain\ntaxes from which the prelate claimed exemption, and in the course of\nit wrote him a letter couched in such very unguarded terms, that the\nbishop, unused to be so dealt with, could not forbear exclaiming, 'The\nman deserves to lose the fingers that could write such an intemperate\neffusion!' The exclamation was not thought of again till years after.\n\nClaudia died in 1648, and then the hatred against Biener, which\nwas also in some measure a hatred of races, for Claudia had many\nsoutherners at her court, broke forth without hindrance. He was\naccused [78] of appropriating the State money he had been so earnest in\ncollecting, and though tried by two Italian judges, he was ultimately\ncondemned, in 1651, to lose his head. Biener sent a statement of his\ncase to the Archduke Ferdinand Karl; and the young prince, believing\nthe honesty of his mother's faithful adviser, immediately ordered a\nreprieve. The worst enemy and prime accuser of the fallen favourite\nwas Schmaus, President of the Council, this time a German, and he\ncontrived by detaining the messenger to make him arrive just too late\nin Rattenberg, then still a strong fortress, where he lay confined,\nand where the sentence was to be carried out.\n\nBiener had all along steadfastly maintained his innocence; and stepping\non to the scaffold, he had again repeated the assertion, adding, 'So\ntruly as I am innocent, I summon my accuser before the Judgment-seat\nabove before another year is out.' [79] When the executioner stooped\nto lift up the head before the people, he found lying by its side\nthree fingers of his right hand, without having had any knowledge\nthat he had struck them off, though he might have done so by the\nunhappy man having raised his hand in the way of the sword in the\nlast struggle. The people, however, saw in it the fulfillment of the\nwords of the bishop, as well as a ghastly challenge accompanying his\ndying message to President Schmaus. Nor did they forget to note that\nthe latter died of a terrible malady some months before the close of\nthe year. Biener's wife lost her senses when she knew the terrible\ncircumstances of his death; the consolations of her director and of\nher son, who lived to his ninetieth year in the Francescan convent at\nInnsbruck, were alike powerless to calm her. She escaped in the night,\nand wandered out into the mountains no one knows whither. But the\npeople say she lives on to be a witness of her husband's innocence,\nand may be met on lonely ways proclaiming it, but never harming\nany. Only, when anyone is to die in B\u00fcchsenhausen, [80] where her\nmarried life passed so pleasantly, the 'Bienerweible' will appear\nand warn them. It is a remarkable instance of the easy way in which\none myth passes into another, that though this event happened but a\nlittle over two hundred years ago, the Bienerweible and the Berchtl\nare already confounded in the popular mind. [81]\n\nAnother name prized in Tirolese annals, which must not be forgotten in\nconnexion with Rattenberg, is Alois Sandbichler, the Bible commentator,\nwho was born there in 1751. He passed a brilliant career as Professor\nin the University of Salzburg, but died at the age of eighty in his\nnative village.\n\nThe neighbourhood of Brixlegg is very pretty, and the views from the\nbridge by no means to be overlooked.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL.\n\n(LEFT INN-BANK.)\n\n\n                            The hilles, where dwelled holy saintes,\n                              I reverence and adore\n                            Not for themselfe but for the saincts\n                              Which han been dead of yore.\n                            And now they been to heaven forewent,\n                              Their good is with them goe;\n                            Their sample onely to us lent,\n                              That als we mought doe soe.--Spenser.\n\n\nWe have hitherto been occupied almost exclusively with the right bank\nof the Inn. We will now return to Jenbach, as a starting-point for\nthe beauties of the left bank.\n\nNear the station of Jenbach is a 'Restauration,' which bears the\nsingular title of 'zum Tolerantz.' In the town, which is at some\nlittle distance on the K\u00e4sbach stream, the 'Post' affords very decent\naccommodation; The dining-room of the more primitive 'Brau' is a neat\nbuilding in the Swiss style, and commands a prospect which might more\nthan compensate for even worse fare than it affords. Jenbach had its\nname from being situated on the further side of the Inn from that\non which the old post-road had been carried. There are extensive\niron-foundries and breweries, which give the place a busy aspect,\nand an air of prosperity.\n\nThe excursions from Jenbach are countless. Between the stations\nof Brixlegg and Jenbach lie only M\u00fcnster and Wiesing, with nothing\nremarkable, except that the church of Wiesing, having been struck by\nlightning in 1782, was rebuilt with stones taken from the neighbouring\nPulverthurm, built by the Emperor Maximilian, in 1504, but destroyed\nby lightning at the same time as the church. Count Tannenberg's park\n(Thiergarten), near here, is a most curious enclosure of natural\nrock, aided by masonry, and stocked with deer, fish, and fowl. Then\nKramsach, and in the woods near it the Hilariusbergl, once inhabited\nby two hermits, and still held sacred: also the strangely wild\nRettengsch\u00f6ss and its marbles; and several remarkable Alpine peaks,\nparticularly the Zireinalpe and its little lake, bearing a memory of\nSeirens in its traditions as well as in its name. Here another river\nAche runs into the Inn, distinguished from that on the opposite side,\nas the Brandenberger Ache. At its debouche stands Voldepp, whence the\nMariathal and the Mooserthal may be visited, and 'the neighbourhood is\nrich in marbles used in the churches of Innsbruck.' [82] The Mooserthal\nis remarkable for three small lakes, which can be formed and let off\nat pleasure; they are the property of the Barons of Lichtenthurm, who\nfatten carp in them. The lowest of the three, the Rheinthalersee,\nhas the prettiest surroundings. Weber says they are all fed by\nsubterranean currents from the mountains. Ball ('Central Alps')\ntreats them as overflowings of the Inn.\n\nThe most flourishing town of the Mariathal is Achenrain, where there\nare extensive brass-works. Mass is said for the out-lying operatives\nin the Castle-chapel of Lichtenthurm. The village of Mariathal is\nvery snugly situated, almost hidden by its woods from the road. Its\nchief feature is the deserted convent of Dominicanesses founded in\nthe thirteenth century by Ulrich and Konrad v. Freundsberg; their\ndescendant, Georg v. Freundsberg, celebrated in the Thirty Years'\nWar, whom we learn more about when we come to Schwatz, also endowed\nthe nuns liberally, bidding them pray for him; his effigy may still\nbe seen in the church of Mariathal; and the convent, even in its\npresent condition, is a favourite pilgrimage. Hence a rocky defile\nof wild and varied beauty, and many miles in length, leads into\nthe Brandenbergerthal, which reaches to the Bavarian frontier. Its\nhighest point is the Steinberg, to be recognized in the distance by its\npyramidal form, which is situated within what the Germans graphically\nterm a cauldron (Gebirgskessel) of mountains, and is shut off from\nall communication with the outer world by the snow during the winter\nmonths. The Brandenbergers have been famous for their patriotism and\ndefence of their independence during all the various conflicts with\nBavaria, and they love to call their native soil the Heimaththal and\nthe Freiheitthal. The only tale of the supernatural I have met with\nas connected with this locality is the following; it has a certain\nwild grasp, but its moral is not easy to trace; it is analogous,\nhowever, to many traditions of other places.\n\n'One of the Jochs surrounding the Brandenbergerthal was celebrated for\nits rich grasses; on its \"alm\" [83] the cattle often found pasturage\neven late in the winter. The Senner [84] here watching his flocks was\nvisited one Christmas Eve by an old man in thick winter clothing,\nwith a mighty pine-staff in his hand; he begged the Senner on the\ncoming night to heat his hut as hot as ever he could, assuring him he\nwould have no cause to regret his compliance. The Senner thought it\nwas a strange adventure, but congratulated himself that it might be\nthe means of propitiating the goblins, of whose pranks in the winter\nnights he was not without his fears. So he heaped log upon log all\nday, till the hut was so hot he could hardly bear it. Then he crept\nunder a bench in the corner where a little chink gave a breath from\nthe outer air, and waited to see what would come to pass. Towards\nmidnight he heard steps approaching nearer and nearer, and then there\nwas a sound of heavy boots stamping off the snow. Immediately after,\nseven men stepped into the room in silence. Their boots and clothes\nwere all frozen as hard as if they had been carved out of ice, and\ntheir very presence served to cool down the air of the hut to such\nan extent that the Senner was now obliged to rub his hands. When\nthey had stood a considerable space round the fire without uttering\na word, they all seven left the hut as silently and solemnly as they\nhad entered it. The Senner now crawled out of his hiding-place, and\na loud cry of joy burst spontaneously from his lips, for his hat,\nwhich he had left on the table, was full of bright shining golden\nzwanzigers. These seven, the legend goes on to say, 'were never seen\nbut this once. They were the seven Goldherds of the Reiche Spitze (on\nthe Salzburg frontier); for up there there are exhaustless treasures,\nbut whatever a mortal takes of them during life, he must suffer the\nCold Torment and keep watch over it after death; and of such there\nhave been seven in the course of the world's ages.'\n\nWith regard to 'the Cold Torment,' [85] they have the following legend\nin the neighbourhood of Innsbruck:--There was once a peasant who\nhad been very unlucky, and got so deep in debt that he saw no way of\nextricating himself. Unable to bear the sight of his starving family,\nhe wandered out into the forest, until at last he met a strange-looking\nman in the old Frankish costume, who came up to him and said, 'You\nare poor indeed, and know no means of help.' 'Most true,' replied\nthe peasant; 'of money and good counsel I can use more than you can\nhave to bestow.' 'I will help you,' said the strange-looking man;\n'I will give you as much money as you can use while you live, and\nall you have to do for it will be to bear the Cold Torment for me\nafter you die; nothing but that, only just to feel rather too cold,\nand all that time hence--what does it matter?' The peasant retraced\nhis steps, and as he drew near home his children came out to meet him\nwith their pinafores full of gold, and all about the house there were\nheaps of gold, more than he could use; and he lived a merry life till\nthe time came for him to die. Then he remembered what was before him;\nso he called his wife to him, and got her to make him a whole suit of\nthe thickest rough woollen cloth, and stockings, hood, and gloves of\nthe same. In the night, before they had buried him, his boys saw him,\njust as the De profundis bell rang, get up from the bed in all this\nwarm clothing, and shut the gate behind him, and go out into the\nforest to deliver the spirit which had enriched him. [86]\n\nTo the north-east of this valley, and still on the left bank of the\nInn, is the favourite pilgrimage of Maria-Stein. I have not learnt\nits origin, but there is a tradition that, in 1587, Baron Schurff, to\nwhom the neighbouring Castle of Stein then belonged, being desirous\nto take the precious likeness of the Blessed Virgin honoured there\nto his Bavarian dwelling, thrice attempted the removal, and on each\noccasion it was found by the next morning restored to its original\nsanctuary, which is in a chapel at the top of a high tower. The castle\nwas a dependency of the Freundsbergers of Schwatz, till the family\ndied out. It was subsequently bestowed by the Archduke Sigismund\non one of his supporters, to whom he gave also the title of Baron\nSchurff. Afterwards it came into possession of Count Paris von Klotz,\nwho gave it to form a presbytery and school for which it is still\nused. Among its treasures was a Slave codex of Homilies of the early\nfathers; Count Klotz had a reprint made from it at Vienna. A little\nlake (Maria Steinersee) at no great distance affords excellent fish\ncalled Nasen, whence the neighbouring dale is called Nasenthal; and\nfrom several points there are most enjoyable views of the h\u00f6he Salve\nand the little towns of W\u00f6rgl, Kirchb\u00fchel, and H\u00e4ring across the river.\n\n\n\nJenbach affords also numerous mountain walks through the Achenthal:\na favourite one is over the Mauriz Alp, to Maurach, which has many\npoints of interest to the geologist. For those who are not fond of\npedestrianism, there is a splendid drive along the road--one of the\nold highways to Bavaria and the north of Europe. An accident is of very\nrare occurrence; but some parts of it are rather frightful. For those\nwhose nerves are proof against the fears suggested here and there,\nthere is immense enjoyment to be found, as it winds its way along\nthe romantic woody K\u00e4sbachthal, round--indeed through--the wild and\noverhanging rocks, or, supported on piles, runs close along the edge\nof the intensely blue Achen lake, under the over-arching Spiel-joch,\nsteep as a wall. The first place to halt at is Skolastica, where there\nis a pretty, much-frequented swimming-school; and whence even ladies\nhave ascended the Unnutzjoch over the K\u00f6gl. It is often crowded in the\nseason, as also are all the little towns round the lake--Achenthal,\nPertisau, Buchau. Several excellent varieties of fish, which are the\nproperty of the Monastery of Viecht, and the pleasure-fares across\nthe waters, afford means of subsistence to a little population of\nboatmen, who have made their nests on the rocks wherever there is\na foot of level ground. Pertisau, however, is on a green smiling\nspot, and is a relief to the majestic wildness of the rest of the\nsurrounding scenery. A very extraordinary effect may be observed at\na short distance out from Buchau. The mountain outline on the right\nhand appears to be that of a regular fortress, with all professional\naccessories, bidding defiance to the neighbourhood: it is only as\nthe boat approaches quite near, that you see it is only one of those\ntours de force with which nature often surprises us; as, for example,\nin the portrait of Louis XVI. in the outline of the Traunstein,\nseen from Baura.\n\nFrom the village of Achenthal the road runs, through the Bavarian\nfrontier, to the well-known baths and Bavarian royal Lustschloss--until\n1803 a Benedictine monastery--of Tegernsee, through Pass-Achen,\ncelebrated in the patriotic struggles of 1809.\n\nThe Achensee is the largest and one of the most beautiful lakes of\nTirol. It is fed partly by mountain streams, and partly by subterranean\nsprings. The people tell a warning tale of its first rising. They say\nthat in olden times there was a stately and prosperous town on what\nis now the bed of the lake; but the inhabitants in their prosperity\nforgot God so far, that the young lads played at skittles along the\naisles of the church, even while the sacred office was being sung,\nand the Word of God preached. A day came; it was a great feast, but\nthey drove their profane sport as usual, and no one said them nay;\n[87] and so a great flood rose up through the floor; rose above their\nheads; above the church roof; above the church steeple; and they say\nthat even now, on a bright calm day, you may see the gilt ball of the\nsteeple shining under the waters, and in the still moonshine you may\nhear the bell ring out the midnight hour. There are many other tales\nof such swift and righteous judgments lingering in Tirol.\n\nThe lower eastern ridge of the Harlesanger or Hornanger Alpe, is, on\naccount of its stern and barren character, called the Wildenfeld. This\nis how it received its name. Ages ago, it was a very paradise\nof beauty and fruitfulness. All the choicest Alpine grasses grew\nthere in abundance; but with these riches and plenty the pride of\nthe Senners and milkers waxed great too; and as a token of their\nreckless wastefulness, it is recorded that they used rich cheeses\nfor paving-stones and skittles. One ancient Senner, like another Lot,\nraised his feeble but indignant voice against them, but they heeded\nhim not. One day, as he mused over the sins of his people, a bright\nbird, with a plumage such as he had never seen before, fluttered\nround him, warbling, 'Righteous man, get thee hence! righteous man,\nget thee hence!' The old man saw the finger of God, and immediately\nfollowed the guiding flight of the bird to a place of safety, while\na great peak from the Harlesanger fell over the too prosperous Joch,\nburied its impious inhabitants, and spread desolation all around. There\nis now a pilgrimage chapel.\n\nAnother excursion, which must not be omitted, from Jenbach, is that\nto Eben, which lies a little off the high road, at some elevation,\nbut in the midst of a delightful table-land (hence its name) of\nmost fruitful character. As the burial-place of St. Nothburga, it is\nstill a spot of great resort. Unhappily, not all those buried here\nwere so holy as the peasant saint. A tradition is preserved of one\nwicked above others, though he seemed all fair to the outward eye,\nand the Church consequently admitted him to lie in holy ground. But he\nfelt the Eye of One above upon him, and he could not rest; and in his\nstruggles to withdraw himself from that all-searching gaze, he bored\nand bored on through the consecrated earth, till he had worked his way\nout into the common soil beyond. A horse-shoe, deeply graven in the\n'Friedhof' boundary, and which no one has ever been able to wall up,\nmarks the spot by which he passed; and the people call it the 'Escape\nof the Vampire.' [88]\n\nThe unpretending village of Stans, situated in the midst of a very\nforest of fruit-trees, at no great distance from Jenbach, is the\nbirth-place of Joseph Arnold, one of the religious artists, of whom\nTirol has produced so many. Without winning, of some it may be said\nwithout meriting perhaps, much fame for themselves in the world,\nwithout attaining the honour of founding a school, they have laboured\npainstakingly and successfully to adorn their village temples, and keep\nalive the faith and devotion of their countrymen. Almost where-ever\nyou go in Tirol you find praiseworthy copies of paintings, whose\ntitles are connected with the celebrated shrines of Italy, modestly\nreproduced by them, or some fervent attempt at an original rendering\nof a sacred subject, by men who never aspired that their names should\nreach beyond the echoes of their own beloved mountains. The prior of\nViecht, Eberhard Zobel, discovered the merits of Joseph Arnold and drew\nhim from obscurity, or rather from one degree of obscurity to another\nless profound, had him instructed according to the best means within\nhis attainment, and gave him occupation in the monastery. His homely\naspirations made him content with the sphere to which he was native,\nand he never went far from it. The altarpiece in the church of Stans,\nrepresenting St. Lawrence and St. Ulric, is his work and his gift.\n\nFrom Stans there is a path through the grand scenery of the\nStallenthal, leading to the shrine of St. Georgenberg. For a time\nthe pretty villages of the Innthal are lost to sight, and you pass\na country known only to the wild game, the hunter, and the pilgrim;\nthe bare rocky precipices relieved only here and there with woods,\nwhile the Stallen torrents run noisily below. Who could pass through\nsuch a neighbourhood and not think of the crowds of pilgrims who,\nthrough ages past, have approached the sacred spot in a spirit of faith\nand submission, bearing their sins and their sorrows, the burden of\ntheir afflictions, moral and physical, and have gone down to their\nhomes comforted?\n\nA wonderful shrine it is: a rock which might seem marked out 'from\nthe beginning' to be a shrine; shut out by Nature from earthly\ncommunication; piercing the very sky. You stand beneath it and long\nfor an eagle's wings to bear you aloft: there seems no other means\nof access. Then a weary winding path is shown you, up which, with\nmany sloping returns upon your former level, and crossing the roaring\nstream at a giddy height, you at last reach an Absatzbr\u00fccke--a bridge\nor viaduct--over the chasm, uniting the height you have been climbing,\nwith the cliff of S. George. It is a long bridge, and only made of\nwood; and you fancy it trembles beneath your anxious tread, as you\nspan the seemingly unfathomable abyss. A modest cross, which you cannot\nfail to observe at its head, records the marvellous preservation of a\ngirl of twenty-one, named Monica Ragel, a farm-servant, who one fine\nmorning in April 1831, in her zeal to gather the fairest flowers for\nthe wreath she was weaving for the Madonna's altar, attempted to climb\nthe treacherous steep, and losing her footing slipped down the cliff,\na distance of one hundred and forty feet. The neighbours crowded\nto the spot, with all the haste the dangerous footing would admit,\nand though they had no hope of finding her alive. She was so far\nuninjured, however, that she was able to resume work within the week.\n\nThe buildings found perched at this height cannot fail to convey a\nstriking impression; and this still more do the earnest penitents,\nwho may nearly always be found kneeling within. First, you come upon\nthe little chapel of the 'Schmerzhaften Mutter,' with a little garden\nof graves of those who have longed to lie in death as they dwelt in\nlife--near the shrine; among them is that of the Benedictine Magnus\nDagn, whose knowledge of music is referred to in the following simple\nepitaph, 'Magnus nomine, major arte, maximus virtute.' Opposite it is\nthe principal church, containing in one of its chapels one of those\nmost strange of relics, which here and there have come down to us with\ntheir legends from 'the ages of faith.' In the year 1310, when Rupert\nI. was the fourteenth abbot of St. Georgenberg, a priest of the order\n[89] was saying Mass in this very chapel. Just at the moment of the\nconsecration of the chalice a doubt started in his mind, whether\nit were possible that at his unworthy bidding so great a mystery\nshould be accomplished as the fulfillment of the high announcement,\n'This is My Blood.' In this condition of mind he concluded the words\nof consecration; and behold, immediately, in place of the white wine\nmingled with water in the chalice, he saw it fill with red blood,\noverflowing upon the corporal; some portion of this was preserved\nin a vial, set into a reliquary on the altar. Round the church are\nthe remains of the original monastery, in which the monks of Veicht\ngenerally leave some of their number to minister both to the spiritual\nand corporal needs of pilgrims.\n\nIt seems difficult to fix a date for the origin of this pilgrimage,\none of the most ancient of Tirol. There is a record that in 992\na chapel was consecrated here to our Lady of Sorrows, by Albuin,\nBishop of Brizen; but it was long before this [90] that Rathold, a\nyoung nobleman of Aiblingen in Bavaria, 'having learnt the hollowness\nof the joys his position promised him, made up his mind to forsake\nall, and live in the wilderness to God alone.' He wandered on,\nshunning the smooth and verdant plains of his native lands, and the\nsmiling fruitful amenities of the Innthal, till at last he found\nhimself surrounded by wild solitudes in the valley of the Stallen;\nplunging into its depths, his eye alighted on the almost inaccessible\nLampsenjock. Then choosing for his dwelling a peak, on which a few\nlimes had found a ledge and sown themselves, he cut a little cave\nfor his shelter in the rock beneath them, and there he lived and\nprayed. But after a time a desire came over him to visit the shrines\nof the mightiest saints; so he took up his pilgrim staff once more,\nand sped over the mountains and over the plains, till he had knelt at\nthe limine Apostolorum, and pressed his lips upon the soil, fragrant\nwith the martyr's blood. Nor was his zeal yet satisfied. There was\nanother Apostle the fame of whose shrine was great; and 'a year and a\nday' brought our pilgrim to S. Iago de Compostella. Then, having thus\ngraduated in the school of the saints, he came back to his solitude\nunder the lime-trees on the rock, to practise the lessons of Divine\ncontemplation he had thus imbibed in the perfume of the holy places.\n\nHe did not come back alone. From the great storehouse of Rome he\nhad brought a treasure of sacred art--a picture of the Madonna, for\nwhich his own hands wrought a little sanctuary. From far and near\npious people came to venerate the sacred image; and 'Unsere liebe\nFrau zur Linde,' was the watch-word, at the sound of which the sick\nand the oppressed revived with hope.\n\nOne day, it chanced that a young noble, whom ardent love of the chase\nhad led into this secluded valley, turned aside from following the wild\nchamois, to inquire what strange power fascinated the peasants into\nattempting yon steep ascent. Curious himself to see the wonder-working\nshrine, he scaled the peak, and found to his astonishment, in the\nmodest guardian of the picture, the elder brother who long ago had\n'chosen the better part.' In token of his joy at the meeting, he made\na vow to build on the spot a chapel, as well as a place of shelter\nfor the weary pilgrim. His undertaking was no sooner known than all\nthe people of the neighbouring valleys, nobles and peasants, applied\nto have their part in the work. Thus supported, it was begun in right\nearnest; but the workmen had no sooner got it fairly in hand than all\nthe blessing, which for so long had been poured out on the spot, seemed\nsuddenly to be quenched. Nothing would succeed, and every attempt\nwas baffled; and one thing, which was more particularly remarked,\nwas that the men were continually having accidents, and wounding\nthemselves with their tools. More strange still, every day two white\ndoves flew down from above, and carefully picking out every chip\nand shaving on which blood had fallen, gathered them in their beaks\nand flew away. Finding that no progress could be made with the work,\nand that this manoeuvre of the doves continued day by day, the pious\nReinhold resolved to follow them; and when he at last succeeded in\nfinding their hiding-place, there lay before him, neatly fashioned\nout of the chips which the doves had carried away, a tiny chapel of\nperfectly symmetrical form. [91] The hermit saw in the affair the\nguiding hand of God, demanding of him the sacrifice of seven years'\nattachment to his cell; and cheerfully yielding obedience to the token,\nrequested his brother that the chapel should be erected on the spot\nthus pointed out. Theobald willingly complied, and dedicated it to\nthe patron of chivalry, St. George. The fame of Reinhold's piety, and\nof his wonderful chapel, was bruited far and near; and now, not all\nwho came to visit him went back to their homes. Many youths of high\ndegree, fired by the example of the hermit sprung out of their order,\napplied to join him in his life of austerity; and soon a whole colony\nhad established itself, Camaldolese-fashion, in little huts round\nhis. There seems to have been no lack of zealous followers to sustain\nthe odour of sanctity of St. Georgenberg; early in the twelfth century,\nthe Bishop of Brixen put them under the rule of S. Benedict, to whose\nmonks Tirol, and especially Unterinnthal, already owed so great a debt\nof gratitude, for keeping alive the faith. His followers endowed it\nwith much of the surrounding land, which the brothers, by hard manual\nlabour, brought into cultivation. They were overtaken by many heavy\ntrials in the course of centuries: at one time it was a fire, driven\nby the fierce winds, which ravaged their homestead; at another time,\navalanches annihilated the traces of their industry. At last, the\nspirit of prudence prevailing on their earlier energetic hardiness,\nit was resolved to remove the monastery to Viecht, where the brothers\nalready had a nucleus in a little hospital for the sick among them,\nand where also was the dep\u00f4t for their cattle-dealing--a Viehzuchthof,\n[92] whence by corruption it derived its name.\n\nThe execution of this idea was commenced in 1705. The abbot, Celestin\nB\u00f6hmen, a native of Vienna, had formerly held a grade of officer in\nthe Austrian artillery. Nothing could exceed the zeal with which\nhe took the matter in hand; and plans were laid out for raising\nthe building on the most extensive and costly scale. So grand an\nedifice required large funds; and these were not slow to flow in,\nfor St. Georgenberg was beloved by all the country round. When he\nsaw the vast sums in his hand, however, the old spirit of the world,\nand its covetousness, crept over him again, and a morning came when,\nto the astonishment of the brotherhood, the abbot was nowhere to be\nfound--nor the gold! The progress of the work was effectually arrested\nfor the moment; but zeal overcame even the obstacle presented by\nthis loss, and by 1750 Abbot Lambert had brought to completion the\npresent edifice, in late Renaissance style, which, though imposing\nand substantial, forms but one wing of Celestin B\u00f6hmen's plan.\n\nIf the spirit of the world came over Abbot Celestin in the cloister,\nthe spirit of the cloister came back upon him in the world; and it\nwas not many years before he came back, full of shame and contrition,\nmaking open confession of his fault, and placing himself entirely in\nthe hands of his former subjects. Though at this time the monks were\nyet in the midst of their anxieties for the means for carrying on the\nwork, they suffered themselves to be ruled by a spirit of Christian\ncharity, and refused to give him up to the rigour of the law; and he\nended his days with edifying piety at Anras, in the Pusterthal.\n\nA great festival was kept at Viecht, in 1845, in memory of the\nconsecration, which was attended by sixty thousand persons, from\nBavaria as well as Tirol.\n\nThe library contains an interesting collection of MSS. and early\nprinted books in many languages, and is particularly rich in works\nillustrative of Tirolean history. In the church are some of Nissl\nthe elder's wood-carvings, which are always worth attention. The\nconfessionals are adorned with figures of celebrated penitents,\nby his hand; and other noteworthy works will be found in a series of\nnine tableaux, showing forth the Passion; also the crucifix over the\nhigh altar, and four life-sized carvings. In all these he was assisted\nby his pupils, Franz Thaler, of Jenbach, who afterwards came to have\nthe charge of the Vienna cabinet of antiquities, and Antony H\u00fcber, the\nmost successful of his school. Perhaps the finest specimen of all is a\ndead Christ, under the altar, remarkable for the anatomical knowledge\ndisplayed. Like many another mountain sanctuary isolated and exposed\nto the wind, this monastery has more than once been ravaged by fire;\nin 1868 it was in great part burnt down, and the church-building zeal\nof Tirol is still being exercised with great energy and open-handedness\nin building it up again. A festival was held there in October 1870,\nwhen five bells from the foundry of Grassmayr of Wilten were set up\nto command the echoes of the neighbourhood; great pains are now being\ntaken to make the building fireproof.\n\n\n\nClose opposite Viecht lies Schwatz; [93] a number of straggling houses,\ncalled 'die lange Gasse,' on the Viecht side belong to it also; between\nthem there is a bridge, which we will not cross now, but continue a\nlittle further along the left bank; this, though less rich in smiling\npastures than the right, has many points of interest. The next village\nto Viecht is Vomp, situated at the entrance of the Vomperthal, the\nsternest and most barren in scenery or settlements of any valley\nof Tirol, and characterized by a hardy pedestrian as 'frightfully\nsolitary, and difficult of access: even the boldest J\u00e4gers,' he adds,\n'seldom pursue their game into it.' The village church of Vomp once\npossessed a priceless work of Albert D\u00fcrer, an 'Ancona,' showing forth\nin its various compartments the history of the Passion; but it was\ndestroyed in 1809, when the French, under Deroi, set fire to the church\nin revenge for the havoc the Tirolean sharp-shooters had committed\namong their ranks. Joseph Arnold (in 1814) did his best to repair the\nloss, by painting another altar-piece, in which we see a less painful\nthan the usual treatment of the martyrdom of St. Sebastian: the artist\nhas chosen the moment at which the young warrior is being bound to\nthe tree where he is to suffer so bravely. Above the village stands\nthe once splendid castle of Sigmundslust, one of the hunting-seats\nof Sigismund the Monied (der M\u00fcnzreiche), [94] now the villa of a\nprivate family of Innsbruck, Riccabona by name. Vomp is also the\nbirth-place of Joseph Hell, the wood-carver.\n\nCrossing the Vomperbach, and the fertile plain it waters, you\nreach Terfens, which earned some renown in the wars of 'the year\nnine.' Outside the village is a little pilgrimage chapel, called\nMaria-Larch, honoured in memory of a mysterious image of the blessed\nVirgin, found under a larch fir on the spot, similar to the legend\nof that at Waldrast. [95]\n\nPassing the ruin of Volandseck, the still inhabited castle of Thierberg\n(the third of the name we have passed since we entered Tirol) and\nthe village of S. Michael, you come to S. Martin, the parish church\nof which owes its endowment to a hermit of modern times. There was in\nthe village a convent, deserted, because partly destroyed by fire. In\n1638, George Thaler, of Kitzb\u00fchel, a man of some means and position,\ncame to live here a life of sanctity: he devoted six hours a-day to\nprayer, six to sleep, and the rest to manual labour. He maintained a\nchaplain, and an old servant who waited on him for fifty years. At his\ndeath, he left all he possessed to supply the spiritual needs of the\nhamlet. After leaving S. Martin's, the scenery grows more pleasing:\nyou enter the Gnadenwald, so called, because its first inhabitants\nwere servants of the earlier princes of Tirol, who pensioned them off\nwith holdings of the surrounding territory. It occupies the lowland\nbordering the river, which here widens a little, and affords in its\nrecesses a number of the most romantic strolls. Embowered on its\nborder, near the river, stands the village of Baumkirchen, with its\noutlying offshoot of Fritzens now surpassing it in importance, as it\nhas been chosen for the railway-station. The advance of the iron road\nhas not stamped out the native love for putting prominently forward the\nexternal symbols of religion. I one day saw a countryman alight here\nfrom the railway, who had been but to Innsbruck to purchase a large\nand handsome metal cross, to be set up in some prominent point of the\nvillage and it was considered a sufficiently important occasion for\nseveral neighbours to go out to meet him on his return with it. Again,\non the newer houses, probably called into existence by the increased\ntraffic, the old custom of adorning the exterior with frescoes of\nsacred subjects is well kept up. This is indeed the case on many other\nparts of the line; but at Fritzens, I was particularly struck with\none of unusual merit, both in its execution and its adaptation to the\ndomestic scene it was to sanctify. I would call the attention of any\ntraveller, who has time to stop at Fritzens to see it: the treatment\nsuggests that I should give it the title of 'the Holy Family at home,'\nso completely has the artist realized the lowly life of the earthly\nparents of the Saviour, and may it not be a comfort to the peasant\nartizan to see before his eyes the very picture of his daily toil\nsanctified in its exercise by the hands of Him he so specially reveres?\n\nAn analogous incident, which I observed on another occasion, comes\nback to my memory: it happened, I think, one day at Jenbach. The\ntrain stopped to set down a Sister of Charity, who had come to nurse\nsome sick person in the village. The ticket-collector, who was also\npointsman, was so much occupied with his deferential bowing to her\nas he took her ticket, that he had to rush to his points 'like mad,'\nor his reverent feelings might have had serious consequences for the\ntrain! So religious indeed is your whole entourage while in Tirol,\nthat I have remarked when travelling through just this part in the\nwinter season, that the very masses of frozen water, arrested by\nthe frost as they rush down the railway cuttings and embankments,\nassumed in the half-light such forms as Dor\u00e9 might give to prostrate\nspectres doing penance. The foot-path on to Hall leads through a\ncontinuance of the same diversified and well-wooded scenery we have\nbeen traversing hitherto; but if time presses, it is well to take the\nrailway for this stage, and make Hall or Innsbruck a starting-point\nfor visiting the intervening places.\n\nHall is the busiest and most business-like place we have come to yet,\nand the first whose smoky atmosphere reminds us of home. There is not\nmuch to choose between its two inns the 'Schwarzer B\u00e4r' and the\n'Schwarzer Adler.' The industry and the smoke of Hall arises from the\nsalt-works, from which Weber also derives its name (from halos, salt;\nthough why it should have been derived from the Greek he does not\nexplain). The first effect which strikes you on arriving, after the\nsmokiness, is the sky-line of its bizarrely-picturesque steeples,\namong the most bizarre of which is the M\u00fcnzthurm (the mint-tower),\nfirst raised to turn into money the over-flowing silver stores of\nSigismund the Monied; and last used to coin the Sandwirthszw\u00e4nziger,\nthe pieces of honest old Hofer's brief but triumphant dictatorship. The\ntown has in course of time suffered severely from various calamities:\nfire, war, pestilence, inundation, and, on one occasion, in 1670,\neven from earthquake; the church tower was so severely shaken, that the\nwatchman on its parapet was thrown to the ground; the people fled from\ntheir houses into the fields, where the Jesuit fathers stood addressing\nthem, in preparation for their last end, which seemed imminent. Loss\nof life was, however, small; nevertheless, the Offices of the Church\nwere for a long time held in the open air. Notwithstanding all these\nreverses, the trade in salt, and the advantageous municipal rights\ngranted them in earlier times, have always enabled the people to\nrecover and maintain their prosperity. In the various wars, they have\nborne their part with signal honour. One of their greatest feats,\nperhaps, occurred on May 29, 1809. Speckbacher had led his men to a\ngallant attack on the Bavarians at Volders, blowing up the bridge\nbehind him, and then marched to the relief of Hall; the Bavarians\nwere in possession of the town and bridge, and as they had several\npieces of artillery, it was not easy for the patriots to carry it;\nnevertheless, as their ammunition was failing, and Speckbacher having\nrefused to agree to a truce, because he saw the advantage accruing to\nhim through this deficiency, they destroyed the Hall bridge, as they\nthought, and retreated homewards under cover of the night. Speckbacher\ndiscovered their flight early in the morning, and lost no time in\naddressing his men on the importance of at once taking possession of\ntheir native town: the men were as usual at one with him, and not\none shrank from the perilous enterprise of regaining the left bank\nby such means as the tottering remains of the bridge afforded!\n\nJoseph Speckbacher, who shares with Andreas Hofer the glories of\n'the year nine,' was a native of Rinn, a village on the opposite\nbank; but he is honoured with a grave in the Pfarrkirche, at Hall,\nbearing the following inscription, with the date of his death, 1820:\n\n\n    Im Kampfe wild, doch menschlich;\n    In Frieden still und den Gesetzen treu;\n    War er als Krieger, Unterthan und Mensch,\n    Der Ehre wie der Liebe werth. [96]\n\n\nAnother object of interest, in the same churchyard, is a wooden\ncrucifix, carved by Joseph Stocker in 1691; as well as the monuments of\nthe Fiegers, and other high families of the middle ages. In the church\nitself is a 'Salvator Mundi' of Albert D\u00fcrer, on panel; the altarpiece\nof the high altar is by Erasmus Quillinus, a pupil of Rubens. One of\nthe chapels, the Waldaufische Kapelle, was built in 1493-5, by one\nFlorian von Waldauf, to whom an eventful history attaches. He was a\npeasant boy, whom his father's severity drove away from home: for a\nlong time he maintained himself by tending herds; after that he went\nfor a soldier in the Imperial army, where his talents brought him under\nthe special notice of the Emperor Frederick, and his son Maximilian I.,\nwho took him into their councils and companionship. Maximilian made\nhim knight of Waldenstein, and gifted him with lands and revenues. His\nlove of adventure took him into many countries. On one journey, being\nin a storm at sea, the memory of his early wilfulness overcame him,\nand he vowed that if he came safe to land, he would build a chapel in\nhis Tirolean home. He subsequently fixed on the Pfarrkirche of Hall,\nas that in which to fulfil his vow, being the parish church of the\ncastle of Rettenberg which Maximilian had bestowed on him, and enriched\nit with a wondrous store of relics, which he had collected in his\njourneyings. Above 40,000 pilgrims flocked from every part of Tirol,\nto assist at the consecration; and a goodly sight it must have been,\nwhen singing and bearing the relics aloft, they streamed down the\nmountain side and across the river, the last of the procession not\nhaving yet left the gates of Castle Rettenberg, while the foremost\nhad already reached the chapel.\n\nThere are other churches in Hall; where that of S. Saviour now stands\nwas once a group of crazy cottages; but one day, in the year 1406,\nin one of them a poor man lay dying, and the priest bore him the\nholy Viaticum, which knows no distinction between the palace and the\nhovel: the furniture was as rickety as the tenements themselves; the\nonly table, on which the priest had deposited the sacred vessels,\npropped against the wall for support, gave way by some accident,\nand the Santissimo was thrown upon the floor. Johann von Kripp, a\nwealthy burgher, hearing of what had befallen, bought the cottages,\nand in reparation for the desecration, built a church on the spot,\nwith the dedication, zum Erl\u00f6ser.\n\nThe town is well provided with educational and charitable institutions;\nthe latter comprising a mad-house worth seeing, under Professor\nKaplan, and a deaf and dumb school. The Franciscan monastery is,\nI think, the only unsuppressed religious house. In the Rathhaus is\npreserved a quaint old picture, representing the Emperor Sigismund,\nin hunting costume, coming to ask the assistance of the men of Hall\nagainst a conspiracy he had discovered in Innsbruck, assistance which\nloyal Hall was not slow to supply. Its situation made it a place of\nsome importance to the defences of the country; and the regulations\nfor calling the inhabitants under arms were very complete, so that\nthis service was promptly rendered.\n\nAn amusing story is told in evidence of the ready gallantry of the men\nof Hall. There was a time when Hall was at feud with the neighbouring\nvillage of Taur: the watchman, stationed on the tower by night-time,\nrang the alarm, and announced that the enemy was advancing with\nlanterns in their hands; at the call to arms, every man jumped from\nhis bed, and seized his weapon, eager to display his prowess against\nthe foe. Prudent Salzmair [97] Zott, anxious to spare the shedding\nof neighbours' blood, hastily donned a shirt of mail over his more\npenetrable night-gear, and proposed to ride out alone with a flag\nof truce, to know what meant the unseasonable attack. The warlike\nburghers with difficulty yielded to his representations, and not\nhaving the consolations of the fragrant weed wherewith to wile away\ntheir time, set to sharpening their swords and axes, and outvieing\neach other with many a fierce boast during his absence.\n\nMeantime, Salzmair Zott proceeded on his way without meeting the ghost\nof a foe, or one ray from their lanterns, till he came to Taur itself,\nwhere everything lay buried in peaceful silence. Only as he came back\nhe discovered what had given rise to the alarm: it was midsummer-tide,\nand a swarm of little worms of St. John [98] was soaring and fluttering\nover the fields like a troop provided with lanterns. So with a hearty\nlaugh he despatched the townsmen, ready for the fight, back to their\nbeds. And even now this humorous imitation of the Bauernkrieg [99]\nis a by-word for Quixotic enterprises.\n\nOf all the numerous excursions round Hall, the strangest and\nmost interesting is that to Salzberg, the source of the salt, the\ncrystallizing of which and despatching it all over Tirol, to Engadein\nand to Austria, forms the staple industry of Hall. It is a journey\nof about three hours, though not much over eight miles, but rugged\nand steep, and in some parts rather frightful, particularly in the\nreturning descent, for the Salzberg lies 6,300 feet above the sea:\nbut there is a road for an einspanner all the way; entrance is readily\nobtained, and the gratuities for guide, lighting up, and boat over\nthe subterranean salt lake, exceedingly moderate. There are records\nextant which shew that there were salt-works in operation in the\nneighbourhood of Hall early in the eighth century, but these would\nappear to have been fed by a salt spring which flowed at the foot\nof the mountain. In the year 1275, however, Niklas von Rohrbach,\nwho seems to be always styled der fromme Ritter (the pious knight),\nfrequently when on his hunting expeditions in the Hallthal, observed\nhow the cattle and wild game loved to lick certain cliffs of the\nvalley; this led him to test the flavour, and finding it rich in salt,\nhe followed up the track till he came to the Salzberg itself, where he\nprudently conjectured there was an endless supply to be obtained. [100]\nEver since this time the salt has been worked pretty much in the same\nway, namely, by hewing, later by blasting, vast chambers in the rock,\nwhich are then filled with water and closed up: at the end of some\nten or twelve months, when the water is supposed to be thoroughly\nimpregnated, it is run off through a series of conduits to Hall,\nwhere it is evaporated, a hundred pounds of brine yielding about a\nthird the weight of salt. A considerable number of these chambers,\nan acre or two in extent, have been excavated in the course of time,\nand you are told that it would take more than a week to walk through\nall the passages connecting them. 'Cars filled with rubbish pass you as\nyou thread them,' says an observant writer, 'with frightful rapidity;\nyou step aside into a niche, and the young miners seated in the front\nlook like gnomes directing infernal chariots. The crystallizations\nin some of these chambers lighted up by the torches of a party of\nvisitors have a magical effect, and recall the gilded fret-work of\nsome Moorish palaces. There is a tradition that Hofer and Speckbacher,\nwho never, before their illustrious campaigns, had wandered so far as\nthese few miles from their respective homes, took advantage of the lull\nsucceeding their first triumph at Berg Isel, to come over and visit the\nstrange labyrinths of the Salzberg. It is hardly possible to exaggerate\nthe effect which such a scene might produce on minds so imaginative,\nand at the same time so unsophisticated. It is not difficult to believe\nthat they regarded such a journey like a visit to the abode of the\ndeparted great, or that in presence of the oppressive grandeurs of\nnature they should have matured their spirit for the defence of their\ncountry which was to confound the strategy of practised generals.\n\nReturning through the dark forests of pine and the steep cliffs of\nthe Hallthal, otherwise called the Salzthal, you are arrested by the\nhamlet of Absam, which in your hurry to push forward you overlooked\nin the morning. Before reaching it you observe to the east, on an\neminence rising out of the plain, Schloss Melans, now serving as a\nvilla to a family of Innsbruck. The peasants have a curious story\nto account for the rudely sculptured dragons which adorn some of the\neave-boards of their houses, though no singular mode of ornamentation,\nand by others accounted for differently. [101] They say that in olden\ntime there was a wonderful old hen which laid her first egg when seven\nyears old, and when the egg was hatched a dragon crept out of it,\n[102] which made itself a home in the neighbouring moor, and the\npeople in memory of the prodigy carved its likeness on their houses.\n\nIn Absam itself once lived a noble family of the name of Spaur,\nwhich had a toad for a bearing on their shield, accounted for in\nthe following way:--'A certain Count Spaur had committed a crime\nby which he had incurred the penalty of death; his kinsmen having\nput every means in motion to get the sentence remitted, his pardon\nwas at last accorded them on the condition that he should ride to\nBabylon the Accursed, and bring home with him a monstrous toad which\ninfested the tower. So the knight rode forth to Babylon the Accursed,\nand when he drew near the tower the monstrous toad came out and seized\nthe bridle of the knight's horse; the knight, nothing daunted at the\nhorrid apparition, lifted his good sword and hewed the monster to\nthe ground, bringing the corpse back with him as a trophy.'\n\nWhat audacious tales! Could anyone out of a dream put such ideas\ntogether? No writer of fiction, none but one who believed them possible\nof accomplishment! 'Who can tell what gives to these simple old stories\ntheir irresistible witchery?' says Max M\u00fcller. 'There is no plot to\nexcite our curiosity, no gorgeous description to dazzle our eyes,\nno anatomy of human passion to rivet our attention. They are short\nand quaint, full of downright absurdities and sorry jokes. We know\nfrom the beginning how they will end. And yet we sit and read and\nalmost cry, and we certainly chuckle, and are very sorry when\n\n\n    Snip, snip, snout,\n    This tale's told out.\n\n\nDo they remind us of a distant home--of a happy childhood? Do they\nrecall fantastic dreams long vanished from our horizon, hopes that\nhave set never to rise again?... Nor is it dreamland altogether. There\nis a kind of real life in these tales--life such as a child believes\nin--a life where good is always rewarded; wrong always punished; where\neveryone, not excepting the devil, gets his due; where all is possible\nthat we truly want, and nothing seems so wonderful that it might\nnot happen to-morrow. We may smile at those dreams of inexhaustible\npossibility, but in one sense the child's world is a real world too.'\n\n\n\nA singular event, or curious popular fancy, obtained for Absam\nthe honour of becoming a place of pilgrimage at the end of the last\ncentury. It was on January 17, 1797; a peasant's daughter was looking\nidly out of window along the way her father would come home from\nthe field; suddenly, in the firelight playing on one of the panes,\nshe discerned a well-defined image of the Blessed Virgin, 'as plain\nas ever she had seen a painting.' Of course the neighbours flocked\nin to see the sight, and from them the news of the wonderful image\nspread through all the country round; at last it made so much noise,\nthat the Dean of Innsbruck resolved to investigate the matter. A\ncommission was appointed for this object, among their number being\ntwo professors of chemistry, and the painter, Joseph Sch\u00f6pf. Their\nverdict was that the image had originally been painted on the glass;\nthat the colours, faded by time, had been restored to the extent then\napparent by the action of the particular atmosphere to which they had\nbeen exposed. The people could not appreciate their arguments, nor\nrealize that any natural means could have produced so extraordinary\na result. For them, it was a miraculous image still, and accordingly\nthey put their faith in it as such; nor was their faith without\nits fruit. It was a season of terrible trouble, a pestilence was\nraging both among men and beasts; General Joubert had penetrated as\nfar into the interior as Sterzing; everyone felt the impotence of\n'the arm of flesh' in presence of such dire calamities. The image\non the peasant's humble window-pane seemed to have come as a token\nof heavenly favour; nothing would satisfy them but that it should be\nplaced on one of the altars of the church, and the 'Gnadenmutter [103]\nvon Absam' drew all the fearful and sorrowing to put their trust in\nHeaven alone. Suddenly after this the enemy withdrew his troops, the\npestilence ceased its havoc, and more firmly than ever the villagers\nbelieved in the supernatural nature of the image on the window-pane.\n\nAbsam has another claim to eminence in its famous violin-maker, Jacob\nStainer, born in 1649. He learnt his art in Venice and Cremona, and\ncarried it to such perfection, that his instruments fetched as high\nprices as those made in Cremona itself. Archduke Ferdinand Karl,\nLandesf\u00fcrst of Tirol, attached him to his court. Stainer was so\nparticular about the wood he used, that he always went over to the\nGletscher forest clearings to select it, being guided in the choice by\nthe sound it returned when he struck it with a hammer. Towards the end\nof his life the excitement of the love of his calling overpowered his\nstrength of mind, and the treatment of insanity not being then brought\nto perfection at Absam, one has yet to go through the melancholy\nexhibition of the stout oaken bench to which he had to be strapped\nor chained when violent. [104]\n\nMils affords the object of another pleasant excursion from Hall,\nreached through the North, or so called Mils, gate, in an easy\nhalf-hour; around it are the old castles of Gr\u00fcnegg and Schneeburg,\nthe former a hunting-seat of Ferdinand II., now in ruins; the latter\nwell-preserved by the present noble family of the name. Those who have\na mind to enjoy a longer walk, may hence also find a way into the\npeaceful shady haunts of the Gnadenwald. Some two hundred years ago\nthere lived about half way between Hall and Mils a bell-founder, who\nenjoyed the reputation of being a very worthy upright man, as well as\none given to unfeigned hospitality; so that not only the weather-bound\ntraveller, but every wayfarer who loved an hour's pleasant chat,\nknocked, as he passed by, at the door of the Glockenhof. Among all the\nvisitors who thus sat at his board, none were so jovial as a party of\nwild fellows, whose business he was never well able to make out. They\nalways brought their own meat and drink with them, and it was always of\nthe best; and money seemed to them a matter of no account, so abundant\nwas it. At last he ventured one day to inquire whence they acquired\ntheir seemingly boundless wealth. 'Nothing easier, and you may be as\nrich as we, if you will!' was the answer; and then they detailed their\nexploits, which proved them knights of the road. Opportunity makes the\nthief. The proverb was realized to the letter; the Glockengiesser had\nbeen honest hitherto, because he had never been tempted before; now\nthe glittering prize was exposed to him, he knew not how to resist. His\ncharacter for hospitality made the Glockenhof serve as a very trap. The\nfacility increased his greed, and his cellars were filled with spoil\nand with the skeletons of the spoiled. Travellers thus disappeared\nso frequently that consternation was raised again and again, but\nwho could ever suspect the worthy hearty Glockengiesser! Though\nthe new trade throve so well, there was one quality necessary to\nits success in which the Glockengiesser was wanting, and that was\ncaution. Just as if there had been nothing to hide, he let a party\nof sewing-women come one day from the village to set his household\ngoods in order; and when they retired to rest at night, one of them,\nwho could not sleep in a strange house, heard the master and his gang\ncounting their money in the cellar. Astonished, she crept nearer,\nand over-heard their talk. 'We should not have killed that fellow,'\nsaid one; 'he wasn't worth powder and shot.' 'Pooh!' replied another,\n'you can't expect to have good luck out of every murder. Why, how often\na cattle-dealer kills a beast and doesn't turn a penny out of it.' The\nseamstress did not want to hear any more; she laid her charge at the\ntown-hall of Hall next morning; the officers of justice arrested the\nbell-founder and his associates, and ample proofs of their guilt were\nfound on the premises. Sentenced to death, in the solitude of his cell,\nhe yielded to the full force of the reproaches of his conscience;\nhe made no defence, but hailed his execution as a satisfaction of\nwhich his penitent soul acknowledged the justice. However, he craved\ntwo favours before his end; the one, to be allowed to go home and\nfound a bell for the lieb' Frau Kirche in Mils; the second, that this\nbell might be sounded for the first time at his execution, which by\nlocal custom must be on a Friday evening at nine o'clock. [105] Both\nrequests were granted, and his bell continued to serve the church of\nMils till the fire of August 1791.\n\nAnother walk from Hall is the Loreto-Kirche, intended as an exact\ncopy of 'the Holy House,' by Archduke Ferdinand and his wife, the\npious Anna Katharina of Gonzaga, who endowed it with a foundation\nfor perpetual Masses for the repose of the souls of the reigning\nHouse of Austria; it was at one time a much visited pilgrimage, so\nthat though it had three chaplains attached to it, monks from Hall\nhad often to be sent for to supplement their ministrations. Ferdinand\nand Anna often made the pilgrimage on foot from Innsbruck, saying the\n'stations' as they went, at certain little chapels which marked them\nby the way, and of which remains are still standing. It would be an\ninteresting spot to trace out: I regret that we neglected to do so,\nand I do not know whether it is now well kept up.\n\nStarting again by the North gate of Hall, and taking the way which\nruns in the opposite direction from that leading to Mils, you come,\nafter half an hour's walk through the pleasant meadows, to Heiligen\nKreuz; its name was originally Gumpass, but it had its present name\nfrom the circumstance of a cross having been carried down stream by the\nInn, and recovered from its waters by some peasants from this place,\nby whom it was set up here. So great is the popular veneration for\nany even apparent act of homage of Nature to 'Nature's God,' that\ngreat crowds congregated to see the cross which had been brought\nto them by the river; and it was found necessary in the seventeenth\ncentury to erect the spot into a distinct parish. Heiligen Kreuz is\nmuch resorted to for its sulphur baths, also by people from Hall as\na pleasing change from their smoky town, on holidays.\n\nStriking out towards the mountains, another half-hour brings you\nto Taur, a charming little village, standing in the shelter of the\nTaureralpe. Almost close above it is the Th\u00fcrl, a peak covered to\na considerable height with rich pasture; at its summit, a height of\n6,546 ft., is a wooden pyramid recording that it was climbed by the\nEmperor Francis I., and called the Kaisers\u00e4ule. There are many legends\nof S. Romedius connected with Taur, one of which is worth citing, in\nillustration of the confidence of the age which conceived or adapted\nit, in the efficacy of faith and obedience. S. Romedius was a rich\nBavarian, who in the fourth century owned considerable property in\nthe Innthal, including Taur. On his return from a pilgrimage to Rome,\nhe put himself at the disposal of S. Vigilius, the apostle of South\nTirol, who despatched him to the conversion of the Nonsthal, where\nhe lived and died in the odour of sanctity. He was not unmindful of\nhis own Taur, but frequently visited it to pour out his spiritual\nbenedictions. He was once there on such a visit, when he received\na call from S. Vigilius. Regardless of his age and infirmities,\nhe immediately prepared for the journey over the mountains to\nTrent. His nag, old and worn out like his master, he had left to\ngraze on the pastures at the foot of the Taureralpe, so he called\nhis disciple David, and bid him bring him in and saddle him. Great\nwas the consternation of the disciple on making the discovery that\nthe horse had been devoured by a bear. Saddened and cast down, he\ncame to his master with the news. Nothing daunted, S. Romedius bid\nhim go back and saddle the bear in its stead. The neophyte durst not\ngainsay his master, but went out trusting in his word; the bear meekly\nsubmitted to the bidding of the holy man, who bestrode him, and rode\non this singular mount into Trent. It is only a fitting sequel that\nthe legend adds, that at his approach all the bells of Trent rang\nout a gladsome peal of welcome, without being moved by human hands.\n\nThe lords of Taur gave the name to the place by setting up their\ncastle on the ruins of an old Roman tower (turris; altromanisch,\ntour). S. Romedius is not the only hero from among them; the chronicles\nof their race are full of the most romantic achievements; perhaps not\nthe least of these was the construction of the fortress, the rambling\nruins of which still attest its former greatness. Overhanging the bank\nof the Wildbach is the chapel of S. Romedius, inhabited by a hermit\nas lately as the seventeenth century, though the country-people are\napt to confuse him with S. Romedius himself! [106] One dark night,\nas he was watching in prayer, he heard the sound of tapping against\nhis cell window. Used to the exercise of hospitality, he immediately\nopened to the presumed wayfarer: great was his astonishment to see\nstanding before him the spirit of the lately deceased parish priest,\nwho had been his very good friend. 'Have compassion on me, Frater\nJoshue!' he exclaimed; 'for when in the flesh I forgot to say three\nMasses, for which the stipend had been duly provided and received by\nme, and now my penance is fearful;' as he spoke he laid his hand upon\na wooden tile of the hermit's lowly porch, who afterwards found that\nthe impression of his burning hand was branded into the wood. 'Now do\nyou, my friend, say these Masses in my stead; pray and fast for me,\nand help me through this dreadful pain.' The hermit promised all he\nwished, and kept his promise; and when a year and a day had passed,\nthe spirit tapped again at the window, and told him he had gained his\nrelease. The tile, with the brand-mark on it, may be seen hanging in\nthe chapel, with an inscription under it attesting the above facts,\nand bearing date 7th February, 1660. [107]\n\nAt a very short distance further is another interesting little\nvillage, Rum by name. It is situated close under the mountains, the\nsoil of which is very friable. A terrible landslip occurred in 1770;\nthe noise was heard as far as Innsbruck, where it was attributed to\nan earthquake. Whole fields were covered with the d\u00e9bris, some of\nwhich were said to be carried to a distance of a mile and a half;\nthe village just escaped destruction, only an outlying smithy, which\nwas buried, showed how near the danger had come. If time presses,\nthis excursion may be combined with the last, and the Loreto-Kirche\ntaken on the way back to Hall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL (RIGHT INN-BANK).\n\nSCHWATZ.\n\n\n                The world is full of poetry unwrit;\n                Dew-woven nets that virgin hearts enthrall,\n                Darts of glad thought through infant brains that flit,\n                Hope and pursuit, loved bounds and fancies free--\n                Poor were our earth of these bereft....\n\n                                                         Aubrey de Vere.\n\n\nIt is time now to return to speak of Schwatz, of which we caught a\nglimpse across the river as we left Viecht; [108] and it is one of\nthe most interesting towns, and centres of excursions, in Tirol. It\nwas a morning of bright promise which first brought us there by the\nearly hour of 8.15. To achieve this we had had to rise betimes; it\nwas near the end of August, when the mid-day sun is overpowering;\nyet the early mornings were very cool, and the brisk breezes came\ncharged with a memory of snow from the beautiful chains of mountains\nwhose base we were hugging. The railway station, as if it dared not\nwith its modern innovation invade the rural retreat of primitive\ninstitutions, was at a considerable distance from the village, and\nwe had a walk of some fifteen or twenty minutes before we came within\nreach of even a chance of breakfast.\n\nMy own strong desire to be brought quite within the influence of\nTirolean traditions perhaps deadened my sensations of hunger and\nweariness, but it was not so with all of our party; and it was with\nsome dismay we began to apprehend that the research of the primitive\nis not to be made without some serious sacrifice of 'le comfortable.'\n\nOur walk across the fields at last brought us to the rapid smiling\nriver; and crowning the bridge, stood as usual S. John Nepomuk, his\npatient martyr's face gazing on the effigy of the crucified Saviour\nhe is always portrayed as bearing so lovingly, seeming so sweetly\nall-enduring, that no light feeling of discontent could pass him\nunrestrained. Still the call for breakfast is an urgent one with\nthe early traveller, and there seemed small chance of appeasing\nit. Near the station indeed had stood a deserted building, with\nthe word 'Restauration' just traceable on its mouldy walls, but we\nhad felt no inclination to try our luck within them; and though we\nhad now reached the village, we seemed no nearer a more appetising\nsupply. No one had got out of the train besides ourselves; not a soul\nappeared by the way. A large house stood prominently on our right,\nwhich for a moment raised our hopes, but its too close proximity\nto a little church forbad us to expect it to be a hostelry, and a\nscout of our party brought the intelligence that it was a hospital;\nanother building further on, on the left, gave promise again, because\npainted all over with frescoes, which might be the mode in Schwatz\nof displaying a hotel-sign; but no, it proved to be a forge, and like\nthe lintels marked by Morgiana's chalk, all the houses of Schwatz--as\nindeed most of the houses of Tirol--were found to be covered with\nsacred frescoes. At last a veritable inn appeared, and right glad\nwe were to enter its lowly portal and find rest, even though the air\nwas scented by the mouldering furniture and neighbouring cattle-shed;\nthough the stiff upright worm-eaten chairs made a discordant grating\non the tiled floor, and a mildewed canvas, intended to keep out flies,\ncompleted the gloom which the smallness of the single window began.\n\nA repeated knocking at last brought a buxom maid out of the\ncow-shed, who seemed not a little amazed at our apparition. 'Had\nshe any coffee! coffee, at that time of day--of course not!' True,\nthe unpunctuality of the train, the delivery of superfluous luggage\nto the care of the station-master, and our lingering by the way, had\nbrought us to past nine o'clock--an unprecedented hour for breakfast\nin Schwatz. 'Couldn't we be content with wine? in a couple of hours\nmeat would be ready, as the carters came in to dine then.' Meat\nand coffee at the same repast, and either at that hour, were ideas\nshe could not at first take in. Nevertheless, when we detailed our\nneeds, astonishment gave way to compassion, and she consented to\ndrop her incongruous propositions, and to make us happy in our own\nway. Accordingly, she was soon busied in lighting a fire, running\nto fetch coffee and rolls--though she did not, as happened to me in\nSpain, ask us to advance the money for the commission--and very soon\nappeared with a tray full of tumblers and queer old crockery. The\nblack beverage she at last provided consisted of a decoction of\nnothing nearer coffee than roasted corn, figs, [109] or acorns; and\nthe rolls had the strangest resemblance to leather; but the milk and\neggs were fine samples of dairy produce, for which Schwatz is famous,\nand these and the luscious fruit made up for the rest.\n\nI remember that the poet-author of one of the most charming books\nof travel, in one of the most charming countries of Europe, [110]\ndeprecates the habit travel-writers have of speaking too much about\ntheir fare; and in one sense his remarks are very just. Where this\nis done without purpose or art, it becomes a bore; but 'love itself\ncan't live on flowers;' and as, however humiliating the fact, it\nis decreed that the only absolutely necessary business of man's\nlife is the catering for his daily bread, it becomes interesting\nto the observant to study the various means by which this decree\nis complied with by different races, in different localities. It is\nespecially noteworthy that it is just in countries made supercilious\nby their culture that these matters of a lower order engross the most\nattention, and just those who consider themselves the most civilized\nwho are the most dependent on what have been termed mere 'creature\ncomforts.' These poor country folks, whom the educated traveller\noften passes by as unworthy of notice in their benighted ignorance\nand superstition--while they would not forego their salutation of the\nsacred symbol by the way-side, which marks their intimate appreciation\nof truths of the highest order--put us to shame, by their indifference\nto sublunary indulgences. We had come to Tirol to study their ways,\nand I hope we took our lesson on this occasion, well. We were not\nfeasted with a sumptuous repast, such as might be found in any of the\nmonster hotels, now so contrived, that you may pass through all the\nlarger towns of Europe with such similarity to home-life everywhere,\nthat you might as well never have left your fireside; but we were\npresented with an experience of the struggle with want; of that\nhardy face-to-face meeting with the great original law of labour,\nwhich our modern artificial life puts so completely out of sight,\nthat it grows to regard it as an antiquated fable, and which can only\nbe met amid such scenes.\n\nThe matutinal peasants were packing up their wares--which when spread\nout had made a picturesque market of the main street--by the time we\nagain sallied forth, and we were nearly losing what is always one of\nthe prettiest sights in a foreign town. At the end rose the parish\nchurch, with a stateliness for which the smallness of the village\nhad not prepared us; but Schwatz has a sad and eventful history to\naccount for the disparity.\n\nSchwatz was once a flourishing Roman station, and even now remains are\ndug out which attest its ancient prosperity; but it had fallen away to\nthe condition of a neglected H\u00e4usergruppe by the fourteenth century,\nwhen suddenly came the discovery of silver veins in the surrounding\nheights. A lively bull, [111] one day tearing up the soil with his\nhorns in a frolic, laid bare a shining vein of ore. The name of\nGertraud Kandlerin, the farm-servant who had charge of the herd to\nwhich he belonged, and brought the joyful tidings home to Schwatz,\nhas been jealously preserved. From that moment Schwatz grew in\nimportance and prosperity; and at one time there was a population of\nthirty thousand miners employed in the immediate neighbourhood. The\nFuggers and Hochstetters of Augsburg were induced to come and employ\ntheir vast resources in working the riches of the mountains; and\nnative families of note, laying aside the pursuit of arms, joined in\nthe productive industry. Among these were the Fiegers, one of whom\nwas the counsellor and intimate friend of the Emperor Maximilian,\nwho followed his remains to their last resting-place, at Schwatz,\nwhen he died in ripe old age, leaving fifty-seven children and\ngrandchildren, and money enough to enrich them all. His son Hanns\nmarried a daughter of the Bavarian house of Pienzenau; and when he\nbrought her home, tradition says it was in a carriage drawn by four\nthousand horses. Many names, famous in the subsequent history of the\ncountry, such as the T\u00e4nzls, J\u00f6chls, Tannenbergs, and Sternbachs, were\nthus first raised to importance. This outpouring of riches stimulated\nthe people throughout the country to search for mineral treasures, and\neverywhere the miners of Schwatz were in request as the most expert,\nboth at excavating and engineering. Nor this only within the limits\nof Tirol; they had acquired such a reputation by the middle of the\nsixteenth century, that many distant undertakings were committed to\nthem too. They were continually applied to, to direct mining operations\nin the wars against the Turks in Hungary. Their countermines performed\nan effective part in driving them from before Vienna in 1529; and\nagain, in 1739, they assisted in destroying the fortifications of\nBelgrade. Clement VII. called them to search the mountains of the\nPapal State in 1542; and the Dukes of Florence and Piedmont also had\nrecourse to their assistance about the same time. In the same way,\nmany knotty disputes about mining rights were sent from all parts to\nbe decided by the experience of Schwatz; and its abundance attracted\nto it every kind of merchandise, and every new invention. One of the\nearliest printing-presses was in this way set up here.\n\nBut a similarity of pursuit had established a community of interest\nbetween the miners of Schwatz and their brethren of Saxony; and when\nthe Reformation broke out, its doctrines spread by this means among the\nminers of Schwatz, and led at one time to a complete revolution among\nthem. Twice they banded together, and marched to attack the capital,\nwith somewhat communistic demands. Ferdinand I., and Sebastian,\nBishop of Brixen, went out to meet them on each occasion at Hall, and\non each occasion succeeded in allaying the strife by their moderate\ndiscourse. Within the town of Schwatz, however, the innovators carried\nmatters with a high hand, and at one time obtained possession of half\nthe parish church, where they set up a Lutheran pulpit. Driven out of\nthis by the rest of the population, they met in a neighbouring wood,\nwhere Joham Strauss and Christof S\u00f6ll, both unfrocked monks, used to\nhold forth to them.\n\nA Franciscan, Christof von M\u00fcnchen, now came to Schwatz, to strengthen\nthe faith of the Catholics, and the controversy waged high between the\npartisans of both sides; so high, that one day two excited disputants\ncarried their quarrels so far before a crowd of admiring supporters,\nthat at last the Lutheran exclaimed, 'If Preacher S\u00f6ll does not\nteach the true doctrine, may Satan take me up into the Steinjoch at\nStans!' and as he spoke, so, says the story, it befell: the astonished\npeople saw him carried through the air and disappear from sight! The\ncredit of the Lutherans fell very sensibly on the instant, and still\nmore some days after, when the adventurous victim came back lame and\nbruised, and himself but too well convinced of his error.\n\nNevertheless the strife was not cured. Somewhat later, there was\nan inroad of Anabaptists, under whose auspices another insurrection\narose, and for the time the flourishing mining works were brought to\na stand-still. At last the Government was obliged to interfere. The\nmost noisy and perverse were made to leave the country, and the\nJesuits from Hall were sent over to hold a mission, and rekindle\nthe Catholic teaching. Peace and order were restored: four thousand\npersons were brought back to the frequentation of the sacraments; but\nthe Bergsegen, [112] add the traditions, which had been the occasion\nof so much disunion, was never recovered. From that time forth\nthe mining treasures of Schwatz began to fail; and after a long and\nsteadily continued diminution of produce, silver ceased altogether to\nbe found. Copper, and the best iron of Tirol, are still got out, and\ntheir working constitutes one of the chief industries of the place;\nthe copper produced is particularly fit for wire-drawing, for which\nthere is an establishment here. Another industry of Schwatz is a\ngovernment cigar manufactory, [113] which employs between four and\nfive hundred hands, chiefly women and children, who get very poorly\npaid--ten or twelve francs a-week, working from five in the morning\ntill six in the evening, with two hours' interval in the middle of\nthe day. There are pottery works, which also employ many hands; and\nmany of the women occupy themselves in knitting woollen clothing for\nthe miners. The pastures of the neighbourhood are likewise a source of\nrich in-comings to the town; but with all these industries together,\nSchwatz is far below the level of its early prosperity. Instead of\nits former crowded buildings, it now consists almost entirely of one\nstreet; and instead of being the cynosure of foreigners from all parts,\nis so little visited, that the people came to the windows to look at\nthe unusual sight of a party of strangers as we passed by. In place\nof its early printing-press, its literary requirements are supplied by\none little humble shop, where twine, toys, and traps, form the staple,\nand stationery and a small number of books are sold over and above;\nand where, because we spent a couple of francs, the master thereof\nseemed to think he had driven for that one day a roaring trade.\n\nOther misfortunes, besides the declension of its 'Bergsegen,' have\nbroken over Schwatz. In 1611 it was visited by the plague, in 1670 by\nan earthquake; but its worst disaster was in the campaign of 1809, when\nthe Bavarians, under the Duke of Dantzic, and the French, under Deroi,\ndetermined to strike terror into the hearts of the country-people by\nburning down the town. The most incredible cruelties are reported to\nhave been perpetrated on this occasion, many being such as one cannot\nbear to repeat; so determined was their fury, that when the still\nair refused to fan the flames, they again and again set fire to the\nplace at different points; and the people were shot down when they\nattempted to put out the conflagration. General Wiede was quartered\nin the palace of Count Tannenberg, a blind old man, with four blind\nchildren; his misfortunes, and the laws of hospitality, might have\nprotected him at least from participation in the general calamity;\nbut no, not even the hall where the hospitable board was spread in\nconfidence for the unscrupulous guest, was spared. Once and again,\nas the inimical hordes poured into, or were driven out of, Tirol,\nSchwatz had to bear the brunt of their devastations, so that there\nis little left to show what Schwatz was. The stately parish church,\nhowever, suffered less than might have been expected: in the height of\nthe conflagration, when all was noise and excitement, a young Bavarian\nofficer, over whom sweet home lessons of piety exercised a stronger\ncharm than the wild instincts of the military career which were\neffecting such havoc around, collected a handful of trusty followers,\nand, unobserved by the general herd, succeeded in rescuing it before\ngreat damage had been done.\n\nThe building was commenced about 1470, [114] and consecrated in\n1502. What remains of the original work is in the best style of\nthe period; the west front is particularly noteworthy. The plan of\nthe building is very remarkable, consisting of a double nave, each\nhaving its aisles, choir, and high-altar; this peculiar construction\noriginated in the importance of the Knappen, or miners, at the time it\nwas designed, and their contribution to the building fund entitling\nthem to this distinct division of the church between them and the\ntowns-people; one of the high-altars still goes by the name of the\nKnappenhochaltar. The roof, like those of most churches of Tirol and\nBavaria, is of copper, and is said to consist of fifteen thousand tiles\nof that metal--an offering from the neighbouring mines. The emblem\nof two crossed pick-axes frequently introduced, further denotes the\nconnexion of the mining trade with the building. Whitewash and stucco\nhave done a good deal to hide its original beauties, but some fine\nmonuments remain. One in brass, to Hanns Dreyling the metal-founder,\ndate 1578, near the side ('south') door, should not be overlooked:\nthe design embodies a Renaissance use of Ionic columns and entablature\nin connexion with medi\u00e6val symbols. Below, are seen Hanns Dreyling\nhimself in the dress of his craft, his three wives, and his three sons\nhabited as knights (showing the rise of his fortunes), all under the\nprotection of S. John the Baptist. Above, is portrayed the vision of\nthe Apocalypse, God the Father seated on His Throne, surrounded by\na rainbow, with the Book of Seven Seals, and the Lamb; at His Feet\nthe four Evangelists; around, the four-and-twenty elders, with their\nharps, some wearing their crowns, and some stretching them out as\na humble offering before the Throne; in front kneels the Apostolic\nSeer himself, gazing, and with his right hand pointing, upwards,\nyet smiting his breast with the left hand, and weeping that no one\nwas found worthy to open the seals of the book. Below the epitaph,\nthe monument bears the following lines:\n\n\n    Mir gab Alexander Colin den Possen\n    Hanns L\u00f6ffler hat mich gegossen.\n\n\nAlexander Colin, of Malines, and Hans L\u00f6ffler, were, like Hans\nDreyling, Schmelzherrn of eminence, and connected with him by marriage,\nthus they naturally devoted their best talent to honour their friend\nand master. We learnt to appreciate it better when we came to see\ntheir works at Innsbruck. The nine altar-pieces are mostly by Tirolean\npainters. The Assumption, on one high-altar, is by Sch\u00f6pf; the Last\nSupper on the other--the Knappenhochaltar--by Bauer of Augsburg.\n\nThe 'north' side door opens on to a narrow strip of grass, across\nwhich is a Michaels-kapelle, as the chapel we so often find in\nGerman churchyards--and where the people love to gather, and pray for\ntheir loved and lost--is here called. It is a most beautiful little\nspecimen of middle-pointed, with high-pitched roof and traceried\nwindow. A picturesque stone-arched covered exterior staircase, the\nbanister cornice of which represents a narrow water-trough, with\nefts chasing each other in and out of it, leads to the upper chapel,\nwhich was in some little confusion at the time of our visit, as it\nwas under restoration; two or three artists were in the lower chapel,\npainting the images of the saints in the fresh colours the people\nlove. After some searching, I found out a figure of a dead Christ,\nwhich I was curious to see; because, before coming to Schwatz, I had\nbeen told there was one which had been dearly prized for centuries\nby the people; that once on a time there had come night by night a\nlarge toad, and had stood before the image, resting on its hinder\nfeet, the two front ones joined as if in token of prayer; and no\none durst disturb it, because they said it must be a suffering soul\nwhich they saw under its form. I spoke to one of the artists about\nit, to see if this was the right image, and if the legend was still\nacknowledged. He answered as one who had little sympathy with the\nmysteries he was employed to delineate; he evidently cared nothing\nfor legends, though willing to paint them for money. It was the\nfirst time I had met with this sort of spirit in the neighbourhood,\nand was not surprised to learn he was not of Tirol, but from Munich.\n\nA door opposite the last named opens into the churchyard, filled\nwith the usual black and gold cast-iron crosses, and the usual\nsprinkling of some of a brighter colour; each with its stoup of\nholy water and weihwedel, [115] and its simple epitaph, 'Hier ruhet\nin Frieden....' Besides the large crucifix, which always stands in\nthe centre promising redemption to the faithful departed, is a stout\nround pillar of large rough stones, surmounted by a lantern cap with\nfive sharp points, each face glazed, and a lamp within before some\nrelic, always kept alight, for the people think [116] that the holy\nsouls come and anoint their burning wounds with the oil which piously\nfeeds a churchyard lamp. Twinkling fitfully amid the evening shadows,\nover the graves, and over the human skulls and bones, of which there\nhappened fortuitously to be a heap waiting re-sepulture after some\nlate arrangement of the burying-ground, it disposed one to listen to\nthe strange tales which are told of it. There was once a Robler of\nSchwatz, well-limbed, deep-chested, full of confidence and energy,\nwho had won the right to wear the champion feather [117] against the\nwhole neighbourhood. But not content to be the darling of his home,\nand the pride of his valley, he must needs prove himself the best\nagainst all comers. In fear of the shame of a reverse after all his\nboasts, he resolved to ensure himself against one, by having recourse\nto an act, originally designed probably as a test of possessing,\nbut commonly believed by the people to be a means of winning,\ninvincible strength of nerve, and which is described in the following\nnarrative. Opportunity was not lacking. Death is ever busy, and one\nday laid low an old gossip, who was duly buried with all honour by her\nchildren and children's children to the third generation. Now was the\ntime for our brave Robler. That first night that she rested in the\n'field of peace,' he rose in the dead of the night--a dark starless\nnight, just as it was when we stood there--and the lamp of the shrine\nresting its calm pale rays upon the graves. The great clock struck out\ntwelve, with a rattling of its cumbersome machinery, which sounded like\nskeletons walking by in procession; our Robler quailed not, however,\nbut approached the new grave, scattered the earth from over it with his\nspade, raised up the coffin, opened it, took out the corpse, dressed\nhimself in its shroud, and lifted the ghastly burden on to his strong\nshoulders. Never had burden felt so heavy; it seemed to him as though\nhe bore the Freundsberg on his back; though sinking and quailing,\nhe bore it three times round the whole circuit of the enclosure,\nlaid it back in the coffin, and lowered the coffin into the grave;\ntriumphantly he showered the earth over it, and took quite a pleasure\nin shaping the hillock smoothly and well. Then suddenly, to his horror,\nwith a click like the gripe of a skeleton, he heard the clapper of the\nold clock raised to mark the completion of the hour within which his\ntask, to be effectual, must be accomplished. Meantime, it had come on\nto rain violently, and the big drops pattered on the stones, like dead\nmen tramping all around him; it happened to fall heavily round us,\nand the simile was so striking, I could not forbear a grim smile. It\nseemed to him as if he never could dash through their midst in time;\nstill he made the attempt boldly, and actually succeeded in swinging\nhimself over the churchyard wall before the hammer had fallen,\nand, what was most important, still bearing round his shoulders\nthe shroud of the dead. Nevertheless his heart was full of anxiety\nwith the thought that he had disturbed the peace of the departed;\nit seemed to him as if the old gossip had run after him to claim her\nown, and with her burning hand had seized the fluttering garment, and\ntorn a piece out of it, just as he cleared the wall. For days after,\nthe sexton saw the piece, torn and burnt, fluttering over her grave,\nbut never could make out how it got there. The Robler, however, was\nnow proof against every attack; no one could wear a feather in his\npresence, for he was sure to overcome him, and make him renounce the\nprize. What did he gain, however, by his uncannily-earned prowess? A\nlittle temporary renown and honour, and the fear of his kind; but all\nthrough the rest of his life, at the Wandlung [118] of the Holy Mass,\nthe pure white wafer, as the priest raised it aloft, seemed black to\nhis eyes, and when he came to die, there was no father-confessor near\nto whisper absolution and peace.\n\nA most singular legend, also attached to this spot, dates from the time\nwhen the Jesuit Fathers held their missions after the expulsion of the\nLutherans. With the fervour of new conversion, the people ascribed to\ntheir word the most wonderful powers; and their simple unwavering faith\nseems to have been a loan of that which removes mountains. Among those\nwhom a spirit of penance moved to come and make a general confession\nof their past lives was a lady no longer young, of blameless character,\nbut unmarried. The fathers, as I have already implied, enjoyed the most\nunbounded confidence of the people; and the most unusual penance was\naccepted in the simplest way. To this person the penance enjoined was,\nthat she should for three nights watch through the hour of midnight\nin the church, and then come and give an account of what she had\nseen. Being apparently a person of a strong mind, she was satisfied\nwith the assurance of the father that no harm would happen to her,\nand she fulfilled her task bravely. \"When she came to narrate what had\npassed, she said that each night the church had been traversed by a\ncountless train of men, women, and children, of every age and degree,\ndressed in a manner unlike anything she had seen or read of in the\npast; the features of all quite unknown to her, and yet exhibiting\na certain likeness, which might lead her to believe they might be of\nher own family, and all wearing an expression indescribably sad; she\nwas all anxiety to know what she could do for their relief, for she\nfelt sure it was to move her to this that they had been revealed to\nher. The father told her, however, this was not at all the object of\nthe vision: that the train of people she had seen was an appearance\nof the generations of unborn souls, who might have lived to the\neternal honour and praise of God if she had not preferred her ease\nand freedom and independence to the trammels of the married state;\n'for,' said he, 'your choice of condition was based on this, not on\nthe higher love of God, and the desire of greater perfection. Now,\ntherefore, reflect what profit your past life has borne to the glory\nof God, and strive to make it glorify Him in some way in the future.'\n\nThe Franciscan church was built about the same time as the other,\nand has some remains of the beautiful architecture of its date. Over\nthe credence table is a remarkable and very early painting on panel,\nof the genealogy of our Lord. Within the precincts of the monastery\nare some early frescoes, which I did not see; but they ought not to\nbe overlooked. One subject, said to be very boldly and strikingly\nhandled, is the commission to the Apostles to go out and preach the\nGospel to the nations.\n\nThe day was wearing on, and we had our night's lodging to provide; the\ninn where we had breakfasted did not invite our confidence, despite\nof the pretty Kranach's Madonna which smiled over the parlour, and\nthe good-natured maid who deemed it her business to wait behind our\nchairs while we sipped our coffee; so we walked down the long street,\nand tried our luck at one and another. There were plenty of them: and\nthey were easily recognized now we knew their token, for each has a\nforbidden-fruit-tree painted on the wall with some subject out of the\nNew Testament surmounting it, to show the triumph of the Gospel over\nthe Fall; while the good gifts of Providence, which mine host within\nis so ready to dispense, are typified by festoons of grape-vines,\nsurrounding the picture. Those which let out horses have also a team\ncut out in a thin plate of copper, and painted proper, as heralds say,\nfixed at right angles to the doorpost. Nevertheless, the interiors\nwere not inviting, and at more than one the bedding was all on the\nroof, airing; and the solitary maid, left in charge of the house\nwhile all the rest of the household were in the fields harvesting,\ndeclared the impossibility of getting so many beds as we wanted ready\nby the evening. Dinner at the Post having somehow indisposed us for it,\nwe at last put up at the Krone, which was very much like a counterpart\nof our first experience. Nothing could exceed the pleasant willingness\nof the people of the house; but both their accommodation and their\ncleanliness was limited; and besides a repulsive look, there was\nan unaccountable odour, about the beds, which made sleeping in them\nimpossible. My astonishment may be imagined, when on proceeding to\nexamine whether there were any articles of bedding that would do to\nroll oneself up in on the floor, I found that the smell proceeded\nfrom layers of apples between the mattresses, which it seems to be\nthe habit thus to preserve for winter use!\n\nThe rooms were large and rambling, and filled with cumbersome\nfurniture, some of which must, I think, have been made before the\ngreat fire of 1809. As in all the other houses, a guitar hung on the\nwall of the sitting-room; and after many coy refusals, the daughter\nof the house consented to sing to it one or two melodies very modestly\nand well.\n\nYou do not sleep very soundly on the floor, and by six next morning\nthe tingling of the Blessed Sacrament bell sufficed to rouse me\nin time to see how the Schwatzers honour 'das hochw\u00fcrdigste Gut,'\n[119] as it passed them on its way to the sick. Two little boys in red\ncassocks went first, bearing red banners and holy-water; two followed\nin red and yellow, bearing a canopy over the priest, and four men\ncarried lanterns on long poles. The rain of the previous night had\nfilled the road with puddles, but along the whole way the peasants\nwere on their knees. To all who are afflicted with long illnesses,\nit is thus carried at least every month.\n\nThe morning was bright and hot, but the ruined castle on the\nneighbouring Freundsberg looked temptingly near; and we easily found\na rough but not difficult path, past a number of crazy cottages,\nthe inhabitants of which, however poor and hard worked, yet gave us\nthe cheerful Christian greeting, 'Gelobt sei Jesus Christus!' as\nwe passed. Near the summit the cottages cease; and after a short\nstretch in the burning sun, you appreciate the shade afforded by\na tiny chapel, at the side of a crystal spring, welling up out of\nthe ground, its waters cleverly guided into a conduit, formed of a\nhollowed tree, which supplies all the houses of the hill-side, and\nperhaps accounts for their being so thickly clustered there. The last\nwind of the ascent is the steepest and most slippery. The sun beat\ndown relentlessly, but seemed to give unfailing delight to myriads\nof lizards, adders, and grasshoppers, who were darting and whirring\nover the crumbling stones in the maddest way. Historians, poets, or\npainters, have made some ruins so familiarly a part of the world's\nlife, and their grand memories of departed glories have been so often\nrecounted, that they seem stereotyped upon them. Time has shattered\nand dismantled them, but has robbed them of nothing, for their glories\nof all ages are concrete around them still. But poor Freundsberg! who\nthinks of it? or of the thousand and one ruined castles which mark\nthe 'sky-line' of Tirol with melancholy beauty? Each has, however,\nhad its throb of hope and daring, and its day of triumph and mastery,\noften noble, sometimes--not so often as elsewhere--base. Freundsberg\nis no exception. For two hundred years before the Christian era\nit was a fortress, we know: for how long before that we know not;\nand then again, we know little of what befell it, till many hundred\nyears after, in the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries,\nits lords were known as mighty men of war. It reached its highest\nglory under Captain Georg, son of Ulrich and a Swabian heiress whose\nvast dowry tended to raise the lustre of the house.\n\nGeorg von Freundsberg entered the career of arms in early youth,\nand rose to be a general at an age when other men are making their\npremi\u00e8res armes. At four-and-twenty he was reckoned by Charles Quint\nhis most efficient leader. Over the Swiss, over the Venetians, wherever\nhe led, he was victorious. The victory at Pavia was in great measure\ndue to his prowess. His personal strength is recorded in fabulous\nterms; his foresight in providing for his men, and his art of governing\nand attaching them, were so remarkable, that they called him their\nfather, and he could do with them whatever he would. They recorded\nhis deeds in the terms in which men speak of a hero: they said that\nthe strongest man might stand up against him with all his energy, and\nyet with the little finger of his left hand he could throw him down;\nthat no matter at what fiery pace a horse might be running away, if\nhe but stretched his hand across the path he brought it to a stand;\nthat in all the Emperor's stores there was no field-piece so heavy\nbut he could move it with ease with one hand. They sang of him:\n\n\n    Georg von Freundsberg,\n    von grosser Sterk,\n    ein theurer Held;\n    behielt das Feld\n    in Streit und Krieg.\n    den Feind niederslieg\n    in aller Schlacht.\n    er legt Got zu die Er und Macht.' [120]\n\n\nThe last line would show that to a certain extent he was not untrue\nto the traditions of his country; nevertheless, his success in war,\nand his love for the Emperor, carried him so far away from them, that\nwhen the siege of Rome was propounded, he not only accepted a command\nin the attack on the 'Eternal City,' but raised twelve thousand men in\nhis Swabian and Tirolean possessions to support the charge. None who\nhave pondered the havoc and the horrors of that wanton and sacrilegious\nsiege will care to extenuate the guilt of any participator in it. It\nis the blot on Georg von Freundsberg's character, and it was likewise\nhis last feat. He died suddenly within the twelvemonth, aged only\nfifty-two, leaving his affairs in inextricable confusion, and his\nestate encumbered with debts incurred in raising the troops who were\nto assist in the desolation of the 'Holy City.'\n\nHis brothers--Ulrich, Bishop of Trent, and Thomas, who like himself\nfollowed the military calling--earned a certain share of respect also;\nbut no subsequent member of the family was distinguished, and the\nrace came to an end in 1580. The castle fell into ruin; and as if a\ncurse rested on it, when it was used again, it was to afford cover\nto the Bavarians in firing upon the people in 1809! I do not know by\nwhat local tradition, but some motive of affection still renders the\nchapel a place of pious resort; and a copy of Kranach's 'Mari\u00e4hilf'\nadorns the altar. The remaining tower affords a pleasing outline.\n\nI returned to the chapel by the brook, and sat down to sketch it,\nthough rather too closely placed under it to view it properly; there\nis always an indefinable satisfaction in making use of these places\nof pious rest, which brotherly charity has provided for the unknown\nwayfarer. When, after a time, I looked up from my paper, I saw sitting\noutside in the sun a strange old woman, the stealthy approach of whose\nshoeless feet I had not noticed. I advised her to come in and rest;\nand then I asked her how she came to walk unshod over the stones of\nthe path, which were sharp and loose, as well as burning hot, while\nshe carried a pair of stout shoes in her hand. 'That doesn't hurt,'\nshe replied indignantly; 'it's the shoes that hurt. When you put your\nfoot down you know where you put it, and you take hold of the ground;\nbut when you have those things on, you don't know where your foot\ngoes, and down you go yourself. That's what happened to me on this\nvery path, and see what came of it.' And she bared her right arm, and\nshowed that it had been broken, and badly set, and now was withered\nand useless--she could do no more work to support herself. I asked\nher how she lived, and she did not like the question, for begging,\nit seems, is forbidden. But I said it was a very hard law, and then\nshe grew more confidential; and after a little more talk, her wild\nweird style, and her strong desire to tell my fortune, showed me\nshe was one of those dangerous devotees who may be considered the\ncamp-followers of the Christian army, whose chance of ingratiating\nthemselves seems greatest where the faith is brightest, and who\nthere work all manner of mischief, overlaying simple belief with\npagan superstition; but at the same time, such an one is generally\na very mine for the comparative mythologist, and in this individual\ninstance not without some excuse in her misfortunes. For, besides the\nunlucky disablement already named, she had lost not only her house,\nhome, and belongings, but all her relations also, in a fire. It is\nnot surprising if so much misery had unhinged her mind. Her best\nmeans of occupation seemed to be, when good people gave her alms,\nto go to a favourite shrine, and pray for them; and I fully believe,\nfrom her manner, that she conscientiously fulfilled such commissions,\nfor I did not discover anything of the hypocrite about her. Only once,\nwhen I had been explaining what a long way I had come on purpose to see\nthe shrines of her country, she amused me by answering, in the most\ninflated style, that however far it might be, it could not be so far\nas she had come--she came from beyond mountains and seas, far, far,\never so far--till I looked at her again, and wondered if she were a\ngipsy, and was appropriating to her personal experience some of the\ntraditional wanderings of her race. Presently she acknowledged that\nher birth-place was Seefeld, which I knew to be at no great distance\nfrom Innsbruck, perhaps ten miles from where we stood. Yet this tone\nof exaggeration may have arisen from an incapacity to take in the\nidea of a greater distance than she knew of previously, rather than\nfrom any intention to deceive; and her 'seas' were of course lakes,\nwhich when spoken of in the German plural have not even the gender\nto distinguish them.\n\nWhen she had once mentioned Seefeld, she grew quite excited, and\ntold me no place I had come from could boast of such a marvellous\nfavour as God had manifested to her Seefeld. I asked her to tell me\nabout it. 'What! don't you know about Oswald Milser?' and I saw my\nwant of recognition consigned me to the regions of her profoundest\ncontempt. 'Don't you know about Oswald Milser, who by his pride\nquenched all the benefit of his piety and his liberality to the\nChurch? who, when he went to make his Easter Communion one gr\u00fcne\nDonnerstag, [121] insisted that it should be given him in one of\nthe large Hosts, which the priest uses, and so distinguish him from\nthe people. And when the priest, afraid to offend the great man,\ncomplied, how the weight bore him down, down into the earth;' and she\ndescribed a circle with her finger on the ground, and bowed herself\ntogether to represent the action; 'and he clung to the altar steps,\nbut they gave way like wax; and he sank lower and lower, [122] till\nhe called to the priest to take the fearful Host back from him.' 'And\nwhat became of him?' I asked. 'He went into the monastery of Stamms,\nand lived a life of penance. But his lady was worse than he: when they\ntold her what had taken place, she swore she would not believe it;\n\"As well might you tell me,\" she said, and stamped her foot, \"that\nthat withered stalk could produce a rose;\" and even as she spoke,\nthree sweet roses burst forth from the dry branch, which had been dead\nall the winter. Then the proud lady, refusing to yield to the prodigy,\nrushed out of the house raving mad, and was never seen there again;\nbut by night you may yet hear her wailing over the mountains, for\nthere is no rest for her.' Her declamation and action accompanying\nevery detail was consummate.\n\nI asked her if she knew no such stories of the neighbourhood of\nSchwatz. She thought for a moment, and then assuming her excited\nmanner once more, she pointed to a neighbouring eminence. 'There was\na bird-catcher,' she said, 'who used to go out on the Goaslahn there,\nfollowing his birds; but he was quite mad about his sport, and could\nnot let it alone, feast day or working day. One Sunday came, and he\ncould not wait to hear the holy Mass. \"I'll go out for an hour or\ntwo,\" he said; \"there'll be time for that yet.\" So he went wandering\nthrough the woods, following his sport, and the hours flew away as\nfast as the birds; hour by hour the church bell rang, but he always\nsaid to himself he should be in time to catch the Mass of the next\nhour. The nine o'clock Mass was past, and the clock had warned him\nthat it was a quarter to ten, and he had little more than time to\nreach the last Mass of the day. Just as he was hesitating to pack\nup his tackle, a beautiful bird, such as he had never seen before,\nwith a gay red head, came hopping close to his decoy birds. It was\nnot to be resisted. The bird-catcher could not take his eye off the\nbird. \"Dong!\" went the bell; hop! went the bird. Which should he\nfollow? The bird was so very near the lime now; there must be time to\nsecure him, and yet reach the church, at least before the Gospel. At\nlast, the final stroke of the bell sounded; and at the same instant\nthe beautiful bird hopped on to the snare. Who could throw away so fair\na chance? Then the glorious plumage must be carefully cleansed of the\nbird-lime, which had assisted the capture, and the prize secured, and\ncarefully stowed away at home. It would be too late for Mass then;\nand the bird-catcher felt the full reproach of the course he was\ntempted to pursue, nevertheless he could not resist it. On he went,\nhomewards; now full of buoyant joy over his luck, now cast down with\nshame and sorrow over his neglected duty. He had thus proceeded a\ngood part of his way, before he perceived that his burden was getting\nheavier and heavier; at last he could hardly get along under it. So\nhe set it down, and began to examine into the cause. He found that\nthe strange bird had swelled out so big, that it was near bursting\nthe bars of its cage, while from its wings issued furious sulphurous\nfumes. Then he saw how he had been deceived; that the delusive form\nhad been sent by the Evil One, to induce him to disobey the command\nof the Church. Without hesitation he flung the cursed thing from him,\nand watched it, by its trail of lurid flame, rolling down the side of\nthe Goaslahn. But never, from that day forward, did he again venture\nto ply his trade on a holy day.\n\n'Such things had happened to others also,' she said. 'Hunters had\nbeen similarly led astray after strange chamois; for the power of\nevil had many a snare for the weak. Birds too, though we deemed\nthem so pretty and innocent, were, more often than we thought, the\ninstruments of malice.' And it struck me as she spoke, that there were\nmore crabbed stories of evil boding in her repertory than gentle and\nholy ones. 'There is the swallow,' she instanced: 'why do swallows\nalways hover over nasty dirty marshy places? Don't you know that\nwhen the Saviour was hanging on the Cross, and the earth trembled,\nand the sun grew dark with horror, and all the beasts of the field\nwent and hid themselves for shame, only the frivolous [123] swallows\nflitted about under the very shadow of the holy rood, and twittered\ntheir love songs as on any ordinary day. Then the Saviour turned\nHis head and reproached the thoughtless birds; and mark my words,\nnever will you see a swallow perched upon anything green and fresh.'\n\nI was sorry to part from her and her legendary store; but I was\nalready due at the station, to meet friends by the train. She took\nmy alms with glee, and then pursued her upward way barefooted, to\nmake some promised orisons at the Freundsberg shrine.\n\nIt was a glowing afternoon; and after crossing the unshaded bridge\nand meadows, to and from the railway, I was glad to stop and rest\nin a little church which stood open, near the river. It was a plain\nwhitewashed edifice, ornamented with more devotion than taste. When I\nturned to come away, I found that the west wall was perforated with\na screen of open iron-work, on the other side of which was an airy\nhospital ward. The patients could by this means beguile their weary\nhours with thoughts congenial to them suggested by the Tabernacle and\nthe Crucifix. A curtain hung by the side, which could be drawn across\nthe screen at pleasure. There were not more than four or five patients\nin the ward at the time, and in most instances decay of nature was the\ncause of disease. There is not much illness at Schwatz; but admittance\nto the simple accommodation of the hospital is easily conceded. Schwatz\nformerly had two, but the larger was burnt down in 1809. The remaining\none seems amply sufficient for the needs of the place.\n\nThere was 'Benediction' in the church in the evening, for it was,\nI forget what, saint's day. The church was very full, and the people\nsaid the Rosary in common before the Office began. A great number of\nthe girls from the tobacco factory came in as they left work, and the\nsinging was unusually sweet, which surprised me, as the Schwatzers are\nnoted for their nasal twang and drawling accent in speaking. I learnt\nthat there are several Italians from W\u00e4lsch-Tirol settled here, and\nthey lead the choir. It is edifying to see the work-people, after their\nday's toil, coming into the church as if it was more familiar to them\neven than home; but one does not get used to seeing the uncovered heads\nof the women, though indeed with the rich and luxuriant braids of hair\nwith which Nature endows them, they might be deemed 'covered' enough.\n\nA more familiar sight to an English eye is the seat-filled area of\nthe German churches. Confessedly it is one of the home associations\nwhich one least cares to see reproduced, but the pews of the German\nchurches are less objectionable than our own; they are lower, and\nnot so crowded, and ample space is always left for processions,\nso they interfere far less with the architectural design.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nNORTH TIROL--UNTERINNTHAL (RIGHT INN-BANK).\n\nEXCURSIONS FROM SCHWATZ.\n\n\n    'Partout o\u00f9 touche votre regard vous rencontrez au fond sous la\n    forme qui passe, un myst\u00e8re qui demeure ... chacun des myst\u00e8res\n    de ce monde est la figure, l'image de celui du monde sup\u00e9rieur;\n    de sorte que tout ce que nous pouvons conna\u00eetre dans l'ordre\n    de la nature est la r\u00e9v\u00e9lation m\u00eame de l'ordre divin.'--Chev\u00e9,\n    Visions de l'Avenir.\n\n\nFalkenstein, which may be reached by a short walk from Schwatz,\nis worth visiting on account of the information it affords as to\nthe mode of working adopted in the old mines both of silver and\ncopper. This was the locality where the greatest quantity of silver\nwas got; it was particularly noted also for the abundance and beauty\nof the malachite, found in great variety and richness of tints; the\nturquoise was found also, but more rarely. The old shaft runs first\nhorizontally for some two miles, and then sinks in two shafts to a\ndepth of some two hundred and thirty fathoms. The engineering and\nhydraulic works seem to have been very ingenious, but the description\nof them does not come within the sphere of my present undertaking. It\ndoes, however, to observe that over this, as over everything else in\nTirol, religion shed its halo. The miners had ejaculatory prayers,\nwhich it was their custom to utter as they passed in and out of their\nplace of subterranean toil; and an appropriate petition for every\ndanger, whether from fire-damp, land-slips, defective machinery,\nor other cause. Their greeting to each other, and to those they met\nby the way, in place of the national 'Gelobt sei Jesus Christus,'\nwas 'Gott gebe euch Gl\u00fcck und Segen!' [124] For their particular\npatron they selected the Prophet Daniel, whose preservation in the\nrocky den of the lions, as they had seen it portrayed, seemed to\nbear some analogy with their own condition. Of their liberality in\nchurch-building I have already spoken; but many are the churches and\nchapels that bear the token--a crossed chisel and hammer on a red\nfield--of their contribution to its expense.\n\nThere are many other walks to be made from Schwatz. First there is\nBuch, so called from the number of beech-trees in the neighbourhood,\nwhich afford pleasant shade, and diversify the scenery, in which the\ncastle of Tratzberg across the Inn [125] also holds an important\npart. Further on is Margareth, surrounded by rich pastures, which\nare watered by the foaming Margarethenbach. Then to the south-east is\nGalzein, with a number of dependent 'groups of houses,' particularly\nKugelmoos, the view from which sweeps the Inn from Kufstein to\nInnsbruck. Beyond, again, but further south, is the Schwaderalpe,\nwhence the iron worked and taken in dep\u00f4t at Schwatz is got;\nand the Kellerspitze, with the little village of Troi, its twelve\nhouses perched as if by supernatural handiwork on the spur of a\nrock, and once nearly as prolific as Falkenstein in its yield of\nsilver. The exhausted--deaf (taub) as it is expressively qualified\nin German--borings of S. Anthony and S. Blaze are still sometimes\nexplored by pedestrians.\n\nArzburg also is within an hour's walk. It was once rich in copper\nore, but is now comparatively little worked. Above it is the\nHeiligenkreuzkapelle, about which it is told, that when, on occasion of\nthe baierische-Rumpel [126] in 1703, the bridge of Zirl was destroyed,\nthe cross which surmounted it being carried away by the current,\nwas here rescued and set up by the country-people, who still honour\nit by frequent pilgrimages.\n\nStarting again from Schwatz by the high-road, which follows pretty\nnearly the course of the Inn, you pass a succession of small towns,\neach of which heads a valley, to which it gives its name, receiving\nit first from the torrent which through each pours the aggregate of\nthe mountain streams into the river, all affording a foot-way through\nthe Duxerthal into the further extremity of the Zillerthal--Pill,\nWeer, Kolsass, Wattens, and Volders.\n\nFirst, there is Pill, a frequent name in Tirol, and derived by Weber\nfrom B\u00fchl or B\u00fcchl, a knoll; it is the wildest and most enclosed of any\nof these lateral valleys, and exposed to the ravages of the torrent,\nwhich often in winter carries away both bridges and paths, and makes\nits recesses inaccessible even to the hardy herdsmen. The following\nstory may serve to show how hardy they are:--Three sons of a peasant,\nwhose wealth consisted in his grazing rights over a certain tract of\nthe neighbouring slopes, were engaged one day in gathering herbage\nalong the steep bank for the kids of their father's flock. The steep\nmust have been difficult indeed on which they were afraid to trust\nmountain kids to cater for themselves; and the youngest of the boys\nwas but six, the eldest only fifteen. The eldest lost his balance,\nand was precipitated into the roaring torrent, just then swollen\nto unusual proportions; he managed to cling fast behind one of the\nrocky projections which mark its bed, but his strength was utterly\nunable to bear him out of the stream. The second brother, aged ten,\nwithout hesitating, embraced the risk of almost certain death, let\nhimself down the side of the precipice by clinging to the scanty roots\nwhich garnished its almost perpendicular side. Arrived at the bottom,\nhe sprang with the lightness of a chamois across the foaming waters\non to the rock where the boy was now slackening his exhausted hold,\nand succeeded in dragging him up on to the surface; but even there\nthere seemed no chance of help, far out of sound as they were of all\nhuman ears. But the youngest, meantime, with a thoughtfulness beyond\nhis years, had made his way home alone, and apprised the father,\nwho readily found the means of rescuing his offspring.\n\nThe break into the Weerthal is at some little distance from the high\nroad; its church, situated on a little high-level plain, is surrounded\nwith fir-trees. A little lake is pointed out, of which a similar\nlegend is told to 'the judgment of Achensee,' which is indeed one not\ninfrequently met with; it is said that it covers a spot where stood a\nmighty castle, once submerged for the haughtiness of its inhabitants,\nand the waters placed there that no one might again build on the\nsite for ever. The greatest ornament of the valley is the rambling\nruin of Schloss Rettenberg, on its woody height, once a fortress\nof the Rottenburgers; afterwards it passed to Florian Waldauf,\nwhose history I have already given when speaking of Hall. [127]\nIt was bought by the commune in 1810, and the present church built\nup out of the materials it afforded, the former church having been\nburnt down that year. The old site and its remains are looked upon\nby the people as haunted by a steward of the castle and his wife,\nwho in the days of its prosperity dealt hardly with the widow and the\norphan, and must now wander sighing and breathing death on all who\ncome within their baleful influence. A shepherd once fell asleep in\nthe noontide heat, while his sheep were browsing on the grass-grown\neminence. When he woke, they were no longer in sight; at last he found\nthem dead within the castle keep. 'Guard thy flock better,' shouted a\nhoarse voice, 'for this enclosure is mine, and none who come hither\nescape me.' None ventured within the precincts after this; but many\na time those who were bold enough to peep through a fissure in the\ncrazy walls reported that they had seen the hard-hearted steward as\na pale, weary, grey-bearded man, sit sighing on the crumbling stones.\n\nThe Kolsassthal merges into the Weerthal and is hardly distinguished\nfrom it, and affords a sort of counterpart, though on more broken\nground, to the Gnadenwald on the opposite side of the river. It is\nfrom this abundance of shady woods that its name is derived, through\nthe old German kuol, cool, and sazz, a settlement. In the church,\nthe altar-piece of the Assumption is by Zoller. The church of Wattens\nhas an altar-piece by a more esteemed Tirolean artist, Sch\u00f6pf; it\nrepresents S. Laurence, to whom the church is dedicated. The many\nforges busily at work making implements of agriculture, nails, &c.,\nkeep you well aware of the thrift and industry of the place; its\nprosperity is further supported by a paper manufactory, which has\nalways remained in the hands of the family which started it in 1559,\nand supplies the greater part of Tirol. A self-taught villager, Joseph\nSchwaighofer, enjoyed some reputation here a few years ago as a guitar\nmaker. The Wattenserthal, like the Kolsassthal, is also very woody,\nand contains some little settlements of charcoal-burners; but it is\nalso diversified by a great many fertile glades, which are diligently\nsought out for pasture. At Walchen, where a few shepherds' huts are\nclustered at the confluence of two mountain streams, the valley is\nbroken into two branches--one, M\u00f6ls, running nearly due south into\nthe Navisthal, by paths increasing in difficulty as you proceed;\nthe other, Lizumthal, by the south-east to Hinterdux, passing at the\nInnerlahn the so-called 'Blue Lake,' of considerable depth. [128]\n\nFollowing the road again, Volders is reached at about a mile from\nWattens. As at the latter place, your ears are liberally greeted\nwith the sounds of the smithy. Volders has quite a celebrity for\nits production of scythes; some ten or twelve thousand are said to\nbe exported annually. The Post Inn affords tolerable quarters for a\nnight or two while exploring the neighbourhood.\n\nThe prolific pencil of Sch\u00f6pf has provided the church with an\naltar-piece of the Holy Family; though an ancient foundation, it does\nnot present any object of special interest.\n\nThe Voldererthal runs beneath some peaks dear to Alpine climbers, the\nGrafmarterspitz, the Glunggeser, the Kreuzjoch, and the Pfunerjoch. Its\nentrance is commanded by the castles of Hanzenheim, sometimes called\nStarkelberg, from having belonged to a family of that name, and used as\na hospital during the campaign of 1809; and Friedberg, which is still\ninhabited, having been carefully restored by the present owner, Count\nAlbert von Cristalnigg. It was originally built in the ninth or tenth\ncentury, as a tower to guard the bridge; it gave its name to a powerful\nfamily, who are often mentioned in the history of Tirol. At the end of\nthe thirteenth and beginning of the fourteenth centuries, it was one\nof the castles annexed by Friedrich mit der leeren Tasche. It contains\nalso the Voldererbad, a mineral spring, which is much visited, but more\nconveniently reached by way of Windegg than through the valley itself.\n\nIn the Voldererwald is a group of houses, Aschbach by name, which\nbelongs ecclesiastically to the parish of Mils, on the opposite side;\nand the following story is given to account for the anomaly:--At the\ntime when the territory of Volders belonged parochially to Kolsass\n(it must have been before the year 1630, as it was that year formed\ninto an independent parish), the neighbourhood was once ravaged by the\nplague. A farmer of Aschbach being stricken by it, sent to beg the\nspiritual assistance of the priest of Kolsass. The priest attended\nto the summons; but when he reached the threshold of the infected\ndwelling, and saw what a pitiable sight the sick man presented, his\nfears got the better of his resolution, and he could not prevail on\nhimself to enter the room. Not to leave his penitent entirely without\ncomfort, however, he exhorted him to repentance, heard his confession,\nand absolved him from where he stood; and then uncovering the sacred\nHost, bid him gaze on it in a spirit of faith, and assured him he\nshould thereby receive all the benefit of actual Communion. The visit\nthus completed, he hurried back to Kolsass in all speed. Meantime the\nsick man, not satisfied with the office thus performed, sent for the\npriest of Mils, who, supported by apostolic charity, approached him\nwithout hesitation, and administered the sacred mysteries. Contrary to\nall expectation, the farmer recovered, resumed his usual labours, and\nin due course garnered his harvest. In due course also came round the\nseason for paying his tithe. With commendable punctuality the farmer\nloaded his waggon with the sacred tribute, and started alacritously\non the way to Kolsass. Any one who watched him might have observed a\ntwinkle of his eye, which portended some unusual d\u00e9nouement to the\nyearly journey. As he approached Kolsass the twinkle kindled more\nhumorously, and the oxen felt the goad applied more vigorously. The\npastor of Kolsass turned out to see the waggon approaching at the\nunusual pace, and was already counting the tempting sheaves of golden\ncorn. To his surprise, however, his frolicsome parishioner wheeled\nround his team before he brought it to a stand, and then cried aloud,\n'Gaze, Father! yes, gaze in faith on the goodly sight, and believe me,\nyour faith shall stand you in stead of the actual fruition!' With that\nhe drove his waggon at the same pace at which he had come, straight\noff to the pastor of Mils, at whose worthy feet he laid the tithe. And\nthis act of 'poetical justice' was ratified by ecclesiastical authority\nas a censure on the pusillanimity of the priest of Kolsass, by the\ntransfer of the tithing of Aschbach to the parish of Mils. I have met a\ncounterpart of this story both in England and in Spain; so true is it,\nas Carlyle has prettily said, that though many traditions have but one\nroot they grow, like the banyan, into a whole overarching labyrinth.\n\nThe stately Serviten-kloster outside Volders suggests another\nadaptation of this metaphor. From the root of one saint's maxims\nand example, what an 'over-arching labyrinth' of good works will\ngrow up and spread over and adorn the face of the earth, even in\nthe most distant parts. In the year 1590 there was born at Trent a\nboy named Hyppolitus Guarinoni, who was destined to graft upon Tirol\nthe singular virtues of St. Charles Borromeo. Attached early to the\nhousehold of the saintly Archbishop of Milan, Guarinoni grew up to\nembody in action his spirit of devotion and charity. By St. Charles's\nadvice and assistance he followed the study of medicine, and took\nhis degree in his twenty-fifth year. Shortly after, he was appointed\nphysician in ordinary to the then ruler of Tirol, Archduke Ferdinand\nII. His fervent piety marked him as specially fit to be further\nentrusted with the sanitary care of the convent founded some years\nbefore by the Princesses Magdalen, Margaret, and Helena, Ferdinand's\nsisters, at Hall, and called the K\u00f6nigliche Damenstift. [129] All\nthe time that was left free by these public engagements he spent by\nthe bedsides of the poor of the neighbourhood. The care of the soul\never accompanied his care for their bodies, and many a wanderer owed\nhis reconciliation with heaven to his timely exhortations. Just about\nthis time the incursions of the new doctrines were making themselves\nfelt in this part of Tirol, and some localities, which from their\nremoteness were out of the way of regular parochial ministrations,\nwere beginning to listen to them. Guarinoni discovered this in the\ncourse of his charitable labours, for which no outlying Sennerh\u00fctte was\ninaccessible. In 1628 he obtained special leave, though a layman, from\nthe Bishop of Brixen, to preach in localities which had no resident\npastor; he further published a little work which he used to distribute\namong the people, designed to show them how many corporal infirmities\nare induced by neglect of the whole-some maxims of religion. Besides\nthe restored unity of the faith in his country, two other monuments of\nhis piety remain: the Church of St. Charles by the bridge of Volders,\nand the Sanctuary of Judenstein. In his moments of leisure it was\nhis favourite occupation to commit to writing for the instruction\nof posterity the traditional details of the life of St. Nothburga,\nand of the holy child Andreas of Rinn, which were at his date even\nmore rife in the mouths of the peasantry of the neighbourhood than\nat present. He only died in 1654, having devoted himself to these\ngood works for nearly half a century.\n\nThe church by which he endeavoured to bring under observation and\nimitation the distinguishing qualities of St. Charles, was erected\non a spot famous in the Middle Ages as a bandit's den; the building\noccupied thirty-four years, and was consecrated but a short time\nbefore his death. Baron Karl von Fieger, from whom he bought the\nsite, a few years later added to it the Servite monastery, which,\nthough it exhibits all the vices of the architecture of its date,\nyet bears tokens that its imperfections are not due to any stint\nof means. Its three cupolas and other structural arrangements are\ndesigned in commemoration of the Holy Trinity--a mystery which is\nheld in very special honour throughout Austria. In the decorations,\nlater benefactors have carried on Guarinoni's intention, the acts\nof St. Charles being portrayed in the frescoes, completed in 1764,\nby which Knoller has earned some celebrity in the world of art for\nhimself and for the church: they display his conversion from the\nstiffer German style of his master, Paul Trogger, to the Italian\nmanner. That over the entrance conveys a tradition of St. Charles,\npredicting to Guarinoni, while his page, that he would one day erect a\nchurch in his honour; that of the larger cupola is an apotheosis of the\nsaint. The picture of the high-altar sets forth the saint ministering\nto the plague-stricken; it is Knoller's boldest attempt at colouring.\n\nNear the entrance door may be observed a considerable piece of rock\nbuilt into the wall, entitled by the people 'Stein des Gehorsams,'\n[130] its history being that at the time when the church was building\nit was detached from the rock above by a landslip, and threatened\nthe workmen with destruction. Its course was arrested at the behest\nof a pious monk, who was overseeing the works. [131]\n\nAfter passing the Servitenkloster a footpath may easily be found which\nleads to Judenstein and Rinn, the seat of one of the much-contested\nmedi\u00e6val beliefs accusing the Jews of the sacrifice of Christian\nchildren. It may be better, in describing this stem of this banyan,\nto visit Rinn the further place first, and take Judenstein on our way\nback. The country traversed is well wooded, and further diversified by\nthe bizarre outlines of the steeples of Hall seen across the river,\nwhile the mighty Glunggeser-Spitz rises 7,500 feet above you. It\ninvites a visit for its amenity and its associations, though the\nrelics of the infant Saint 'Anderle' are no longer there. His father\ndied, it would seem, while he was a child in arms; his mother earned\nher living in the fields, and while she was absent used to leave\nher boy at Pentzenhof in charge of his godfather, Mayr. One day,\nwhen he was about three years old--it was the 12th July 1462--she\nwas cutting corn, when suddenly she saw three drops of blood upon\nher hand without any apparent means of accounting for the token,\none with which many superstitions were connected. [132] Her motherly\ninstincts were alarmed, and, without an instant's consideration,\nshe threw down her sickle and hurried home. A little field-chapel\nto St. Isidor the husbandman, St. Nothburga, and St. Andrew of Rinn,\nwas subsequently built upon this spot. Arrived at Mayr's house, the\nforebodings of her anxious heart were redoubled at not finding her\ndarling playing about as he was wont. The faithless godfather, taken\nby surprise at her unexpected return, only stammered broken excuses in\nanswer to her reiterated inquiries. At last he exclaimed, thinking to\ncalm her frenzy, 'If he is not here, here is something better--a hat\nfull of golden pieces, which we will share between us.' He took down\nhis hat, but to his consternation instead of finding it heavy with its\ngolden contents, there was nothing in it but withered leaves! At this\nsight he was overcome with fear and horror; his speech forsook him,\nand his senses together, and he ended his days raving mad.\n\nThe distracted mother, meantime, pursued her inquiries and\nperquisitions; but all she could learn was that certain Jews, [133]\nreturning from their harvesting at Botzen, had over-tempted Mayr by\ntheir offers and persuaded him to sell the child to them, but with\nthe assurance that he should come to no harm. Little reassured by\nthe announcement, she ran madly into the neighbouring birchwood,\nwhither she had learned they had bent their steps, and there came\nupon the lifeless body of her treasure, hanging bloodless and mangled\nfrom a tree. A large stone near bore traces of having been used as a\nsacrificial stone, and the clothes, which had been rudely torn off,\nlay scattered about; the many wounds of his tender form showed by\nhow cruel a martyrdom he had been called to share in the massacre of\nthe Innocents.\n\nHis remains were tenderly gathered and laid to rest, and his memory\nheld in affection by all the neighbourhood; nevertheless, though\nthere were many signs of the supernatural connected with the event,\nit did not receive all the veneration it might have been expected to\ncall forth.\n\nAbout ten years later a similar event occurred at Trent, and the\nremains of the infant S. Simeon were treated with so great honour\nthat the people of Rinn were awakened to an appreciation of the\ntreasure they had suffered to lie in their churchyard almost\nunheeded. [134] The Emperor Maximilian I. contemplated building\na church over the spot where the martyrdom occurred, hence call\nJudenstein. His intentions were frustrated by the knavery of the\nbuilder, and only a small chapel was built at this time; and though\non occasion of its consecration the relics of the child martyr were\ncarried thither in solemn procession, they were still for some time\nafter preserved at Rinn. It was Hippolitus Gruarinoni to whom the\nhonour is due of saving the spot from oblivion. The chisel of the\nTirolese sculptor Nissl has set forth in grotesque design a group\nof Jews fulfilling their fearful deed. A portrait of Gruarinoni was\nlikewise hung up there. The relics were translated thither with due\nsolemnity in 1678. An afflux of pilgrims was immediately attracted,\nand the numerous tablets which crowd the walls attest the estimation\nin which it has been held. Then the people began to remember the\nwonders that had surrounded it. The ghost of Godfather Mayr, which\nfor two centuries had been frequently met howling through the woods,\nnow seemed to have found its rest, for it was never more seen or\nheard. And they recalled how a beautiful white lily, with strange\nletters on its petals, had bloomed spontaneously on the holy infant's\ngrave; [135] that when a wilful boy, P\u00f6gler by name, snapped the stem\nwhile they were still pondering what the unknown letters might mean,\nhe had his arm withered; and further that for generations after,\nevery P\u00f6gler had died an untimely or a violent death. How in like\nmanner, for seven consecutive winters, the birch-tree, on which the\ninnocent child's body was hung by his persecutors, put forth fresh\ngreen sprouts as if in spring, and how when a thoughtless woodman one\nday hewed it down for a common tree, it happened that he met with a\nterrible accident on his homeward way, whereof he died. It may well\nbe imagined that where such legends prevailed Jews obtained little\nfavour; so that to the present day it is said there is but few Jew\nfamilies settled among them, though they are numerous and influential\nin other parts of the Austrian dominion. [136]\n\n\nAnother memory yet of Hippolitus Guarinoni lingers in the\nneighbourhood. By a path which branches off near Judenstein to the\nleft (going from Volders and following the stream), the Volderbad is\nreached; a sulphur spring discovered and brought into notice by him,\nand now much frequented in summer, perhaps as much for its pleasant\nmountain breezes as for the medicinal properties of the waters.\n\nThere is another interesting excursion which should be followed\nbefore reaching Innsbruck, but it is more easily made from Hall than\nfrom Volders, though still on the right bank of the Inn. The first\nvillage on it is Ampass, a walk of about four miles from Hall through\nthe most charming scenery; it is so called simply as being situated\non a pass between the hills traversed on the road to Hall. Then you\npass the remains of the former seat of the house of Brandhausen;\nand following the road cut by Maria Theresa through the Wippthal to\nfacilitate the commerce in wine and salt between Matrei and Hall,\nyou pass Altrans and Lans, having always the green heights of the\nPatscherkofl smiling before you, an easy ascent for those who desire to\npractise climbing, from Lans, where the Wilder Mann affords possible\nquarters for a night. [137] A path branching off from the Mattrei\nroad leads hence to Sistrans, a village whose church boasts of having\nbeen embellished by Claudia de' Medici. Its situation is delightful;\nthe green plain is strewed with fifteen towns and villages, including\nHall and Innsbruck, and behind these rise the great range of alps,\nwhile on the immediate foreground is the tiny Lansersee which will\nafford excellent Forellen for luncheon. The bed of this same Lansersee,\nit is said, was once covered with a flourishing though not extensive\nforest, its wood the only substance of a humble peasant, who had\nreceived it from his fathers. A nobleman living near took a fancy to\nthe bit of forest ground, but instead of offering to purchase it, he\nendeavoured to set up some obsolete claim in a court of law. The judge,\nafraid to offend the powerful lord, decided in his favour. The poor\nman heard the sentence with as much grief at the dishonour done to his\nforefathers' honour as distress at his own ruin. 'There is no help for\nme on earth, I know,' said the poor man. 'I have no money to make an\nappeal. I may not contend in arms with one of noble blood. But surely\nHe who sitteth in heaven, and who avenged Naboth, will not suffer\nthis injustice. As for me, my needs are few; I refuse not to work;\nthe sweat of my brow will bring me bread enough; but the inheritance\nof my fathers which I have preserved faithfully as I received it from\nthem, shall it pass to another?' and in the bitterness of his soul\nhe wept and fell asleep; but as he slept in peace a mighty roaring\nsound disturbed the slumbers of the unjust noble; it seemed to him\nin his dream as though the foundations of his castle were shattered\nand the floods passing over them. When they awoke in the morning the\nforest was no more to be seen--a clear calm lake mirrored the justice\nof heaven, and registered its decree that the trees of the poor man\nshould never enrich the store of his unscrupulous neighbour.\n\nSistrans was once famous for a champion wrestler who had long carried\noff the palm from all the country round; but like him of Schwatz, he\nwas not content with his great natural strength; he was always afraid\na stronger than he might arise and conquer him in turn; and so he\ndetermined to put himself beyond the reach of another's challenge. To\neffect this he arranged with great seeming devotion to serve the\nMass on Christmas night; and while the priest's eye was averted, laid\na second wafer upon the one that he had had laid ready. The priest,\nsuspecting nothing, consecrated as usual; and then at the moment of the\nWandlung, when the priest was absorbed in the solemnity of his act,\nas he approached to lift the chasuble he stealthily abstracted the\nHost he had surreptitiously laid on the altar. The precious talisman\ncarefully concealed, he bound it on his arm the instant Mass was over;\nand from that day forth no one could stand against him. And not only\nthis, but he had power too in a multitude of other ways. Had anyone\ncommitted a theft, it needed but to consult our wrestler; if he began\nsaying certain words and walking solemnly along, immediately, step\nby step, were he far or near, the thief, wherever he was, was bound\nby secret and resistless impulse to tread as he trod, and bring back\nthe booty to the place whence he had taken it. Was anyone's cattle\nstricken with sickness, it needed but to call our wrestler; a few\nwords solemnly pronounced, and the touch of his potent arm, sufficed\nto restore the beast to perfect health. Moreover, no bird could escape\nhis snare, no fox or hare or chamois outrun him for swiftness.\n\nThus all went well; he had played a bold stake, and had won his\ngame. But at last the time came for him to die. Weary of his struggles,\nand even of his successes, our wrestler would fain have laid his\nhead to rest under the soft green turf of the field of peace, by\nthe wayside of those who pass in to pray, and lulled by the sound of\nthe holy bells. But in vain he lay in his bed; death came not. True,\nthere were all his symptoms in due force--the glazed eye and palsied\ntongue and wringing agony; but for all that he could not die. At last,\nthe priest, astonished at what he saw, asked him if he had not on his\nconscience some sin weighty above the wont, and so moved him to a sense\nof penance that he confessed his impiety with tears of contrition;\nand it was not till he had told all, and the priest had received\nthe sacred particle he had misused, that, shriven and blessed, his\nsoul could depart in peace. There is a spot outside Sistrans called\nthe Tods\u00fcnden-marterle, but whether it has any connection with this\ntradition, or whether it has one of its own, I have not been able\nto learn.\n\nA couple of hours further is the pilgrimage chapel of Heiligenwasser,\nwhich is much visited both by the pious and the valetudinarian. Its\nhistory is that in 1606 two shepherd boys keeping their father's\nherd upon the mountains lost two young kine. In vain they sought\nthem through the toilful path and beneath the burning sun; the\nkine were nowhere to be found. At last in despair of any further\nlabour proving successful, they fell on their knees and prayed\nwith tears for help from above. Then a bright light fell upon them,\nand the Gnadenmutter appeared beside them, and bid them be of good\ncheer, for the cattle were gone home to their stall; moreover she\nadded, 'Drink, children, for the day is hot, and ye are weary with\nwandering.' 'Drink!' exclaimed the famished children, 'where shall\nwe find water? there is no water near!' but even as they spoke the\nGnadenmutter was taken from their sight, but in the place where the\nlight surrounding her had shone there welled up a clear and bubbling\nstream between the rocks, which has never ceased to flow since. The\nboys went home, but had not the courage to tell how great a favour\nhad been bestowed on them; yet they never went by that way without\nturning to give glory to God, and say a prayer beneath the holy spring.\n\nFifty years passed. One of them was an infirm old man, and no longer\nwent abroad so far, the other was attended in his labours by the son\nof a neighbour, a lad who had been dumb from his birth. When the\nlad saw the herdsman kneel down by the spring and drink and pray,\nhe knelt and drank and prayed too; when lo! no sooner had the water\npassed his lips than he found he had the power of speech like any\nother. The narration of the one wonder led to that of the other. The\npeople readily believed, and before the year was out a chapel had\nbeen raised upon the spot.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nNORTH TIROL--THE INNTHAL.\n\nINNSBRUCK.\n\n\n                                Many centuries have been numbered,\n                                Since in death the monarch slumbered\n                                By the convent's sculptured portal,\n                                  Mingling with the common dust;\n                                But his good deeds, through the ages\n                                Living in historic pages,\n                                Brighter grow and gleam immortal,\n                                  Unconsumed by moth or rust.\n\n                                                             Longfellow.\n\n\nI shall not easily forget my first greeting at Innsbruck. We had come\nmany days' journey from the north to a rendezvous with friends who\nhad travelled many days' journey from the south; they were to arrive a\nweek earlier than we, and were accordingly to meet us at the station\nand do the hosts' part. But it happened that the station was being\nrebuilt, and the order of 'No admittance except on business' was\nstrictly enforced. The post-office was closed, being 'after hours,'\nand though the man left in charge, with true Tirolean urbanity,\nsuffered us to come in and turn over the letters for ourselves,\nwe failed to find the one conveying the directions we sought. So\nwith no fixed advices to guide us, we wandered through the mountain\ncapital in search of a chance meeting. We had nearly given up this\nattempt in its turn in despair of success, when 'Albina,' a little\nwhite Roman lupetto dog, belonging to the friends of whom we were\nin search, came bounding upon me. It was more than two years since\nI had taken leave of her in the Eternal City, but her affectionate\nsympathy was stronger than time or distance; and here, far from all\naid in the associations of home, and while the rest of her party\nwere yet a great way off--almost out of sight--she had spied me out,\nand came to give her true and hearty greeting.\n\nIt is a pleasant association with Innsbruck, a revelation of that\npure and lasting love which dog-nature seems to have been specially\ncreated to convey; but it was not of Innsbruck. Innsbruck--Schpruck,\nas the indigenous call it--though the chief, is the least Tirolean\ntown of Tirol. It apes the airs and vices of a capital, without having\nthe magnificence and convenience by which they are engendered.\n\nThere is a page of Tirol's history blotted by a deed which Innsbruck\nalone, of all Tirol, could have committed, and which it indeed\nrequires its long and otherwise uniformly high character for both\nexceeding hospitality and exceeding loyalty to cancel. The subject\nof it was its own Kaiser Max, whose prudence in governmental details\nand gallantry in the field and in the chase had raised him in the\npopular mind to the position of a hero. When he had come to them\nbefore, in his youth, in his might, and in his imperial pomp, he\nhad been sung and f\u00eated. The people had acclaimed him with joy, and\nhis deeds were a very household epic; while he in turn had extended\ntheir borders by conquest, and their privileges by concessions. But\nnow he had come back to them, worn out with war and cares and age. He\nfelt that his end was near, and it was to Tirol, with which he had\nalways stood in bonds of so much love, that he turned to spend his few\ndeclining years. But Innsbruck, when it saw him thus, seems to have\nforgotten his prowess and his benefits, and to have remembered only\na pitiful squabble about payment of the score for the maintenance\nof his household at his last visit. A ruler who had spent himself\nin bettering the condition of his people might well, in the days\nof his weariness and sadness of heart, have expected to meet with\nmore liberality at their hands; but from Innsbruck, where--little\nobscure provincial town as it was--he had so often held his court,\nwhich had been raised in importance and singularly enriched by royal\nmarriages and receptions and other costly ceremonies celebrated there\nat his desire, and which by his example and instigation had become\nthe residence of many nobles who had learnt under his administration\nto value peaceful study above the pursuit of war--from Innsbruck\nhe had most of all to expect. And yet on this occasion, as he lay\nailing and restless on his couch, the neighing and tramping of his\nhorses disturbed his fitful slumbers; and rising in the early dawn to\nascertain the cause, he beheld the team which had brought him from the\nDiet at Augsburg, left out unfed and untended in the streets, because\nthe people said he should not run up another score with them. With a\nmoderation he would not perhaps have practised in his younger days,\nhe quietly went on his way, to die at Wels on the Trann.\n\nI have often pictured the pale sad face of the old Emperor as he turned\nfrom that sight, and thought of the sickness of his heart as one of\nhistory's most touching lessons of the world's inconstancy. Perhaps\nit predisposed me against Innsbruck; perhaps I was inclined to\nbe a little unjust; but, at all events, it prepared me not to be\nsurprised if its people should prove more sophisticated than their\nfellow-countrymen. It was quite what I expected, therefore, when I\nwas told that in the older inns of the class wherein one generally\nfinds a refreshing hospitality and primitiveness, the absence of\ncomfort was not compensated by corresponding simplicity of manners.\n\nIn the Oesterreichischer Hof, one of those provincial pieces of\npretentiousness which those who travel to learn the characteristics of\na country should, under ordinary circumstances, avoid, we found the\npleasantness of its situation sufficient to make us forget all else;\nand indeed, considered as a copy of a Vienna hotel, it is not a bad\nattempt. There is a room which on Sundays is set apart for an English\nservice. On a subsequent visit we found a large new hotel (Europa),\nrather near the railway station, preferable to it in some respects,\nand there are many others besides.\n\nI have spoken of the pleasant situation, and our apartment was\nsituated so as fully to enjoy it; we had to ourselves a whole suite\nof little rooms, with a separate corridor running along the back of\nthem, from the windows of which we could make acquaintance, under the\nalternating play of sunshine, moonbeam, or lightning, with the range\nof mountains which wall in Tirol. The Martinswand and Frauh\u00fctt, with\ntheir romantic memories; the Seegruben-spitze and the Kreuz-spitze,\nrugged and wild; the grand masses of the Brandjoch and the lesser\nSolstein, and the greater Solstein already wearing a lace-like veil\nof snow; while the quaint copper cupolaed towers of Innsbruck conceal\nthe Rumerjoch and the Kaisers\u00e4ule; and in the front of the picture,\nthe roofs with their wooden tiles afford a view of the mysteries of\napple-drying, and a thousand other local arts of domestic economy. If\nour furniture was not of the most elegant or abundant, it was all\nthe more in keeping with such wild surroundings.\n\nThe character of the town itself partakes of the same mixture of quaint\npicturesqueness with modern pretension which I have already observed in\nthat of the people and the hotel. The Neustadt, as the chief street is\ncalled, remarkable for its width, tidiness, and good paving, is no less\nso for its old arcades in one part, and the steep gables in another,\nand the monuments of faith which adorn its centre line. At one end\nit is closed in by the stern gaunt mountain, at the other by Maria\nTheresa's triumphal arch. There are other streets again, straight,\nmodern, and uniform; the Museum Strasse, and the Karl Strasse, and the\nLandhaus Gasse, [138] but you soon come to an end of them; and then\nyou find yourself in a suburb of most primitive quality; your progress\narrested, now by the advance of the iron road, now by the placid\ngentle Sill, now by the proudly flowing Inn. The medi\u00e6val history of\nInnsbruck is signalized by a number of fires which destroyed many of\nits antiquities. To the first of these it owes the suggestion that the\ntown needed a water supply, acted upon by Meinhard II., and the monks\nof Wilten, in the formation of the Kleine Sill, which continues still\nas useful as ever; but other fires again and again laid it in ashes,\nso that very little of really old work survives, though there are many\nfoundations of early date, the buildings of which have been again and\nagain rebuilt. The very oldest of these is the monastery of Wilten,\nnow a suburb a little way outside the Triumphpforte, originally the\nseat of the suzerains who created the town.\n\nThe history of its origin is one of the most remarkable myths of\nthe country, and is a very epitome of the history of the conflict of\nHeathendom with Christendom.\n\nThe Romans had found here a flourishing town even in their time,\nand they made of it an important station, calling it Valdidena,\nwhence its present name; coins and other relics of their sojourn are\ncontinually dug out of the soil. Tradition has it, however, that Etzel\n(Attila) laid the city in ruins on his way back from the terrible\nbattle of Chalons. It continued, nevertheless, to be a convenient\nand consequently frequented station of the intercourse between the\nbanks of the Po and the Rhine. When Dietrich von Bern (Theodoric of\nVerona) announced his expedition against Chriemhilde's Garden of\nRoses at Worms, one of the mightiest who responded to his appeal,\nand who did him the most signal service in taking the Rose-garden,\nwas Heime, popularly called Haymon, a giant 'taller and more powerful\nthan Goliath.' Returning in Theodoric's victorious train, he came\nthrough Tirol. As he approached Valdidena he found his passage barred\nby another giant named Thyrsus, living near Zirl, who has left his name\nto the little neighbouring hamlet of Tirschenbach. Thyrsus had heard\nof Haymon's prowess, and as his own had been unchallenged hitherto,\nhe determined to provoke him to combat. Haymon was no less fierce\nthan himself, and scarcely waited for his challenge to rush to the\nattack. But anyone who had looked on would have guessed from the first\nmoment on which side the advantage would fall. Thyrsus was indeed\nterrible of aspect; higher in stature than Haymon, his shaggy hair\ncovered a determined brow; his hardy skin was bronzed by exposure to\nweather and lying on the rocks; his sinews were developed by constant\nuse, and their power attested by the tree torn up by the roots which\nhe bore in his hand for a club; at each footfall the ground shook,\nfor he planted his feet with a sound of thunder, and his stride was\nfrom hill to hill. But Haymon's every movement displayed him practised\nin each art of attack and defence. Less fierce of expression than\nThyrsus, his eyes were ever on the watch to follow every moment\nof his antagonist, and like a wall of adamant he stood receiving\nall his thrusts with a studied patience, giving back none till his\nattacker's strength was well-nigh exhausted. Then he fell upon him\nand slew him. An effigy of the two giants yet adorns the wall of the\nwayside chapel at Tirschendorf.\n\nHaymon was still in the prime of manhood, being about thirty-five,\nand this was but one of his many successful combats. Nevertheless,\nit was destined to be his last, for a Benedictine monk of Tegernsee\ncoming by while he was yet in the first flush of victory, succeeded so\nwell in reasoning with him on the worthlessness of all on which he had\nhitherto set his heart, and on the superior attractions of a higher\nlife, that he then and there determined to give up his sanguinary\ncareer, and henceforth devote his strength to the service of Christ.\n\nIn pursuance of this design he determined to build with his own hands\na church and monastery on the site of the ruined town of Valdidena,\nby the banks of the Sill. With his own hands he quarried the stone\nand felled the timber; but in the meantime the Evil One in the form\nof a huge dragon had taken possession of the place. Never did he let\nhimself be seen; but when he came to lay the foundation, Haymon found\nevery morning that whatever work he had done by day, the dragon had\ndestroyed by night. Then he saw that he must watch by night as well\nas work by day, and by this means he discovered with what manner of\nadversary he had to deal. The dragon lashed the ground with his tail in\nfury, just as the wild wind stirs up the sea, and filled the air with\nthe smoke and sparks he breathed out of his mouth. Haymon saw that\nwith all his strength and science he could not overcome so terrible\nan enemy; nevertheless, he did not lose heart, but commended himself\nto God. Meantime, the streaks of morn began to appear over the sky,\nand at sight of them the dragon turned and fled. Haymon perceived\nhis advantage, and pursued him; by-and-by the rocks bounding the\npath contracted, and at last they came to the narrow opening of a\ncave. As soon as the dragon had got his head in and could not turn,\nHaymon raised his sword with a powerful swing, and calling on God\nto aid his stroke, with one blow severed the monster's head from the\ntrunk. As a trophy of his feat, he cut out the creature's sting, which\nwas full two feet long, and subsequently hung it up in the Sanctuary,\nand something to represent it is still shown in the church of Wilten.\n\nAfter this, the building went on apace; and when it was completed,\nhe took up a huge stone which had been left over from the foundation\nof the building, and flung it with the whole power of his arm. It\nsped over the plain for the space of nearly two miles, till it struck\nagainst the hill of Ambras, and rolled thence down again upon the\nplain, 'where it may yet be seen;' and with all the land between he\nendowed the monastery. Then he called thither a colony of Benedictines\nto inhabit it, and himself lived a life of penance as the lowest among\nthem for eighteen years; and here he died in the year 878. Another\nbenefit which he conferred on the neighbourhood was rebuilding the\nbridge of Innsbruck. [139] Tradition says he was buried on the right\nhand side of the high altar, and even preserves the following rough\nlines as his epitaph:--\n\n\n    Als Tag und Jahr verloffen war\n    Achthundert schon verstrichen\n    Zu siebzig acht hats auch schon g'macht\n    Da Heymons Tod verblichen.\n    Der tapfere Held hat sich erw\u00e4hlt\n    En Kloster aufzuf\u00fchren\n    Gab alles hinein, gieng selbst auch drein,\n    Wollts doch nicht selbst regieren.\n    Hat l\u00f6blich gelebt, nach Tugent gstrebt\n    Ein Spiegel war er allen;\n    Riss hin riss her, ist nicht mehr er,\n    Ins Grab ist er hier g'fallen.\n\n\nMany fruitless searches have been made for his body; the last, in\nthe year 1644, undermined great part of the wall of the church, and\ncaused its fall. The popular belief in the existence of the giants\nHaymon and Thyrsis has found a forcible expression nevertheless in\ntwo huge wooden figures, placed at the entrance of the Minster Church.\n\nThe parish church of Wilten has a more ancient and curious relic in\nthe Mutter Gottes unter den vier S\u00e4ulen, [140] of which it is said,\nthat the Thundering Legion having been stationed at Valdidena about\nthe year 137, had this image with them; that on one occasion of being\nordered on a distant expedition they buried it under four trees,\nand never had the opportunity of recovering it. That when Rathold von\nAiblingen made his pilgrimage to Rome, he brought back with him the\nsecret of its place of concealment, exhumed it, set it up on the altar\nunder a baldachino with four pillars, where it has never ceased to be\nan object of special veneration. This received a notable encouragement\nwhen Friedrich mit der leeren Tasche, wandering in secret through the\ncountry with his trusty Hans von M\u00fcllinen after the ban of the empire\nhad been pronounced against him, knelt before this shrine, and prayed a\nblessing on his unchanging devotion to it. The sequel made him believe\nthat his prayer was heard; and when he was once more established in his\npossessions, he caused himself and his friend to be portrayed kneeling\nat the shrine to seek protection under the fostering mantle of the\nVirgin, and had the picture hung on the wall of the church opposite.\n\nThe name of Innsbruck first occurs in a record of the year 1027,\non occasion of a concession granted to the chapel of S. Jakob in\nder Au--S. James's in the Field--probably the spot on which the\nstately Pfarrkirche now stands. Prior to this, the little settlement\nof inhabitants, whom the commerce between Germany and Italy had\ngathered round the Inn-bridge, could only satisfy the obligation of\nthe Sunday and Holy-day mass by attendance in the church of Wilten;\nnow, the faculty was granted to their own little chapel.\n\nIts situation made it a convenient entrep\u00f4t for many articles of\nheavy merchandise, and, as years went by, a dwelling-place of various\nmerchants also. All this time it was a dependency of the monks of\nWilten. In 1180, Berthold II. von Andechs, acquired from them by\ntreaty certain rights over the prospering town. His successor, Otho\nI., surrounded it with walls and fortifications, and built himself a\nresidence, on the entrance of which was chiselled the date of 1234,\nand the inscription,--\n\n\n    Dies Haus stehet in Gottes Hand\n    Ottoburg ist es genannt.\n\n\nAnd on the same spot, in an old house overlooking the river Inn,\nsome remains of this foundation may be traced, to which the name of\nOttoburg still attaches.\n\nIn 1239 it was treated to the privilege of being the only d\u00e9p\u00f4t\nfor goods between the Ziller and the Melach; other concessions\nfollowed, maintaining its ever-rising importance. In 1279 Bruno,\nBishop of Brixen, consecrated a second church, the Morizkapelle, in\nthe Ottoburg. But though both its temporal and spiritual lords appear\nto have encouraged its growth by every means in their power, and though\nthere are records of occasional noble gatherings within its precincts,\nit was not till after the cession of Tirol to Austria by Margaretha\nMaultasch that the convenience of its central situation, and its water\ncommunication by the Inn and Danube with other towns of the empire,\nsuggested its adoption as the seat of government of the country.\n\nThe fidelity of the towns-people to Duke Rudolf IV. of Austria at\nthe time of a Bavarian invasion, elicited a further outpouring of\nprivileges from their ruler, putting beyond all dispute in a short\ntime the priority of Innsbruck over all the towns of Tirol.\n\nFriederich mit der leeren Tasche made it his residence, and his base of\noperations for reducing the Rottenburgers and other powerful nobles,\nwho during the late unsettled condition of the government had set\nat naught his power and oppressed the people. In this he received\nthe warmest support of the Innsbruckers, which he in turn repaid by\ngranting all their wishes.\n\nThe singular loyalty of the Tirolese, and their good fortune in\nhaving been generally blessed with upright and noble-minded rulers,\nmake their annals read like a continuous heroic romance. The deeds\nof their princes have for centuries been household words in every\nmountain home of Tirol. None have had a deeper place in their hearts\nthan the fortunes of Friedl, and never was any man more fortunate in\nhis misfortunes. Before they yet knew what manner of prince he was,\nthe ban of the empire had made him a penniless wanderer. Reduced to\na condition lower than their own, the peasants wherever he passed\ngathered round him, and swore to stand by him, and concealed his\nhiding-places with the closest fidelity. One night he came weary and\nwayworn to Bludenz in Vorarlberg, seeking shelter before the impending\nstorm. The night-watch had the closest orders to beware of strangers,\nfor an incursion of the imperial army was expected, and every stranger\nmight be a spy; no entreaty of Friedl on his friend Hans could shake\nhis obedience to orders. When the Prince declared who he was, the man\nsaid, 'Would it were Friedl indeed!' but added that he would not be\ntaken in by the pretence, however well devised. At last the outcast\nobtained from him that he would send for an innkeeper to whom he was\nknown. Mine host at once recognised his sovereign, and received him\nwith joy. The Thorw\u00e4chter trembled when he found what he had done,\nbut Frederick commended his steadfastness heartily, and invited him to\ndine at his table next day. While he was here, the Emperor summoned the\nburghers to give up his prisoner; but the Bludenzers sent answer that\n'they had sworn fealty to Duke Frederick and the House of Austria,\nand they would not break their oath.' This spirited reply would\nprobably have brought an army to their gates had Frederick remained\namong them; but in order to save them from an attack, for which they\nwere little prepared, he took his departure,--by stealth, or they\nwould not have suffered him to depart, even for their own safety's\nsake. At other times he would earn his day's food by manual labour\nbefore he disclosed to his entertainers who he was, and then he would\nonly partake of the same frugal fare, and the same hard lodging,\nas the peasants who received him. By these means he became deeply\nendeared to the people, who thus knew he was one who felt for their\nprivations, and shared their feelings and opinions, and did not treat\nthem with supercilious contempt like one of the nobles.\n\nWhen by these wanderings Frederick had discovered how deeply the\npeople loved him, he arranged with the owner of the Rofnerhof in the\nOetztal a plan by which, on occasion of a great fair at Landeck,\nalways crowded by people from all the country round, he appeared\nin the character of principal actor in a peasant-comedy, which set\nforth the sufferings of a prince driven from his throne by cruel\nenemies, wandering homeless among his people, then calling them to\narms, and leading them to victory. The excitement of the people at\nthe representation exceeded his highest expectations. Loud sobs and\ncries accompanied his description of the Prince's woes; but when he\ncame to sing of the people following their prince's call to arms,\ntheir ardour became quite irresistible. The enthusiasm was contagious;\nFrederick could no longer contain himself; he threw off his disguise,\nand declared himself their Friedl. It needed no more; unbidden they\nproffered their allegiance and their vows to defend his rights to\nthe last drop of their blood. The enthusiasm of the Landeckers soon\nspread over the whole country; and when the Emperor Sigismund and\nErnst der Eiserne and Frederick's other foes found his people were as\nfirm as their own mountains in his defence, they gave up the attempt\nat further persecution, and concluded a truce with him.\n\nIn his prosperity he did not forget the peasants who had stood by him\nso loyally. While he tamed the power of their oppressors, he did all\nhe could to lighten their burdens; and to many, who had rendered him\nspecial service, he marked his gratitude by special favours. Thus, to\nRuzo of the Rofnerhof he granted among other privileges the right of\nasylum on his demesne, which was put in use down to the year 1783. We\nhave already seen his conflict with Henry of Rottenburg, [141] and\nin the same way he tamed the overgrown power of other nobles. In the\ncourse of our wanderings we shall often find the popular hero's name\nstored up in the people's lore.\n\nIn connection with Innsbruck, he is well known to the most superficial\ntourist as the builder of the Goldene Dachl-geb\u00e4ude.\n\nAnd what is the goldene Dachl-Geb\u00e4ude?--It is a most picturesque\naddition to, and almost all remaining of, what in his time was the\nF\u00fcrstenburg, or princely palace, having a roof of shining gilt copper\ntiles, sufficiently low to be in sight of the passer-by; but the\naccount the best English guide-book gives the tourist of its origin\nis so wanting in the true appreciation of Friedl's character, that I\nam fain to supply the Tirolese version of it. The above account says\nthat it was built in 1425 'by Frederick, called in ridicule \"Empty\nPurse,\" who, in order to show how ill-founded was the nickname, spent\nthirty thousand ducats on this piece of extravagance, which probably\nrendered the nickname more appropriate than before.' Now, to say that\nhe was called 'Empty Purse' thus vaguely would imply that it was a name\ngiven by common consent, and generally adopted. To say that he built\nthe Golden Roof only to show that such a nickname was ill-founded,\nis simply to accuse him of arrogance. To treat it as an extravagance\nwhich justified the accusation, is to convict him of folly.\n\nBut the government of Frederick [142]--which is felt even yet in the\npresent independent spirit of Tirol, which consolidated the country\nand made it respected, which set up the dignity of the Freihof and\nthe Schildhof the foundation of a middle class as a dam against the\nencroachments of the nobility on the peasantry, which yet lives on in\nthe hearts of the people, was an eminently prudent administration,\nand the story does not fit it. If, instead of resting satisfied\nwith this compendious but flippant account, you ask the first true\nTirolese you meet to expound it, he will tell you that Friedl had\ngrown so familiar with peasant life that he despoiled himself to\nbetter the condition of his poorer subjects, not only by direct means,\nbut by his expeditions in their defence, and also in forbearing to\nexact burdensome taxes. The nickname was not given him by general\nconsent; nor at all, by the people; it was the cowardly revenge of\nthose selfish nobles who could not appreciate the abnegation of his\ncharacter. Frederick saw in it a reproach, offered not so much to\nhimself as to his people; it seemed to say that the people who loved\nhim so well withheld the subsidies which should make him as grand as\nother monarchs. To disprove the calumny, and to show that his people\nenabled him to command riches too, he made this elegant little piece of\ndisplay, which served also to adorn his good town of Innsbruck; but he\ndid not on that account alter his frugal management of his finances;\nso that when he came to die, though he had made none cry out that he\nhad laid burdens on them, he yet left a replenished treasury. [143]\n\nThis is still one of the notable ornaments of Innsbruck. The house\nis let to private families, but the 'gold-roofed' Erker, or oriel,\nis kept up as a beloved relic almost in its original condition. There\nis a curious old fresco within, the subject of which is disputed; and\non the second floor there is a sculptured bas-relief, representing\nMaximilian and his two wives, Mary of Burgundy and Maria Bianca\nof Milan, and the seven coats of arms of the seven provinces under\nMaximilian's government.\n\nSigismund 'the Monied,' Frederick's son and successor (1430-93),\nis more chargeable with extravagance, [144] but his extravagance\nwas all for the advantage of Innsbruck. The reception he gave to\nChristian I., King of Denmark, when on his way to Rome, is a striking\nillustration of the resources of the country in his time. Sigismund\nwent out to meet him at some miles' distance from the capital, with\na train of three hundred horses, all richly caparisoned; his consort\n(Eleanor of Scotland) followed with her suite in two gilt carriages,\nand surrounded by fifty ladies and maidens on their palfreys. The\nKing of Denmark stayed three days; every day was a festival, and\nthe magnificent dresses of the court were worthy of being specially\nchronicled. There seems to have been no lack of satin and velvet and\nermine, embroidery, and fringes of gold-work.\n\nNor was mental culture neglected; for we find mention, at the same\ndate, of public schools governed by 'a rector,' which would seem to\nimply that they had something beyond an elementary character. The\nimpulse given to commerce by the working of the silver-mines also had\nthe effect of causing some of the chief roads of the country to be made\nand improved. The most lasting traces of Sigismund's reign, however,\nare the ruined towers which adorn the mountain landscapes. Wherever\nwe go in Tirol, we come upon some memory of his expensive fancy\nfor building isolated castles as a pied \u00e0 terre for his hunting and\nfishing excursions, still distinguished by such names as Sigmundskron,\nSigmundsfried, Sigmundslust, Sigmundsburg, Sigmundsegg, and which we\nshall have occasion to notice as we go along. His wars were of no\ngreat benefit to the country, but his command of money enabled him\nto include Vorarlberg within his frontier. Sigismund was, however,\nentirely wanting in administrative qualities. This deficiency helped\nout his extravagance in dissipating the whole benefit which might\nhave resulted to the public exchequer from the silver-works of his\nreign; and at last he yielded to the wholesome counsel of abdicating\nin favour of his cousin Maximilian.\n\nMaximilian (1493-1519) is another of the household heroes of\nTirol. Even after he was raised to the throne of empire he still\nloved his Tirolean home, and his residence there further increased the\nimportance of the town of Innsbruck. He built the new palace in the\nRennplatz, called the Burg, which was completed for his marriage with\nMaria Bianca, daughter of Galeazzo Maria Sforza, of Milan. Splendid\nwas the assemblage gathered in Innsbruck for this ceremonial. Three\nyears later it was further astonished by the magnificence of the\nTurkish Embassy; and the discussion of various treaties of peace\nwere also frequently the means of adding brilliancy to the court,\nand prosperity to the town. His other benefits to the city, and\nInnsbruck's unworthy return to him, I have already mentioned in the\nbeginning of this chapter.\n\nMany a fantastic Sage is told of Maximilian in the neighbourhood,\nwhich we shall find in their due places. The fine hunting-ground\nTirol affords was one of its greatest attractions for him; it led him,\nhowever, to introduce certain game-laws, and this was one principal\nelement in bringing about the decline of his popularity in the last\nyears of his life. At his death this disaffection broke out, and caused\none of the most serious insurrectionary movements which have disturbed\nthe even tenour of Tirolese loyalty. To this was added the influence of\nLutheran teaching, the effects of which we have seen in the Zillerthal.\n\nThis spirit of discontent had time to gain ground during the first\nyears of Maximilian's grandson and successor, Charles Quint, whose\nimmensely extended duties drew his attention off from Tirol. Very\nshortly after his accession, however, he made over the German\nhereditary dominions, including Tirol, to his brother Ferdinand,\nwho established his family in this country. His wise administration\nand prudent concessions soon conciliated the people; though severe\nmeasures were also needed, and the year 1529 was signalized in\nInnsbruck by some terrible executions. These were forgotten when, in\nthe year 1531, Charles Quint, returning victorious from Pavia, on his\nway to Augsburg stayed and held court at Innsbruck; Ferdinand met him\non the Brenner pass, and accompanied him to the capital. When Charles\nreached the Burg, Ferdinand's children received him at the entrance;\nand the tenderness with which he greeted and kissed them was remarked\nby the people, on whom this token of homely affection had a powerful\neffect. Electors and princes, spiritual and temporal, came to pay their\nhomage to the Emperor; and Innsbruck was so filled with the titled\nthrong, that the Landtag had to remove its session to Hall. Ferdinand's\nother dominions, and the question of the threatened war with Turkey,\nnecessitated frequent absences from Innsbruck. During one of these\n(in 1534) the Burg was burnt down, and his children were only rescued\nfrom their beds with difficulty. The great Hall, called the goldene\nSaal, and the state bedroom, which was so beautifully ornamented that\nit bore the title of das Paradies, were all reduced to ashes. In 1541\nInnsbruck was once more honoured by a visit of the magnificent Emperor;\nand again, ten years later, he took up his residence there, that he\nmight be near the Session of the Council of Trent. It was while he\nwas living here peacefully in all confidence, and almost unattended,\nthat Maurice, Elector of Saxony, having suddenly joined the Smalkald\nLeague, treacherously attempted to surprise him, marching with a\nconsiderable armed force through pass Fernstein. Charles, who was laid\nup with illness at the time, was enabled by the loyal devotion of the\nTirolese to escape in the night-time and in a storm of wind and rain,\nbeing borne in a litter over the Brenner, and by difficult mountain\npaths through Bruneck into Carinthia. Maurice, baffled in his scheme,\nexercised his vengeance in plundering the imperial possessions, while\nhis followers devastated the peasants' homes, the monastery of Stams,\nand other religious houses that lay in their way. The sufferings of the\nTirolese on this occasion doubtless tended to confirm them in their\naversion for the Lutheran League. Maurice's end was characteristic,\nand the Tirolese, ever on the look-out for the supernatural, were\nnot slow to see in it a worthy retribution for his treatment of\ntheir Emperor. Albert of Brandenburg refused to join in the famous\nTreaty of Passau, subsequently concluded by Maurice and the other\nLutheran leaders with the Emperor. This and other differences led to\na sanguinary struggle between them, in the course of which Maurice\nwas killed in battle at Sieverhausen.\n\nFerdinand the First's reign has many mementos in Innsbruck. He built\nthe Franciscan church, otherwise called the heiligen Kreuzkirche\nand the Hofkirche, which, tradition says, had been projected by his\ngrandfather, Kaiser Max, though there is no written record of the fact;\nand he raised within it a most grandiose and singular monument to him,\nwhich has alone sufficed to attract many travellers to Tirol. The\noriginal object of the foundation of the church seems to have been\nthe establishment of a college of canons in this centre, to oppose\nthe advance of Lutheran teaching. It was begun in 1543, the first\ndesign having been rejected by Ferdinand as not grand enough, and\nconsecrated in 1563. He seems to have been at some pains to find a\ncolony of religious willing to undertake, and competent to fulfil,\nhis requirements; and not coming to an agreement with any in Germany\nor the Netherlands, ultimately called in a settlement of Franciscans\nfrom Trent and the Venetian provinces, consisting of twenty priests\nand thirteen lay-brothers. The chief ornaments of the building\nitself are the ten large--but too slender--red marble columns, which\nsupport the plateresque roof. The greater part of the nave is taken\nup with Maximilian's monument--cenotaph rather, for he lies buried\nat Wiener-Neustadt, the oft-contemplated translation of his remains\nnever having been carried into effect. It was Innsbruck's fault,\nas we have seen, that they were not originally laid to rest there,\nand it is her retribution to have been denied the honour of housing\nthem hitherto. The monument itself is a pile upwards of thirteen feet\nlong and six high, of various coloured marbles, raised on three red\nmarble steps; on the top is a colossal figure, representing the Kaiser\ndressed in full imperial costume, kneeling, his face being directed\ntowards the altar--a very fine work, cast in bronze by Luigi del Duca,\na Sicilian, in 1582. The sides and ends are divided by slender columns\ninto twenty-four fine white marble compartments, [145] setting forth\nthe story of his achievements in lace-like relief. If the treatment of\nthe facts is sometimes somewhat legendary, the details and accessories\nare most painstakingly and delicately rendered, great attention\nhaving been paid to the faithfulness of the costumes and buildings\nintroduced, and the most exquisite finish lavished on all. They were\nbegun in 1561 by the brothers Bernhard and Arnold Abel, of Cologne,\nwho went in person to Genoa to select the Carrara tablets for their\nwork; but they both died in 1563, having only completed three. Then\nAlexander Collin of Mechlin took up the work, and with the aid of a\nlarge school of artists completed them in all their perfection in three\nyears more. Around it stands a noble guard of ancestors historical and\nmythological, cast in bronze, of colossal proportions, twenty-eight\nin number. It is a solemn sight as you enter in the dusk of evening,\nto see these stern old heroes keeping eternal watch round the tomb\nof him who has been called 'the last of the Knights,' der letzte\nRitter. They have not, perhaps, the surpassing merit of the Carrara\nreliefs, but they are nobly conceived nevertheless. For lightness\nof poise, combined with excellence of proportion and delicacy of\nfinish, the figure of our own King Arthur commends itself most to my\nadmiration; but that of Theodoric is generally reckoned to bear away\nthe palm from all the rest. They stand in the following order.\n\nStarting on the right side of the nave on entering, we have:\n\n\n     1. Clovis, the first Christian King of France.\n     2. Philip 'the Handsome,' [146] of the Netherlands, Maximilian's\n        son, reckoned as Philip I. of Spain, though he never reigned\n        there.\n     3. Rudolf of Hapsburg.\n     4. Albert II. the Wise, Maximilian's great-grandfather.\n     5. Theodoric, King of the Ostrogoths. (455-526.)\n     6. Ernest der Eiserne, Duke of Austria and Styria. (1377-1424.)\n     7. Theodebert, Duke of Burgundy. (640.)\n     8. King Arthur of England.\n     9. Sigmund der M\u00fcnzreiche, Count of Tirol. (1427-96.)\n    10. Maria Bianca Sforza, Maximilian's second wife. (Died 1510.)\n    11. The Archduchess Margaret, Maximilian's daughter.\n    12. Cymburgis of Massovica, wife of Ernest der Eiserne. (Died 1433.)\n    13. Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, father of Maximilian's\n        first wife.\n    14. Philip the Good, father of Charles the Bold. Founder of the\n        Order of the Golden Fleece.\n\n\nThis completes the file on the right side; on our walk back down the\nother side we come to--\n\n\n    15. Albert II., Duke of Austria, and Emperor of Germany.\n        (1397-1439.)\n    16. Emperor Frederick I., Maximilian's father. (1415-95.)\n    17. St. Leopold, Margrave of Austria; since 1506 the patron\n        saint of Austria. (1073-1136.)\n    18. Rudolf, Count of Hapsburg, grandfather or uncle of 'Rudolf\n        of Hapsburg.'\n    19. Leopold III., 'the Pious,' Duke of Austria, Maximilian's\n        great-grandfather; killed at Sempach, 1439.\n    20. Frederick IV. of Austria, Count of Tirol, surnamed 'mit der\n        leeren Tasche.'\n    21. Albert I., D. of Austria, Emperor. (Born 1248; assassinated\n        by his nephew John of Swabia, 1308.)\n    22. Godfrey de Bouillon, King of Jerusalem in 1099.\n    23. Elizabeth, wife of the Emperor Albert II., daughter of\n        Sigismund, King of Hungary and Bohemia. (1396-1442.)\n    24. Mary of Burgundy, Maximilian's first wife. (1457-82.)\n    25. Eleonora of Portugal, wife of the Emperor Frederick III.,\n        Maximilian's mother.\n    26. Cunigunda, Maximilian's sister, wife of Duke Albert IV. of\n        Bavaria.\n    27. Ferdinand 'the Catholic.'\n    28. Johanna, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, and wife of\n        Maximilian's son, Philip I. of Spain.\n\n\nThere is a vast difference in the quality both of the design\nand execution of these statues; the greater number and the more\nartistic were cast by Gregor L\u00f6ffler, who established a foundry\non purpose at B\u00fcchsenhausen; the rest by Stephen and Melchior\nGodl, and Hanns Lendenstreich, who worked at M\u00fchlau, a suburb of\nInnsbruck. All honour is due to them for the production of some of\nthe most remarkable works of their age; but it was some unknown mind,\nprobably that of some humble nameless Franciscan, to whom is due the\nconception and arrangement of this piece of symbolism. It originally\nincluded, besides the statues already enumerated, twenty-three\nothers, of saints, which were to have received a more elevated\nstation, and it is for this reason that they are much smaller in\nsize. They are now placed in the so-called 'Silver Chapel,' and are\ntoo frequently overlooked; but it is necessary to take them into\naccount in order worthily to criticize this great monument. They\nare as follows:--1. St. Adelgunda, daughter of Walbert, Count\nof Haynault. 2. St. Adelbert, Count of Brabant. 3. St. Doda,\nwife of St. Arnulf, Duke of the Moselle. 4. St. Hermelinda,\ndaughter of Witger, Count of Brabant. 5. St. Guy, Duke of\nLotharingia. 6. St. Simpert, Bishop of Augsburg, son of Charlemagne's\nsister Symporiana, who rebuilt the monastery of St. Magnus at\nF\u00fcssen. 7. St. Jodok, son of a king of Great Britain; he wears a\npalmer's dress. 8. St. Landerich, Bishop of Metz, son of St. Vincent,\nCount of Haynault, and St. Waltruda. 9. St. Clovis. 10. St. Oda,\nwife of Duke Conrad. 11. St. Pharaild, daughter of Witger, Count of\nBrabant. 12. St. Reinbert, brother of the last. 13. St. Roland, brother\nof St. Simpert. 14. St. Stephen, King of Hungary. 15. St. Venantius,\nmartyr, son of Theodoric, Duke of Lotharingia. 16. St. Waltruda,\nmother of St. Landerich (No. 8). 17. St. Arnulf, husband of\nSt. Doda (No. 3), afterwards Bishop of Metz. 18. St. Chlodulf,\nson of St. Waltruda (No. 16), also Bishop of Metz. 19. St. Gudula,\nsister of St. Albert, Count of Brabant. 20. St. Pepin Teuto, Duke of\nBrabant. 21. St. Trudo, priest, son of St. Adela. 22. St. Vincent,\nmonk. 23. Richard Coeur-de-Lion. A series of men and women, all more\nor less closely connected with the House of Hapsburg, selected for\nthe alleged holiness of their lives or deeds under one aspect or\nanother. It needs no laboured argument to show the appropriateness\nof thus representing to the life the solidarity of piety and worth in\nthe great hero's earthly family, though a few words may not be out of\nplace to distinguish the characters allied only or chiefly by the ties\nof the great family of chivalry. These are--1. King Arthur (No. 8),\nrepresentative of the mythology of the Round Table. 2. Roland (No. 13\nin the series of the saints), representing the myths of the Twelve\nPeers of France. 3. Theodobert (No. 7), who received a hero's death\nin the plain of Chalons at the hand of Attila, to be immortalized in\nthe Western Nibelungen Myths. 4. Theodoric (No. 5), celebrated as\n'Dietrich von Bern' in the Eastern. 5. Godfrey de Bouillon (No. 22),\nrepresenting the legendary glory of the Crusades. [147]\n\nThe two other statues, of a later date--St. Francis and St. Clare--are\nby Moll, a native of Innsbruck, who became a sculptor of some\nnote at Vienna. The picture of St. Anthony over the altar of the\nConfraternity of St. Anthony, on the Epistle side of this church, has\na great reputation among the people, because it remained uninjured\nin a fire which in 1661 burnt down the church of Zirl, where it was\noriginally placed. [148] Five years later it was brought hither for\ngreater honour, and was let into a larger painting by Jele of Vienna,\nrepresenting a multitude of sick and suffering brought by their friends\nto pray for healing before it. There is not much else in this church\nthat is noteworthy (besides 'the Silver Chapel,' which belongs to\nthe notice of Ferdinand II.). What there is may be mentioned in a few\nlines, namely--the F\u00fcrstenchor, or tribune for the royal family, high\nup on the right side of the chancel, with the adjoining little chapel\nand its paintings, and cedar-wood organ, the gift of Julius II. to\nFerdinand I.; the quaint old clock; and the memory that Queen Christina\nof Sweden made her abjuration here 28th October 1655. Her conduct on\nthe occasion was, according to local tradition, most edifying. She\nwas dressed plainly in black silk, with no other ornament than a\nlarge cross on her breast, with five sparkling diamonds to recall the\nglorious Wounds of the Redeemer. The emphasis with which she repeated\nthe Latin profession of faith after the Papal nuncio did not pass\nunnoticed. The Ambrosian Hymn was sung at the close of the ceremony,\nand the church bells and town cannon spoke the congratulations of\nthe Innsbruckers on this and the subsequent days of her stay among\nthem. Among other tokens of gladness, several mystery plays (which\nare still greatly in vogue in Tirol) were represented. Another public\nceremony of her stay was the translation of Kranach's Madonna, the\nfavourite picture of Tirol, brought to it by Leopold V. The original\naltar-piece of the Hofkirche, by Paul Troger--the Invention of the\nCross--was removed by Maria Theresa to Vienna, because the figure of\nthe Empress Helena was counted a striking likeness of herself.\n\nThe introduction of the Jesuits into Tirol, and the subsequent\nbuilding of the Jesuitenkirche in Innsbruck, and the labours of\nB. Peter Canisius among the people, was also the work of Ferdinand\nI. The peaceful prosperity which his wise government procured for the\ncountry, while wars and religious divisions were distracting the rest\nof Europe, gave opportunity for the development of its literature\nand art-culture. [149]\n\nOne melancholy event of his reign was the outbreak in its last year, of\na terrible epidemic, which committed appalling ravages. All who could,\nincluding the royal family, escaped to a distance; and those who had\nbeen stricken with it were removed to the Siechenhaus, and isolated\nfrom the rest of the population. As has frequently happened on similar\noccasions, the dread of the malady operated to deprive the sick of the\nhelp of which they stood in need. It was when the plague raged highest,\nand the majority were most absorbed with the thought of securing their\nown safety, that a poor woman of the people, named Magaretha Hueber,\nrising superior to the vulgar terror, took upon herself cheerfully the\nmanagement of the desolate Siechenhaus. The example of her courage was\nall that was needed to bring out the Christian confidence and charity\nof the masses; and to her devotion was owing not only the relief of\nthe plague-stricken, but the moral effect of her spirit and energy\nwas also not without its fruit in staying the havoc of the contagion;\nand she is still remembered by the name of die fromme Siechen.\n\nShortly before his death (which happened in 1564), Ferdinand had his\nsecond son, Ferdinand II., publicly acknowledged in the Landtag of\nInnsbruck, Landesf\u00fcrst of Tirol. His own affection for the country\nhad prevented him from suffering its interests to be ever neglected\nby the pressure of his vast rule; and now when his great age warned\nhim that he would be able to watch over it no longer, he determined\nto give it once more the benefit of an independent government.\n\nFerdinand II. seems to have had all the excellent administrative\nqualities of his father in the degree necessary for his restricted\nsphere of dominion. His disposition for the culture of peaceful arts\nwas promoted by the happiness of his family life. The story of his\nearly love, and his marriage in accordance with the dictates of his\nheart, in an age when matrimonial alliances were too often dictated by\npolitical considerations alone, have made one of the romances dearest\nto the popular mind. The natural retribution of a disturbance of the\nregular succession to the throne followed, but with Tirol's usual\ngood fortune the consequences did not prove disastrous, as we shall\nsee later on.\n\nSituated at the distance of a pleasant hour's walk from Innsbruck,\nand forming an exceedingly picturesque object in the views from it,\nis Schloss Ambras, in ancient times one of the chief bulwarks of the\nInnthal. Ferdinand I. bought it of the noble family of Schurfen at\nthe time when he nominated his son to the government of the country,\nand it always remained Ferdinand II.'s favourite residence. Hither he\nbrought home the beautiful Philippine Welser, whose grace and modesty\nhad won his heart at first sight, as she leant forward from her turret\nwindow to cast her flowery greeting at the feet of the Emperor Charles\nQuint when he came into Augsburg, and the young and handsome prince\nrode by his side. Philippine had been betrothed by her father to the\nheir of the Fugger family, the richest and most powerful of Augsburg;\nbut her eyes had met Ferdinand's, and that one glance had revealed to\nboth that their happiness lay in union with each other. Fortunately\nfor Philippine she possessed in her mother a devoted confidant and\nally. True, Ferdinand could not rest till he had obtained a stolen\ninterview with her; but the true German woman had confidence in the\nhonour and virtue of the reigning House, and the words Philippine,\nwho was truth itself, reported were those of true love, which knows no\nshame. Nevertheless, the Fugger was urgent, and old Welser--a sturdy\nupholder of his family tradition for upright dealing--never, they knew,\ncould be brought to be wanting to his word. The warm love of youth,\nhowever, is ever a match for the steady calculation of age. While the\nfathers Welser and Fugger were counting their money-bags, Ferdinand\nhad devised a plan which easily received the assent of Philippine's\naffection for him, the rather that her mother, for whom a daughter's\nhappiness stood dearer than any other consideration, gave it her\ncountenance and aid. At an hour agreed, Ferdinand appeared beneath the\nturret where their happiness was first revealed to them; at a little\ndistance his horses were in waiting. Not an instant had he to wait;\nPhilippine, already fortified by her mother's farewell benediction,\njoined him ere a pang of misgiving had time to enter his mind, an\nold and trusted family servant accompanying her. Safely the fugitives\nreached the chapel, where a friendly priest--Ferdinand's confessor,\nJohann Cavaller\u00fcs--waited to bless the nuptials of the devoted pair,\nthe old servant acting as witness. Old Franz Welser was subsequently\ninduced to give his approval and paternal benediction; and if his\nburgher pride was wounded by his daughter marrying into a family which\nmight look down upon her connexions, he had the consoling reflection\nthat he was able to give her a dowry which many princes might envy;\nand also in the discovery of a friendly antiquary, that even his\nlineage, if not royal, was not either to be despised, for it could\nbe traced up to the same stock which gave Belisarius to the Empire!\n\nFerdinand's marriage was, I believe, never known to his father; though\nthere are stories of his being won over to forgive it by Philippine's\ngentle beauty and worth, but these are probably referable to the\nsucceeding Emperor. However this may be, the devoted pair certainly\nlived for some time in blissful retirement at Ambras; and after his\nbrother, Maximilian II., had acknowledged the legality of Ferdinand's\nmarriage--on the condition that the offspring of it should never\nclaim the rank of Archdukes of Austria--Ambras, which had been their\nfirst retreat, was so endeared to them, that they always loved to\nlive there better than anywhere else. There were born to them two\nsons--Karl, who afterwards became a Cardinal and Bishop of Brixen;\nand Andreas, Markgrave of Burgau, to whom Ferdinand willed Ambras,\non condition that he should maintain its regal beauties, and preserve\nundiminished the rich stores of books and rare manuscripts, coins,\narmour, objects of vert\u00f9, and curiosities of every sort which it had\nbeen the delight of his and Philippine's leisure hours to collect. This\ntestamentary disposition the son judged would be best carried out by\nselling the place to the Emperor Rudolf II. in 1606; and Ambras has\naccordingly ever since been reckoned a pleasure-seat of the imperial\nfamily. The unfortunate love of centralization, more than the fear of\nforeign invasion, which was the ostensible pretext, deprived Tirol\nof these treasures. They were removed to Vienna in 1806, where they\nmay be visited in the Belvedere Palace, the promise of restoring them,\noften made, not having yet been fulfilled. Among the remnants that are\nleft, are still some tokens of Ferdinand's taste and genius, and some\ntouching memorials of thirty years of happiness purer and truer than\nhad often before been combined with the enjoyment of power. There are\nsome pieces of embroidery, with which Philippine occupied her lonely\nhours while Ferdinand's public duties obliged him to be away from her,\namong them a well-executed Crucifixion; and some natural curiosities in\nthe shape of gnarled and twisted roots, needing little effort of the\nimagination to convert into naturally--perhaps supernaturally--formed\ncrucifixes, and which they had doubtless found pleasure in unearthing\nin the woods round Ambras. At the time of my visit the private chapel\nwas being very well restored, and some frescoes very fairly executed\nby Wienhold, a local artist who has studied in Rome. There is still\na small collection of armour, and a suit of clothes worn by a giant\nin the suite of Charles Quint, which would appear to have belonged\nto a man near eight feet high; also some portraits of the Hapsburg\nfamily and other rulers of Tirol; among them Margareta Maultasch,\nwhich, if it be faithful, disproves the story deriving her name from\nthe size of her mouth; but of this I shall have occasion to speak\nlater. Inglis mentions that among the relics is a piece of the tree\non which Judas hanged himself, but it was not shown to me.\n\nThe people, whose own experience fixes the law of suffering in\ntheir minds, will have it that these years of tranquil joy were not\nunalloyed; but that Philippine's mother-in-law embittered them by\nher jealous bickerings and reproaches, and that these in the end\nled her to make a sacrifice of her life to the exigencies of her\nhusband's glory. The bath is yet pointed out at Ambras where she is\nsaid to have bled herself to death to make way for a consort more\nconformable to her husband's birth. All, even local, historians,\nhowever, are agreed in rejecting this tradition. [150] It has served\nnevertheless to endear her to the popular mind, for whom she is still\na model of domestic virtues no less than a type of beauty. Scarcely\nis there a house in Tirol that is not adorned by her image. Among\nother traditions of her personal perfections, it is fabled that her\nskin was so delicate that the colour of the red wine could be seen\nsoftly opalized as it passed her slender throat. [151]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nNORTH TIROL--THE INNTHAL.\n\nINNSBRUCK (continued).\n\n\n                            Ora conosce come s'innamora\n                            Lo Ciel del giusto rege, et al sembiante\n                            Del suo fulgore il fa vedere ancora.\n\n                                           Dante Paradiso, xx. 63. [152]\n\n\nAnother local tradition of Ambras attaches to a spot where Wallenstein,\nwhile a page in the household of Ferdinand and Philippine, fell\nunharmed from the window of the corridor leading to the dining-hall,\nmaking in the terrible moment a secret vow to the Blessed Virgin\nof his conversion if he escaped with life, which hastened the work\nbegun doubtless by Philippine's devout example and teaching. There\nis another, again, more marvellous still, and dated from an earlier\nperiod, and shortly before the purchase of the castle by the reigning\nfamily. It is said that Theophrastus Paracelsus, of whom many weird\nstories are told, was at one time sojourning at Innsbruck--where,\nanother tradition has it, he died--and in the course of his wanderings\nin search of plants of strange healing powers, came to this outlying\nand then neglected castle. A peasant woman seeing him pass her cottage\nweary and footsore, asked him to come in and rest and taste her\nfreshly-baked cakes, of which the homely odour scented the air. The\nman of strange science thanked her for her hospitality, and in return\ntouched the tongs upon the hearth with his wonder-working book, and\nbehold the iron was turned into pure gold. The origin of such a legend\nas this is easy to trace; the book of the touch of which such virtue\nis fabled, plainly represents the learning of the studious savant,\nwhich brought him, as well as fame, pecuniary advantage, enabling him\nto astonish the peasants with payment in the precious metal not often\nseen by them. But there are many others told of him, the details of\nwhich are more complicated, and wander much further from the outline\nof fact. The way in which he became possessed of his wonder-working\npower is thus accounted for. [153] One Sunday morning, when he was\nafter his custom wandering in search of plants in a forest on the\nheights not far from Innsbruck, he heard a voice calling him out of a\ntree. 'Who are you?' cried Paracelsus. 'I am he whom men call the Evil\nOne,' answered the voice; 'but how wrong they are you shall judge;\nif you but release me out of this tree you shall see I am not evil\nat all.' 'How am I to set about it?' asked the clever Doctor. 'Only\nlook straight up the stem of the pine opposite you, and you will see\na bung with three crosses on it; all you have to do is to pull it\nout, and I am free; if you do this I will show you how good I am by\ngiving you the two things you most desire, an elixir which shall turn\nall to gold, and another which shall heal every malady.' Paracelsus,\nlured by the tempting promise, pulled out the bung, and straightway\nan ugly black spider crawled out of the hole, and quickly transformed\nitself into an old man wrapped in a scarlet mantle. The demon kept his\nword, and gave the Doctor the promised phials, but immediately began\nthreatening the frightful vengeance he would wreak on the exorcist\nwho had confined him in the tree. Paracelsus now blamed himself\nfor his too ready confidence in the character the demon had given\nhimself for goodness, and bethought him of a means of playing on the\nimp's vanity. 'What a knowing man that same exorcist must be,' said\nParacelsus, 'to turn a tall powerful fellow like you into a spider,\nand then drive you into a tree.' 'Not a bit of it,' replied the imp,\npiqued, 'he couldn't have done anything of the sort, it was all my\nown doing.' 'Your own doing!' exclaimed Paracelsus, with a mocking\nlaugh. 'Is that likely? I have heard of people being transformed by\nsome one of greater power than themselves, never by their own.' 'You\nshall see, though,' said the provoked imp; and with that he quickly\nresumed the form of a spider, and crawled back into the hole. [154]\nParacelsus, it may well be imagined, lost no time in replacing the\nbung, on which he cut three fresh crosses to renew the spell; and\nnever can he again be released, for it was agreed never to cut down\nthis forest on account of the protection it afforded to the country\nagainst the avalanches.\n\nBut, it may be asked, the wonder-working phials once vouchsafed to\nmen, would surely be taken good care of. There is a legend to provide\nfor that too. [155] When the other doctors of Innsbruck found that\nParacelsus so far exceeded them in skill, they determined to poison\nhim. Paracelsus had knowledge of their plot by his arts, he knew too\nthat there was only one remedy against the poison they had adopted,\nand he shut himself up, telling his servant not to disturb him for\nfive days. At the end of the fourth day, however, the curious servant\ncame into his room and broke the spell. Paracelsus had employed a\nwonder-working spider to draw out the poison, which it would have done\nin the course of five days. Disturbed on the fourth, Paracelsus knew\nhe must die. Determined that the jealous members of his profession\nshould not profit by their crime, he sent his servant with the two\nphials and bid him stand in the middle of the Inn-bridge and throw\nthem into the river. Where they fell into the river the water was\nstreaked with molten gold.\n\nIt remains to call attention to the splendid and truly Tirolean\npanoramic view from the pretty terrace of Ambras, with its luxuriant\ntrellis of passion-flower and 'virgin vine.' Overhanging the village\nof Ambras is the so-called Tummelplatz, where in the lifetime of\nFerdinand and Philippine, many a gay tournament was held, but since\nused as a burying-place; first for the military hospital, to which\nthe castle was at one time devoted--and some seven or eight thousand\npatriots were interred here between 1796 and 1810--and afterwards\nfor those who fell successfully resisting the Italian invasion of 1859.\n\nWhatever was the manner of Philippine's death, it was bitterly lamented\nby Ferdinand, who found the usual refuge of human grief in raising a\nsplendid monument to her memory, in the so-called Silberne Kapelle in\nthe Hofkirche. The chapel had been built by him to satisfy her devotion\nto the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception; and in her lifetime was\nso called from the solid silver image of the Blessed Virgin, and the\nbas-reliefs of the mysteries of the rosary in the same metal over the\naltar, itself a valuable ebony carving. She had loved to pray there,\nand it accordingly formed a fitting resting-place for her mortal\nremains. Her effigy in marble over her altar-shaped tomb is a figure\nof exceeding beauty, and is ascribed to Alexander Collin; it stands\nunder a marble canopy. The upright slab is of white marble, carved\nin three compartments; the centre one bearing a modest inscription,\nand the other two, subjects recording her charity to the living and the\ndead; the outline of the town of Innsbruck, as it appeared in her day,\nforms the background. By his desire Ferdinand was buried near her;\nhis monument is similarly sunk in the thickness of the wall, which is\nadorned with shields carved in relief, bearing the arms of his house\npainted with their respective tinctures; and on the tomb are marble\nreliefs, setting forth (after the manner of those on Maximilian's\ncenotaph) the public acts of his life. This chapel came to be used\nafterwards for Italian sermons by the consorts of subsequent rulers\nof Tirol, many of whom were Italians.\n\nIn 1572 Innsbruck was visited by a severe shock of earthquake, which\noverthrew many buildings, and so filled the people with alarm, that\ntemporary wooden huts were built in the open field where they took\nrefuge. Ferdinand and Philippine had recourse to the same means of\nsafety; and while living thus, their only daughter, Anna Eleonora,\nwas born. In thanksgiving for this favour, and for the cessation\nof the panic, the royal pair vowed a pilgrimage to Seefeld, [156]\nwhich they accomplished on foot, accompanied by their sons; above\ntwo thousand Innsbruckers following them. The general sentiment\nof gratitude was further testified by the enactment on the part\nof Ferdinand, and the glad acceptance on the part of the people,\nof various rules of devotion, which have gone to form the subsequent\nhabits of the people. Three years of dearth succeeded the earthquake,\nand were accepted by the pious ruler and people as a heavenly warning\nto lead them to increased faith and devotion. Many Lutheran books\nwhich had escaped earlier measures against them were spontaneously\nbrought forward and burnt; special devotion to the Blessed Sacrament\nwas promoted, Ferdinand himself setting the example; for whenever he\nmet the Viaticum on the way to the sick, whether he was in a carriage\nor on horseback, he never failed to alight and kneel upon the ground,\nwhatever might be its condition. This was indeed a special tradition of\nhis house; it is told of Rudolf of Hapsburg, that one day as he was out\nhunting, a furious storm came on, soon swelling the mountain torrents\nand sweeping away paths and bridges. On the brink of a raging stream,\nwhich there was no means of crossing, stood a priest, weather-bound on\nhis way to carry the last sacrament to a dying parishioner. Rudolf\nrecognised the sound of the bell, and directed his steps by its\nleading to pay his homage to the 'hochw\u00fcrdigste Gut.' He no sooner\nlearned the priest's difficulty than he dismounted, and offered him\nhis own horse. When the priest brought the animal back next day, the\npious prince told him he could not think of himself again crossing a\nhorse which had been honoured by having borne his Lord and Redeemer,\nand begged him to keep it for the future service of religion.\n\nWhile Philippine's relations never sought to overstep the limits which\nimperial etiquette had set them, Ferdinand seems to have treated them\nwith kind cordiality. An instance of this was the magnificence with\nwhich he celebrated the marriage of her nephew, Johann von Kolourat,\nwith her maid-of-honour, Katarina von Boimont, in 1580: the 'Neustadt'\nor principal street afforded space for tournaments and races which\nlasted many days, and attracted the remaining votaries of chivalry\nfrom all parts of Europe. The festivities were closed by a splendid\npageant, in which Ferdinand took part as 'Olympian Jove.'\n\nIn 1582 Ferdinand married Anna Katharina Gonzaga, daughter of the Duke\nof Mantua, who was no less pious than Philippine. The marriage was\ncelebrated at Innsbruck with great pomp. She was the first to introduce\nthe Capuchin Order into Germany. Some discussion in the general chapter\nof the Order preceded the decision which allowed the monks to accept\nthe consequences of being exposed to a colder climate than that to\nwhich they had been used. The first stone of their monastery was laid\nby Ferdinand and Anna Katharina in August 1593, at the intersection\nof the Universit\u00e4ts-gasse and the Sill-gasse. Ferdinand died the\nfollowing year, regretted by all the people, but by none more than by\nAnna Katharina, who passed the remainder of her days in a convent she\nhad founded at Innsbruck. She died in 1621, and desired the following\ninscription to be put on her tomb:--'Miserere mei Domine dum veneris\nin novissimo die.'\n\nThe warning of the disastrous years 1572-4 was further turned\nto practical account by Ferdinand in his desire to relieve the\ndistress of the peasants. In the first months of threatening famine\nhe bought with his own means large stores of grain in Hungary and\nItaly, and opened dep\u00f4ts in various parts of Tirol, where it was\nsold at a reasonable price. To provide a means of earning money for\nthose who were shut out of their ordinary labour, he laid out or\nimproved some of the most important high roads; he likewise exerted\nhimself in every way to promote the commerce of the country. His\nreign conferred many other benefits on the people. Many laws were\namended and brought in conformity with the altered circumstances of\nthe age; the principle of self-taxation was established, and other\nmeasures enacted which it does not belong to my present province to\nparticularise. He introduced also the use of the Gregorian Calendar,\nand gave great encouragement to the cultivation of letters. It was\nby his care that the most authentic MSS. of the Nibelungen poems and\nother examples of early literature were preserved to us.\n\nAs Ferdinand had no children by Anna Katharina, and those of Philippine\nwere not allowed to succeed, [157] the rule over Tirol went back at\nhis death to the Emperor Rudolf II., Maximilian's eldest son. In 1602,\nhowever, he gave over the government to his brother Maximilian, who\nis distinguished by the name of the Deutschmeister. Tirol was again\nfortunate in her ruler; Maximilian was as pious and prudent a prince\nas his predecessors. He promoted the educational establishments\nof the town, and was a zealous opponent of religious differences;\nhe brought in the Order of Servites to oppose the remaining germs\nof Lutheran teaching; the church and monastery at the end of the\nNeustadt being built for them by Katharina Maria. There are some\npictures in the church by Theophilus Polak, Martin Knoller, Grasmair,\nand other native artists; and the frescoes on the roof by Sch\u00f6pf\nare worth attention. A fanatic named Paul Lederer, one of the very\nfew Tirol has produced, rose in this reign, and carried away about\nthirty persons to join a kind of sect which he attempted to form;\nin accordance with the laws of the age, he was tried and executed,\nafter which his followers were no more heard of.\n\nMaximilian was much attached to the Capuchins, and built himself\na little hermitage within their precincts, which is still shown,\nwhere he spent all the time he could spare in prayer and meditation;\nfollowing the rule of the monks, rising with them to their night\nOffices, and employing himself at manual labour in the field and\nin the workshop like one of them. His cell is paneled with plain\nwood, the bed and chair are of the most ordinary make, as are the\nink-stand and other necessary articles, mostly his own handiwork;\nit has a window high up in the chancel, whence he could assist at the\nOffices in the church. The Empress Maria Theresa visited it in 1765,\nand seating herself in the stiff wooden chair, exclaimed, 'What men\nour forefathers were!' Another illustrious pilgrim, whose visit is\ntreasured in the memories of the house, was St. Lorenzo of Brindisi,\nwhen on his way to found a house of the Order in Austria. The monks\nbegged of him his Hebrew Bible, his walking-stick, and breviary,\nwhich are still treasured as relics. All the churches of Innsbruck and\nmany throughout Tirol felt the benefit of Maximilian's devotion to the\nChurch. His spirit was emulated by the townspeople, and when the fatal\nepidemic of 1611 ceased its ravages, the burghers of Innsbruck built\nthe Dreiheiligkeitskirche [158] for the Jesuits, as a thank-offering\nthat the plague was stayed.\n\nThe temporal affairs of Tirol received no less attention from\nArchduke Maximilian than the spiritual. With the foresight of a true\nstatesman, he discovered the coming troubles of the Thirty Years' War,\nand resolved that the defences of his country should be in a state\nto keep the danger at a distance from her borders. The fortified\ntowers, especially those commanding the passes into the country,\nwere all overlooked, and plans of them carefully prepared, all the\nfortifications being put in repair. The Landwehr, the living bulwarks,\nthe ready defenders of their beloved mountain Vaterland, attracted his\nstill more special attention, and he furnished them with a regulation\nsuited to the needs of the times. He settled also several outstanding\ndisputes with the Venetians, with Count Arco, and with neighbours over\nthe north and west frontiers; and an internal boundary quarrel between\nthe Bishops of Brixen and Trent. The death of Rudolf II., in 1612, had\ninvested him with supreme authority over the country, and simplified\nhis action in all these matters for the benefit of the commonwealth.\n\nAnother outburst of pestilence occurred in 1611; the old Siechen-haus\nwas not big enough for all the sick, and had no church attached to\nit. Two Jesuits--the professor of theology at their university, and\nKaspar von K\u00f6stlan, a native of Brixen--assisted by a lay-brother,\ndevoted themselves to the service of the sick; their example so\nedified the Innsbruckers, that in their admiration they readily\nprovided the means, at their exhortation, to build a church. Hanns\nZimmermann, Dean of the Burgomasters, bound himself by a vow to see\nto the erection of the building, and from that time it was observed\nthe fury of the pestilence began to diminish. Maximilian bought the\nneighbouring house and appointed it for the residence of the chaplain\nof the Siechen-haus and the doctors. He gave also the altarpiece by\nSt\u00f6tzl, representing the three Pestschutzheiligen, [159] and another\nquaint and curious picture of the plague-genius.\n\nMaximilian died in 1618, and a religious vow having kept him unmarried,\nthe government was transferred to Leopold V., Archduke of Styria,\nagain a most exemplary man. His father was Charles II., son of\nthe Emperor Ferdinand I.; he had originally been devoted to the\necclesiastical state, and nominated Bishop of Strasburg and Passau;\nbut out of regard for the exigencies of the country a dispensation,\nof which I think history affords only two or three other examples,\nwas granted him from Rome. He married the celebrated Claudia de'\nMedici, Duchess of Urbino. Though also Governor of the Low Countries,\nhe by no means neglected the affairs of Tirol. Some fresh attempts of\nLutherans to interfere with its religious unity, as well as to foment\npolitical dissensions, were put down with a resolute hand. Friedrich\nvon Tiefenbach, sometime notorious as a politico-religious leader in\nMoravia, was discovered in a hiding-place he had selected, in the\nwild caves at Pf\u00e4ffers [160] below Chur, and tried and beheaded at\nInnsbruck in 1621. The selection of Innsbruck for the marriage of\nthe Emperor Ferdinand II. with his second wife Eleonora, daughter of\nthe Duke of Mantua, in 1622, revived the splendours of Maximilian's\nreign, for the Emperor stayed there some weeks with all his court;\nthe Landwehr turned out three thousand strong to form his guard of\nhonour. It was the depth of winter, but the bride braved the snow;\nthe Count of Harrach was sent out to meet her on the Brenner Pass with\nsix gilt sledges, and a vast concourse of people. It is recorded that\nthe Emperor wore on the occasion an entirely white suit embroidered\nwith gold and pearls, on his shoulders a short sky-blue cloak lined\nwith cloth of gold, and a diamond chain round his neck. Eleonora,\nmore in accordance with the season, wore a tight-fitting dress of\ncarnation satin embroidered in gold, over it a sable jacket, and a\nhat with a plume of eagles' feathers. The banquet was entirely served\nby young Tirolean nobles. The Emperor's present to his bride was a\npearl parure, costing thirty thousand ducats; and that of the town of\nInnsbruck a purse of eighteen thousand ducats. Leopold was confirmed\nby his imperial brother in the government on this occasion. His own\nmarriage was celebrated with scarcely less state than the Emperor's in\nApril 1626, an array of handsome tents being pitched in the meadows\nof Wilten, where the Landessch\u00fctzen performed many marksmen's feats\nfor the diversion of the company assembled for the ceremonial. This\nincluded the Archbishop of Salzburg, who officiated in the Church\nfunction, one hundred and fifty counts and barons, and three hundred\nof noble blood. The visit of the Grand Duke of Tuscany in 1628,\nand of Ferdinand, King of Hungary and Bohemia, in 1629, were other\nnotable occasions of rejoicing for Innsbruck.\n\nLeopold benefited and adorned the town by the enclosure and planting\nof the Hofgarten, and the bronze equestrian statue of himself, still\none of its chief ornaments; but his memory has been more deeply\nendeared to the people by the present of Kranach's Madonna, which\nthey have copied in almost every church, household, and highway of\nthe country. It is a little picture on panel, very like many of its\ndate, in which the tenderness of devotion beams through and redeems\nall the stiffness of mannerism; but which we are apt to pass, I had\nalmost said by the dozen, in the various galleries of Europe, with no\nmore than a casual glance. With the Tirolese it was otherwise. Their\nfaith-inspired eyes saw in it a whole revelation of Divine mercy\nand love; they gazed on the outpouring of maternal fondness and\nfilial confidence in the unutterable communion of the Mother and the\nSon there portrayed; and deeming that where so much love reigned no\npetition could be rejected, they believed that answers to the frequent\nprayers of faith sent up before it were reaped an hundredfold, [161]\nand the fame of the benefits so derived was symbolized in the title\nuniversally given to the picture, of Mari\u00e4h\u00fclfsbild. [162] Leopold\nbeing in the early part of his reign on a visit to the Elector of\nSaxony, on occasion of one of his journeys between Tirol and the\nLow Countries, and being lost in admiration of his collection of\npictures at Dresden, received from him the offer of any painting he\nliked to select. There were many choice specimens, but the devotional\nconception of this picture carried him away from all the rest, and it\nbecame the object of his selection. He never parted from it afterwards,\nand it accompanied him in all his journeyings. When in Innsbruck, it\nformed the altar-piece of the Hofkapelle, whither the people crowded\nto kindle their devotion at its focus. After the withdrawal of the\nallied French, Swedish, and Hessian troops in 1647, the Innsbruckers,\nin thanksgiving for the success of their prayers before it, built\nthe elegant little circular temple [163] on the left bank of the Inn,\nstill called the Mari\u00e4h\u00fclfskirche, thinking to enshrine it there; but\nFerdinand Karl, who had then succeeded to his father Leopold, could\nnot bear to part with it, and gave them a copy instead, by Paul Schor,\ninserted in a larger picture representing it borne by angels, and the\nnotabilities of Innsbruck kneeling beneath it, the Mari\u00e4h\u00fclfskirche\nbeing introduced into the background landscape. However, the number of\npeople who pressed to approach it was so great that he was in a manner\nconstrained to bestow it on the Pfarrkirche only two or three years\nlater, where it now remains; it was translated thither during Queen\nChristina's visit, as I have mentioned above. It was borne on a car by\nsix white horses, the crowded streets being strewn with flowers. It\nis a small picture, and has been let into a large canvas painted in\nSch\u00f6pf's best manner, with angels which appear to support it, and\nbeneath St. James, patron of the church, and St. Alexius. A centenary\nfestival was observed in memory of the translation by Maria Theresa\nin 1750, when all the precious ex votos, the thank-offerings for many\ngranted prayers, were exposed to view under the light streaming from a\nhundred silver candelabra, the air around being perfumed by the flowers\nof a hundred silver vases. The procession was a splendid pageant, in\nwhich no expense seems to have been spared, the great Empress herself,\naccompanied by her son, afterwards Joseph II., heading it. This was\nrepeated--in a manner corresponding with the diminished magnificence\nof the age--in 1850, the Emperor Ferdinand I., the Empress Anna, and\nother members of the Imperial family, taking their part in it. [164]\n\nThe only remaining act of Leopold's reign which calls for mention\nin connexion with Innsbruck, was the erection of the monument to\nMaximilian the Deutschmeister, in the Pfarrkirche, almost the only one\nthat was spared when the church was rebuilt after the earthquakes of\n1667 and 1689, the others having been ruthlessly used--the headstones\nin building up the walls, the bronze ones in the bell-castings.\n\nLeopold's son, Ferdinand Karl, being under age at the time of\nhis death, in 1632, he was succeeded by his widow, Claudia de'\nMedici, as regent. The troubles of the Thirty Years' War, in which\nLeopold like other German princes had had his chequered share,\nwere yet raging. Claudia was equal to the exigencies of her time and\ncountry. She continued the measures of Maximilian the Deutschmeister\nfor perfecting the defences of the country, and particularly all its\ninlets; and she encouraged the patriotic instincts of the people\nby constantly presiding at their shooting-practice. The Swedish\nforces, after taking Constance, advanced as far as the Valtelin,\nand Tirol was threatened with invasion on both sides at once. By\nher skilful measures, at every rumour of an inroad, the mountains\nbristled with the unerring marksmen of Tirol, securely stationed\nat their posts inaccessible to lowlanders. Nothing was spared to\nkeep up the vigilance and spirit of the true-hearted peasants. By\nthis constant watchfulness she saved the country from the horrors of\nwar, in which almost the whole of the German Empire was at that time\ninvolved. During all this time she was also developing the internal\nresources, and consolidating the administration of the country. Two\nmisfortunes, however, visited Innsbruck during her reign: a terrible\npestilence, and a destructive fire in which the Burg suffered severely,\nthe beautiful chapel of Ferdinand II. being consumed, and the body of\nLeopold, her husband, which was lying there at the time, rescued with\ndifficulty. After this, Claudia spent some little time at Botzen, and\nalso visited Florence. It may be questioned whether the introduction of\nthe numerous Italians about her court was altogether for the benefit\nof Tirol. They brought with them certain ways and principles which\nwere not altogether in accordance with the German character; and we\nhave seen the effect of the jealousies of race in the tragic fate of\nher chancellor Biener. [165]\n\nFerdinand Karl having attained his majority in 1646, Claudia withdrew\nfrom public affairs, and died only two years later. In his reign\nthe introduction of the Italian element at court was apparent in the\ngreater luxury of its arrangements, and in the greater cultivation of\nhistrionic and musical diversions. The establishment of the theatre\nin Innsbruck is due to him. The marriage of his two sisters, Maria\nLeopoldina and Isabella Clara, and the frequent interchange of visits\nbetween him and the princes of Italy, further enlivened Innsbruck. The\nvisit of Queen Christina, [166] of which I have already said enough\nfor my limits, also took place in his reign (1655). Nor did Ferdinand\nKarl give himself up to amusement to the neglect of business, or of\nmore manly pleasures. He maintained all his mother's measures for the\nencouragement of the Scheibenschiessen, and had the satisfaction of\nseeing the departure of the enemy's army from his borders, which was\ncelebrated by the building of Mari\u00e4h\u00fclfskirche. [167] To his love of\nthe national sport of chamois-hunting his death has to be ascribed;\nfor the neglect of an attack of illness while out on a mountain\nexpedition near Kaltern after the wild game, gave it a hold on his\nconstitution, which placed him beyond recovery. His death occurred\nin 1660, at the early age of thirty-four; he left no heir.\n\nHe was succeeded by his only brother, Sigmund Franz, Bishop of Gurk,\nAugsburg, and Trent, who seems to have inherited all his mother's finer\nqualities without sharing her Italianizing tendencies. With a perhaps\ntoo sudden sternness, he purged the court and government of all foreign\nadmixture, and reduced the sumptuous suite of his brother to dimensions\ndictated by usefulness alone. However popular this may have made him\nwith the German population, the ousted Italians were furious; and his\nsudden death--which occurred while, after the pattern of his father,\napplying for a dispensation to marry, in 1665--was by the Germans\nascribed to secret poisoning; his Tuscan physician Agricola having,\nit is alleged, been bribed to perpetrate the misdeed.\n\nTirol now once more reverted to the Empire. Though Leopold I. came to\nInnsbruck to receive the homage of the people on his accession, and a\ngay ceremonial ensued, yet it lost much of its importance by having\nno longer a resident court. While there, however, Leopold had seen\nthe beautiful daughter of Ferdinand Karl's widow, Claudia Felicit\u00e0,\nwho made such an impression upon him, that he married her on the death\nof his first wife. The ceremony was performed in Innsbruck by proxy\nonly; but the dowager-archduchess provided great f\u00eates, in which the\ncity readily concurred, and gave the bride thirty thousand gulden\nfor her wedding present. Claudia Felicit\u00e0, in her state at Vienna,\ndid not forget the good town of Innsbruck; and by her interest with\nher husband, Tirol received a Statthalter in the person of Charles\nDuke of Lotharingia, husband of his sister Eleonora Maria, widow of\nthe King of Poland. Charles took up his residence at Innsbruck; and\nthough he was often absent with the army, the presence of his family\nrevived the gaiety of the town; still it was not like the old days of\nthe court. Charles, however, who had been originally educated for the\necclesiastical state, was a sovereign of unexceptionable principles\nand sound judgment; and he did many things for the benefit of Tirol,\nparticularly in developing its educational establishments. He raised\nthe Jesuit gymnasium of Innsbruck to the character of a university;\nand the privileges with which he endowed it, added to the salubrity\nof the situation, attracted alumni from far and near, who amounted\nto near a thousand in number.\n\nNothing of note occurred in Tirol till 1703--the Duke of Lotharingia\nhad died in 1696--which is a memorable year. The war of the Spanish\nSuccession, at that time, found Maximilian, Elector of Bavaria, and\nsome of the Italian princes, allied with France against Austria--thus\nthere were antagonists of Austria on both sides of Tirol; nevertheless,\nno attack on it seems to have been apprehended; and thus, when a plan\nwas concerted for entering Austria by Carinthia (the actual boundaries\nagainst Bavaria being too well defended to invite an entrance that\nway), and it was arranged that the Bavarian and Italian allies\nshould assist the French in overrunning Tirol, everyone was taken by\nsurprise. Maximilian easily overcame the small frontier garrison. At\nKufstein he met a momentary check, but an accident put the fortress\nin his power. Possessed of this base of operations, he was not long\nin reducing the forts of Rottenburg Scharnitz, and Ehrenberg, and\npossessing himself of Hall and Innsbruck. He now reckoned the country\nhis, and that it only remained to send news of his success to Vend\u00f4me,\nwho had taken W\u00e4lsch-Tirol similarly by surprise and advanced as far\nas Trent, in order to carry out their concerted inroad through the\nPusterthal. So sure of his victory was he, that he ordered the Te\nDeum to be sung in all the churches of Innsbruck.\n\nIn the meantime the Tirolese had recovered from their surprise,\nand had taken measures for disconcerting and routing the invaders;\nthe storm-bells and the Kreidenfeuer [168] rallied every man capable\nof bearing arms, to the defence of his country. The main road over\nthe Brenner was quickly invested by the native sharp-shooters; there\nwas no chance of passing that way. Maximilian thought to elude the\nvigilance of the people by sending his men round by Oberinnthal\nand the Finsterm\u00fcnz. The party trusted with this mission were\ncommanded by a Bavarian and a French officer. They reached Landeck\nin safety, but all around them the sturdy Tirolese were determining\ntheir destruction. Martin Sterzinger, Pfleger or Judge, of Landeck,\nsummoned the Landsturm of the neighbouring districts, and arranged\nthe plan of operation. The enemy were suffered to advance on their\nway unhindered along the steep path, where the rocky sides of the\nInn close in and form the terrible gorge which is traversed by the\nPontlatzerbr\u00fccke; but when they arrived, no bridge was there! The\nmountaineers had been out in the night and cut it down. Beyond\nthis point the steep side afforded no footing on the right bank,\nno means remained of crossing over to the left! The remnants of the\nbridge betrayed what had befallen, and quickly the command was given\nto turn back; in the panic of the moment many lost their footing,\nand rolled into the rapid river beneath. For those even who retained\ntheir composure no return was possible; the heights above were peopled\nwith the ready Tirolese, burning to defend their country. Down came\ntheir shots like hail, each ball piercing its man; those who had\nno arms dashed down stones upon the foe. Only a handful escaped,\nbut at Landeck these were taken prisoners; and there was not one\neven to carry the news to Maximilian. This famous success is still\ncelebrated every year on the 1st of July by a solemn procession.\n\nMaximilian and Vend\u00f4me remained perplexed at hearing nothing from\neach other, and without means of communication; in vain they sent\nout scouts; money could not buy information from the patriotic\nTirolese. Meantime, danger was thickening round each; the Landsturm\nwas out, and every height was beset with agile climbers, armed with\ntheir unerring carbines, and with masses of rock to hurl down on\nthe enemy who ventured along the road beneath them. The Bavarian\nand French leaders in the north and in the south only perceived how\ncritical was their situation just in time to escape from it, and\nthe waste and havoc they had made during their brief incursion was\nrecompensed by the numbers lost in their retreat. The Bavarians held\nKufstein for some time longer, but their precipitate withdrawal from\nall the rest of the country earned for the campaign, in the mouths\nof the Tirolese, the nickname of the Baierische-Rumpel. While brave\narms had been defending the mountain passes, brave hearts of those\nwhose arms were nerved only for being lifted up in prayer, not for\nwar, were day by day earnestly interceding in the churches for the\ndeliverance of their husbands, fathers, and brothers; and when, on the\n26th of July, the land was found free of the foe, it was gratefully\nremembered that it was S. Anne's Day, and the so-called Annens\u00e4ule,\nwhich adorns the Neustadt--the principal thoroughfare of Innsbruck--was\nerected in commemoration.\n\nIt is composed of the marbles of the country; the lower part red, the\ncolumn white, the effigy of the Immaculate Conception, which surmounts\nit and the surrounding rays, in gilt bronze. Round the base stand\nSt. Vigilius and St. Cassian (two apostles of Tirol), and St. Anne\nand St. George; about them float angels, in the breezy style of the\nperiod. The monument was solemnly inaugurated on S. Anne's Day, 1706;\nand every year on that day a procession winds round it from the parish\nchurch, singing hymns of thanksgiving; and an altar, gaily dressed\nwith fresh flowers, stands before it for eight days under the open sky.\n\nLeopold I. died in 1705, and was succeeded by his son, Joseph I.,\nwho reigned only six years. Charles VI., Leopold's younger son,\nfollowed, who appointed Karl Philipp, Palsgrave of Neuburg, Governor\nof Tirol. He was another pious ruler, and much beloved by the people;\nhis memory being the more endeared to them, that he was their last\nindependent prince. His reign benefited Innsbruck by the erection of\nthe handsome Landhaus and the Gymnasium, and also by the extensive\nrestoration of the Pfarrkirche. This occupied the site of the little\nchapel, the accorded privilege to which of hearing in it masses of\nobligation forms the earliest record of Innsbruck's history. It had\ngrown with the growth of the town, and had been added to by various\nsovereigns, and we have seen it gifted with Kranach's Mari\u00e4hilf. The\nearthquakes of 1667 and 1689 had left it so dilapidated, however,\nthat Karl Philipp resolved to rebuild it on a much larger plan. He\nlaid the first stone on May 12, 1717, in presence of his brother,\nthe Bishop of Augsburg, and it was consecrated in 1724. It has\nthe costliness and the vices of its date; its overloaded stucco\nornaments are redeemed by the lavish use of the beautiful marbles\nof the country; the quarrying and fashioning these marbles occupied\na hundred workmen, without counting labourers and apprentices, for\nthe whole time during which the church was building. The frescoes\nsetting forth the wonder-working patronage of St. James, on the roof\nand cupola, are by Kosmas Damian Asam, whose pencil, and that of his\ntwo sons, Kosmas and Egid, were entirely devoted to the decoration\nof churches and religious houses. There is a tradition, that as the\nfervent painter was putting the finishing touches to the figure of the\nsaint, as he appears, mounted on his spirited charger as the patron\nof Compostella, in the cupola, he stepped back to see the effect\nof his work. Forgetting in his zeal the narrowness of the platform\non which he stood, he would inevitably have been precipitated on\nto the pavement below, but that the strong arm of the saint he had\nbeen painting so lovingly, detached itself from the wall, and saved\nhis client from the terrible fate! [169] Other works of this reign\nwere the Strafarbeitshaus, a great improvement on the former prison;\nand the church of St. John Nepomuk, in the Innrain, then a new and\nfashionable street. The canonization of the great martyr to the seal\nof Confession took place in 1730. Though properly a Bohemian saint,\nhis memory is so beloved all through southern Germany, that all its\ndivisions seem to lay a patriotic claim to him. His canonization was\ncelebrated by a solemn function in the Pfarrkirche, lasting eight\ndays; and the people were so stirred up to fervour by its observance,\nthat they subscribed for the building of a church in his honour,\nthe governor taking the lead in promoting it.\n\nMaria Theresa succeeded her father, Charles VI., in 1742. She seems\nto have known how to attend to the affairs of every part of the\nEmpire alike; and thus, while the whole country felt the benefit\nof her wise provisions, all the former splendours of the Tirolean\ncapital revived. Maria Theresa frequently took up her residence at\nInnsbruck; and while benefiting trade by her expenditure, and by that\nof the visitors whom her court attracted, she set at the same time an\nedifying example of piety and a well-regulated life. Her associations\nwith Innsbruck were nevertheless overshadowed by sad events more than\nonce, though this does not appear to have diminished her affection\nfor the place.\n\nWhen Marshal Daun took a whole division of the Prussian army captive\nat Maxen in 1758, the officers, nine in number, were sent to Innsbruck\nfor safe custody. Here they remained till the close of the war, five\nyears later. This, and the furnishing some of its famous sharpshooters\nto the Austrian contingent, was the only contact Tirol had with the\nSeven Years' War. Two years after (1765) Maria Theresa arranged that\nthe marriage of her son (afterwards Leopold II.) with Maria Luisa,\ndaughter of Charles III. of Spain, should take place there. The\ntownspeople, sensible of the honour conferred on them, responded to it\nby adorning the city with the most festive display; not only with gay\nbanners and hangings, but by improving the fa\u00e7ades of their houses,\nand the roads and bridges, and erecting a triumphal arch of unusual\nsolidity at the end of the Neustadt nearest Wilten, being that by\nwhich the royal pair would pass on their way from Italy; for Leopold\nwas then Grand Duke of Tuscany. The theatre and public buildings were\nlikewise put in order. Maria Theresa, with her husband Francis I., and\nall the Imperial family, arrived in Innsbruck on July 15, attracting\na larger assemblage of great people than had been seen there even\nin its palmiest days. Banquets and gay doings filled up the interval\ntill August 5, when Leopold and Maria Luisa made their entrance with\nunexampled pomp. The marriage was celebrated in the Pfarrkirche by\nPrince Clement of Saxony, Bishop of Ratisbon, assisted by seven other\nbishops. Balls, operas, banquets, illuminations, and the national\nFreischiessen, followed. But during all these f\u00eates, an unseasonable\ngloom, which is popularly supposed to bode evil, overclouded the\nAugust sky, usually so clear and brilliant in Innsbruck. On the 18th,\na grand opera was given to conclude the festivities; on his way back\nfrom it Francis I. was seized with a fit, and died in the course of\nthe night in the arms of his son, afterwards Joseph II.\n\nThough Maria Theresa's master mind had caused her to take the lead in\nall public matters, she was devotedly attached to her husband, and this\nsudden blow was severely felt by her. She could not bear that the room\nin which he expired should ever be again used for secular purposes,\nand had it converted into a costly chapel; at the same time she made\ngreat improvements and additions to the rest of the Burg. She always\nwore mourning to the end of her life, and always, when state affairs\npermitted, passed the eighteenth day of every month in prayer and\nretirement. A remarkable monument remains of both the affection and\npublic spirit of this talented princess. Driving out to the Abbey of\nWilten in one of the early days of mourning, while some of the tokens\nof the rejoicing, so unexpectedly turned into lamentation, were still\nunremoved, the sight of the handsome triumphal arch reminded her of\na resolution suggested by Francis I. to replace it by one of similar\ndesign in more permanent materials. Her first impulse was to reject\nthe thought as a too painful reminder of the past; but reflection on\nthe promised benefit to the town prevailed over personal feelings,\nand she gave orders for the execution of the work; but to make it a\nfitting memorial of the occasion, she ordered that while the side\nfacing the road from Italy should be a Triumphpforte, and recall\nby its bas-reliefs the glad occasion which caused its erection,\nthe side facing the town should be a Trauerpforte, and set forth the\nmelancholy conclusion of the same. The whole was executed by Tirolean\nartists, and of Tirolean marbles. She founded also a Damenstift, for\nthe maintenance of twelve poor ladies of noble birth, who, without\ntaking vows, bound themselves to wear mourning and pray for the soul\nof Francis I. and those of his house. Another great work of Maria\nTheresa was the development she gave to the University of Innsbruck.\n\nAfter her death, which took place in 1780, Joseph II., freed from the\nrestraints of her influence, gave full scope to his plans for meddling\nwith ecclesiastical affairs, for which his intercourse with Russia had\nperhaps given him a taste. Pius VI. did not spare himself a journey\nto Vienna, to exert the effect of his personal influence with the\nEmperor, who it would seem did not pay much heed to his advice, and\nso disaffected his people by his injudicious innovations, that at the\ntime of his death the whole empire, which the skill of Maria Theresa\nhad consolidated, was in a state of complete disorganization. [170]\nThough increased by his ill-gotten share of Poland, he lost the Low\nCountries, and Hungary was so disaffected, that had he not been removed\nby the hand of death (1790), it is not improbable it would have thrown\noff its allegiance also. Leopold II., his brother, who only reigned\ntwo years, saved the empire from dissolution by prudent concessions,\nby rescinding many of Joseph's hasty measures, and abandoning his\npolicy of centralization.\n\nOne religious house which Joseph II. did not suppress was the\nDamenstift of Innsbruck, of which his sister, the Archduchess Maria\nElizabeth, undertook the government in 1781; and during the remainder\nof her life held a sort of court there which was greatly for the\nbenefit of the city. Pius VI. visited her on his way back from Vienna\non the evening of May 7, 1782. The whole town was illuminated, and\nall the religious in the town went out to meet him, followed by the\nwhole body of the people. Late as was the hour (a quarter to ten, says\na precise chronicle) he had no sooner reached the apartment prepared\nfor him in the Burg, than he admitted whole crowds to audience, and\nthe enthusiasm with which the religious Tirolese thronged round him\nsurpasses words. Many, possessed with a sense of the honour of having\nthe vicar of Christ in their very midst, remained all night in the\nsurrounding Rennplatz, as it were on guard round his abode. In the\nmorning, after hearing mass, he imparted the Apostolic Benediction from\nthe balcony of the Burg, and proceeded on his way over the Brenner.\n\nLeopold II. had not been three months on the throne before he came to\nInnsbruck to receive the homage of his loyal Tirolese, who took this\nopportunity of winning from him the abrogation of many Josephinischen\nmeasures, particularly that reducing their University to a mere\nLyceum. He was succeeded in 1792 by his son, Francis II.; but the\nmighty storm of the French Revolution was threatening, and absorbed\nall his attention with the preservation of his empire, and the defence\nof Tirol seems to have been overlooked. Year by year danger gathered\nround the outskirts of her mountain fastnesses. Whole hosts were\nengaged all around; yet there were but a handful, five thousand\nat most, of Austrian troops stationed within her frontier. The\nimportance of obtaining the command of such a base of operations,\nwhich would at once have afforded a key to Italy and Austria, did not\nescape Bonaparte. Joubert was sent with fifteen thousand men to gain\npossession of the country, and advanced as far as Sterzing. Innsbruck\nwas thrown into a complete panic, and I am sorry to have to record\nthat the Archduchess Maria Elizabeth took her flight. The Austrian\nGenerals, Kerpen and Laudon, did not deem it prudent, with their small\ncontingent, to engage the French army. Nevertheless, the Tirolese,\ninstead of being disheartened at this pusillanimity, with their wonted\nspirit rose as one man; a decisive battle was fought at Spinges, a\nhamlet near Sterzing, where a village girl fought so bravely, and urged\nthe men on to the defence of their country so generously, that though\nher name is lost, her courage won her a local reputation as lasting\nas that of Joan of Arc or the 'Maid of Zaragoza,' under the title of\nDas M\u00e4dchen von Spinges. [171] Driven out hence, the French troops\nmade the best of their way to join the main army in Carinthia. After\nthis the enemy left Tirol at Peace for some years, with the exception\nof one or two border inroads, which were resolutely repulsed. One of\nthese is so characteristic of the religious customs of Tirol, that,\nthough not strictly belonging to the history of Innsbruck, I cannot\nforbear mentioning it. The French, under Massena, had in 1799 been\ntwice repulsed from Feldkirch with great loss. Divisions which had\nnever known a reverse were decimated and routed by the practised guns\nof the mountaineers. Thinking their victory assured, the peasants,\nafter the manner of volunteer troops, had dispersed but too soon, to\nreturn to their flocks and tillage. Warily perceiving his advantage,\nMassena led his troops back over the border silently by night,\nintending in the morning to take the unsuspecting town by storm--a\nplan which did not seem to have a chance of failure. But it happened\nto be Holy Saturday. Suddenly, just as he was about to give the order\nfor the attack, the bells of all the churches far and near, which had\nbeen so still during the preceding days, burst all together upon his\near with the jubilant Auferstehungsfeier. [172] General and troops,\nalike unfamiliar with religious times and seasons, took the sound\nfor the alarm bells calling out the Landsturm. In the belief that\nthey were betrayed, a precipitate retreat was ordered. But the night\nno longer covered the march; and the peasants, who were gathered in\ntheir villages for the Offices of the Church, were quickly collected\nfor the pursuit. This abortive expedition cost the French army three\nthousand men.\n\nIn the meantime the Archduchess had returned to Innsbruck, and all\nwent on upon its old footing, as if there were no enemy to fear. So\nlittle was another disturbance expected, that the Archduchess devoted\nherself to the promotion of local improvements, including that of the\nGottesacker. This is one of the favourite Sunday afternoon resorts of\nthe Innsbruckers, and is well worthy of a visit. The site was first\ndestined for the purpose by the Emperor Maximilian. It was gifted with\nall the indulgences accorded to the Campo Santo of Rome by the Pope,\nand in token of the same some earth from San Lorenzo fuori le mura\nwas brought hither at the time of its consecration by the Bishop of\nBrixen in 1510. It has, according to the frequent German arrangement,\nan upper and a lower chapel; the former, dedicated to S. Anne; the\nlatter, as usual, to S. Michael, though the people commonly call\nit die Veitskapelle, on account of some cures of S. Vitus' dance\nwrought here. The arcades which now surround the cemetery were the\nresult of the introduction of Italian customs later in the sixteenth\ncentury. Some of the oldest and noblest names of Tirol are to be\nfound upon the monuments here, some of which cannot fail to attract\nattention. The bas-reliefs sculptured by Collin for that of the\nHohenhauser family, and those he prepared for his own, may be reckoned\namong his masterpieces. Some which are adorned with paintings would be\nvery interesting if the weather had spared them more. The Archduchess\nhad prepared her own resting-place here also, but was not destined to\noccupy it. The disastrous defeat of Austerlitz filled her with alarm,\nand she once more fled from Innsbruck, this time not to return.\n\nThis was the year 1805, and a sad one it was for Tirol. The treaty\nof Pressburg had given Tirol to Bavaria, and Bavaria and Tirol had\nnever in any age been able to understand each other. Willingly would\nthe Tirolese have opposed their entrance; but the Bavarians, who knew\nevery pass as well as themselves, were enabled to pour in the allied\ntroops under Marshal Ney in such force, that they were beyond their\npower to resist. The fortresses near the Bavarian frontier were razed,\nand Innsbruck occupied. On February 11, 1806, Marshal Ney left, and the\ntown was formally delivered over to Bavarian rule. The most unpopular\nchanges of government were adopted, particularly in ecclesiastical\nmatters and in forcing the peasants into the army; the University\nalso was once more made into a Lyceum. But the Landsturm was not\nidle, and the Archduke Johann, Leopold's brother, came into Tirol to\nencourage them. Maturing their plans in secret, the patriots, under\nAndreas Hofer, who had been to Vienna in January to declare his plans\nand get them confirmed by his government, and Speckbacher, broke into\nInnsbruck on April 13, 1809, where the townspeople received them with\nloud acclamations; and after a desperate and celebrated conflict at\nBerg Isel, succeeded in completely ridding it of the invaders. The\nBavarian arms on the Landhaus were shattered to atoms, and when the\nEagle replaced them, the people climbed the ladders to kiss it. This\nwas the first great act of the Befreiungsk\u00e4mpfe which have made 'the\nyear Nine' memorable in the annals of Tirol, and, I may say of Europe,\nfor it was one of the noblest struggles of determined patriotism those\nannals have to boast, and at the same time the most successful effort\nof volunteer arms. Hofer accepted the title of Sch\u00fctzenkommandant, and\nwas lodged in the imperial Burg, while his peasant neighbours took the\noffice of guards; but he altered nothing of his simple habits, nor his\nnational costume. His frugal expenses amounted to forty-five kreuzers\na day, and he lost no opportunity of expressing that he did nothing\non his own account, but all in the name of the Emperor. On May 19 the\nBavarians laid siege to the town; but the defenders of the country,\nsupported by a few regular Austrian troops, obliged them by the end\nof a fortnight to decamp. On June 30 they returned with a force of\ntwenty-four thousand men; but other feats of arms of the patriots in\nall parts of Tirol showed that its people were unconquerable, and for\nthe third time Hofer took possession of Innsbruck. In the meantime,\nhowever, the Peace of Sch\u00f6nbrunn, of October 25, had nullified\ntheir achievements, though the memory of their bravery could never\nbe blotted out, and always asserted its power. Nor could the brave\npeople, even when bidden by the Emperor himself to desist, believe\nthat his orders were otherwise than wrung from him, nor could their\nloyalty be quenched. Hofer's stern sense of subordination made him\nadvise abstention from further strife, but the more ardent patriots\nrefused to listen, and ended by leading him to join them. A desultory\nwarfare was now kept up, with no very effectual result, but yet with\na spirit and determination which convinced the Bavarians that they\ncould never subdue such a people, and predisposed them to consent to\nthe evacuation of their country in 1814; for they saw that\n\n\n    Freedom from every hut\n      Sent down a separate root,\n    And when base swords her branches cut,\n      With tenfold might they shoot.\n\n\nIn the meantime a terrible wrong had been committed; the French,\nknowing the value of Hofer's influence in encouraging the\ncountry-people against them, set a price on his head sufficient to\ntempt a traitor to make know his hiding-place. He was taken, and thrown\ninto prison at the Porta Molina at Mantua. Tried in a council of war,\nseveral voices were raised in honour of his bravery and patriotism; a\nsmall majority, however, had the cowardice to condemn him to death. He\nreceived the news of the sentence with the firmness which might have\nbeen expected of him, the only favour he condescended to ask being the\nspiritual assistance of a priest. Provost Manifesti was sent to him,\nand remained with him to the end. An offer was made him of saving his\nlife by entering the French service, but he indignantly refused to join\nthe enemies of his country. To Provost Manifesti he committed all he\npossessed, to be expended in the relief of his fellow-countrymen who\nwere prisoners. He spent the early hours of the morning of the day on\nwhich he was to die, after mass, in writing his farewell to his wife,\nbidding her not to give way to grief, and to his other relations and\nfriends, in which latter category was comprehended the population of\nthe whole Passeyerthal, not to say all Tirol; recommending himself\nto their prayers, and begging that his name might be given out, and\nthe suffrages of the faithful asked for him, in the village church\nwhere he had so often knelt in years of peace. He was forbidden\nto address his fellow-prisoners. He bore a crucifix, wreathed in\nflowers, in his hand as he walked to the place of execution, which\nhe was observed repeatedly to kiss. There he took a little silver\ncrucifix from his neck, a memorial of his first Communion, and gave\nit to Provost Manifesti. He refused to kneel, or to have his eyes\nbandaged, but stood without flinching to receive the fire of his\nexecutioners. His signal to them was first a brief prayer; then a\nfervently uttered 'Hoch lebe Kaiser Franz!' and then the firm command,\n'Fire home!' His courage, however, unmanned the soldiers; ashamed\nof their task, they durst not take secure aim, and it took thirteen\nshots to send the undaunted soul of the peasant hero to its rest. It\nwas February 20, 1810; he was only forty-five. The traditions of his\ncourage and endurance, his probity and steadfastness, are manifold;\nbut in connexion with Innsbruck we have only to speak of his brief\nadministration there, which was untarnished by a single unworthy deed,\na single act of severity towards prisoners of war, of whom he had\nnumbers in his power who had dealt cruel havoc on his beloved valleys.\n\nThe Emperor for whom he had fought so nobly returned to Innsbruck,\nto receive the homage of the Tirolese, on May 28, 1816, amid the loud\nrejoicings of the people, preceded by a solemn service of thanksgiving\nin the Pfarrkirche. Illuminations and f\u00eates followed till June 5,\nwhen the ceremony was wound up by a grand shooting-match, at which\nthe Emperor presided and many prizes were distributed. The number\nwho contended was 3,678, and 2,137 of them made the bull's-eye;\namong them were old men over eighty and boys of thirteen and fourteen.\n\nThe claims of Hofer on his country's remembrance were not forgotten\nwhen she once more had leisure for works of peace. His precious\nremains, which had been carefully interred by the priest who consoled\nhis last moments at Mantua, were brought to Innsbruck in 1823,\nand laid temporarily in the Servitenkloster. On February 21 they\nwere borne in solemn procession by six of his brothers in arms,\nall the clergy and people following. The Abbot of Wilten sang the\nrequiem office. The Emperor ordered the conspicuous and appropriate\nmonument to mark the spot where they laid him, which is one of the\nchief ornaments of the Hofkirche. The pedestal bears the inscription--\n\n\n           Seinen in den Befreiungsk\u00e4mpfen gefallenen S\u00f6hnen\n                        das dankbare Vaterland,\n\n\nand the sarcophagus the words--\n\n\n                     Absorbta est mors in victoria.\n\n\nTirol had no reason to regret the restoration of the dynasty for\nwhich she had suffered so much. Most of her ancient privileges were\nrestored to her, and in 1826 Innsbruck again received the honour of\na University, and many useful institutions were founded. Francis came\nto Innsbruck again this year, and while there, received the visit of\nthe Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia. Another shooting-match\nwas held before them, at which the precision of the Tirolese received\nmuch praise; and again for a short time in 1835. The Archduke John,\nwho came in 1835 to live in Tirol, was received with great enthusiasm;\nhis hardy feats of mountain climbing, and hearty accessible character,\nendearing him to all the people.\n\nThe troubles of 1848 gave the Tirolese again an opportunity of showing\nthat their ancient loyalty was undiminished. The Emperor Ferdinand,\ndriven out of his capital, found that he had not reckoned wrongly in\ncounting on a secure refuge in Tirol. It was the evening of May 16\nthat the Imperial pair came as fugitives to Innsbruck. Though there\nwas hardly time to announce their advent before their arrival, the\npeople went out to meet them, took their horses from the carriage,\nand themselves drew it into the town; and all the time they remained\nthe towns-people and Landes-sch\u00fctzen mounted guard round the Burg. More\nthan this, the Tirolese Kaiser-J\u00e4ger-Regiment volunteered for service\nagainst the insurgents, and fought with such determination that\nMarshal Radetsky pronounced that every man of them was a hero. With\nequal stout-heartedness the Landes-sch\u00fctzen repelled the attempted\nItalian invasion at several points of the south-western frontier, and\nkept the enemy at bay till the imperial troops could arrive. These\nservices were renewed with equal fidelity the next year. A tablet\nrecording the bravery of those who fell in this campaign--one of the\nofficers engaged being Hofer's grandson--is let into the wall of the\nHofkirche opposite Hofer's monument.\n\nIt was this Emperor from whom the name of Ferdinandeum was given to\nthe Museum, but it was rather out of compliment, and while he was\nyet Crown-Prince, than in memory of any signal co-operation on his\npart. It was projected in 1820 by Count Von Chotek, then Governor of\nTirol. It comprises an association for the promotion of the study of\nthe arts and sciences. The Museum contains several early illuminated\nMSS., in the production of which the Carthusians of Schnals and the\nDominicans of Botzen acquired a singular pre-eminence. At a time when\nthe nobles of other countries were occupied with far less enlightened\npursuits, the peaceful condition of Tirol enabled its nobles, such as\nthe Edelherrn of Monlan, Annaberg, Dornsberg, Runglstein, and others,\nto keep in their employment secretaries, copyists, and chaplains,\nbusied in transcribing; and often sent them into other countries to\nmake copies of famous works to enrich their collections. It has also\nsome of the first works produced from the printing-press of Schwatz\nalready mentioned. This press was removed to Innsbruck in 1529;\nTrent set one up about the same time. In the lower rooms of the\nFerdinandeum is a collection of paintings by Tirolean artists, and\nspecimens of the marbles, minerals, and other natural productions\nof the country. The great variation in the elevation of the soil\naffords a vast range to the vegetable kingdom, so that it can boast\nof giving a home to plants like the tobacco, which only germinates\nat a temperature of seventy degrees, and the edelweiss, which only\nblossoms under the snow. There is also a small collection of Roman\nand earlier antiquities, dug up at various times in different parts\nof Tirol, and specimens of native industries. Among the most singular\nitems are some paintings on cobweb, of which one family has possessed\nthe secret for generations, specimens of their works may be found in\nmost of the museums of South Germany; these almost self-taught artists\ndisplay great dexterity in the management of their strange canvas,\nand considerable merit in the delicate manipulation of their pigments;\nsometimes they even imitate fine line engravings in pen and ink without\ninjuring the fragile surface. They delight specially in treating\nsubjects of traditional interest, as Kaiser Max on the Martinswand,\nthe beautiful Philippine Welser, the heroic Hofer, and the patron\nsaints and particular devotions of their village sanctuaries. Kranach's\nMari\u00e4hilf is thus an object of most affectionate care. The 'web' is\ncertainly like that of no ordinary spider; but it is reported that\nthis family has cultivated a particular species for the purpose,\nand an artist friend who had been in Mexico mentioned to me having\nseen there spiders'-webs almost as solid as these. I was not able,\nhowever, to learn any tradition of the importation of these spiders\nfrom Mexico. In the first room on the second floor are to be seen\nthe characteristic letter written, as I have said, by Hofer, shortly\nbefore his end, and other relics of him and the other patriots, such\nas the hat and breviary of the Franciscan Haspinger. Also an Italian\ngun taken by the Akademische Legion--the band of loyal volunteer\nstudents of Innsbruck university, in the campaign of 1848--and I\nthink some trophies also of the success of Tirolese arms against the\nattempted invasion of the later Italian war, in which as usual the\nskill of these people as marksmen stood them in good stead. Anyone\nwho wishes to judge of their practice may have plenty of opportunity\nin Innsbruck, for their rifles seem to be constantly firing away at\nthe Schiess-stand; so constantly as to form an annoyance to those\nwho are not interested in the subject.\n\nThis Schiess-stand, or rifle-butt, was set up in 1863, in\ncommemoration of the fifth centenary of Tirol's union with Austria\nand its undeviating loyalty. No history presents an instance of a\nloyalty more intimately connected with religious principle than the\nloyalty of Tirol; the two traditions are so inseparably interwoven\nthat the one cannot be wounded without necessarily injuring the\nother. The present Emperor and Empress of Austria are not wanting to\nthe devout example of their predecessors, but the modern theory of\ngovernment leaves them little influence in the administration of their\ndominions. Meantime the anti-Catholic policy of the Central Government\ncreates great dissatisfaction and uneasiness in Tirol. Other divisions\nof the empire had been prepared for such by laxity of manners and\nindifferentism to religious belief--the detritus, which the flood of\nthe French revolution scattered more or less thickly over the whole\nface of Europe. But the valleys of Tirol had closed their passes to\nthe inroads of this flood, and laws not having religion for their\nbasis are there just as obnoxious in the nineteenth as they would\nhave been in any former century.\n\nIn concluding my notice of the capital of Tirol, it may be worth while\nto mention that the census of January 1870 gives it a population\n(exclusive of military) of 16,810, being an increase of 2,570 over\nthe twelve preceding years.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nNORTH TIROL--OBERINNTHAL.\n\nINNSBRUCK TO ZIRL AND SCHARNITZ--INNSBRUCK TO THE LISENS-FERNER.\n\n\n                        I taught the heart of the boy to revel\n                        In tales of old greatness that never tire.\n\n                                                         Aubrey de Vere.\n\n\nThose who wish to visit the legend-homes of Tirol without any\ngreat measure of 'roughing,' will doubtless find Innsbruck the most\nconvenient base of operations for many excursions of various lengths\nto places which the pedestrian would take on his onward routes. Those\non the north and east, which have been already suggested from Hall\nand Schwatz, may also be treated thus. It remains to mention those\nto be found on the west, north-west, and south. But first there is\nM\u00fchlau, also to the east, reached by an avenue of poplars between the\nright bank of the Inn and the railway; where the river is crossed by\na suspension-bridge. There are baths here which are much visited by\nthe Innsbruckers, and many prefer staying there to Innsbruck itself. A\npretty little new Gothic church adorns the height; the altar is bright\nwith marbles of the country, and has a very creditable altar-piece by a\nTirolean artist. M\u00fchlau was celebrated in the Befreiungsk\u00e4mpfe through\nthe courage of Baroness Sternbach, its chief resident; everywhere\nthe patriots gathered she might have been found in their midst, fully\narmed and on her bold charger, inspiring all with courage. Arrested\nin her ch\u00e2teau at M\u00fchlau during the Bavarian occupation, no threats or\ninsult could wring from her any admission prejudicial to the interests\nof her country, or compromising to her son. She was sent to Munich,\nand kept a close prisoner there, as also were Graf Sarnthein and\nBaron Schneeburg, till the Peace of Vienna.\n\nFrom either M\u00fchlau or Innsbruck may be made the excursion to Frau\nH\u00fctt, a curious natural formation which by a freak of nature presents\nsomewhat the appearance of a gigantic petrifaction of a woman with\na child in her arms. Of it one of the most celebrated of Tirolean\ntraditions is told. In the time of Noe, says the legend, there was a\nqueen of the giants living in these mountains, and her name was Frau\nH\u00fctt. Nork makes out a seemingly rather far-fetched derivation for\nit out of the wife der Beh\u00fctete (i.e. the behatted, or covered one),\notherwise Odin, with the sky for his head-covering. However that may\nbe, the legend says Frau H\u00fctt had a son, a young giant, who wanted\nto cut down a pine tree to make a stalking-horse, but as the pine\ngrew on the borders of a morass, he fell with his burden into the\nswamp. Covered over head and ears with mud, he came home crying to\nhis mother, who ordered the nurse to wipe off the mud with fine crumb\nof white bread. This filled up the measure of Frau H\u00fctt's life-long\nextravagance. As the servant approached, to put the holy gift of\nGod to this profane use, a fearful storm came on, and the light\nof heaven was veiled by angry clouds; the earth rocked with fear,\nthen opened a yawning mouth, and swallowed up the splendid marble\npalace of Frau H\u00fctt, and the rich gardens surrounding it. When the\nsky became again serene, of all the former verdant beauty nothing\nremained; all was wild and barren as at present. Frau H\u00fctt, who had\nrun for refuge with her son in her arms to a neighbouring eminence, was\nturned into a rock. In place of our 'Wilful waste makes woeful want,'\nchildren in the neighbourhood are warned from waste by the saying,\n'Spart eure Brosamen f\u00fcr die Armen, damit es euch nicht ergehe wie\nder Frau H\u00fctt.' [173] Frau H\u00fctt also serves as the popular barometer\nof Innsbruck; and when the old giantess appears with her 'night-cap'\non, no one undertakes a journey. This excursion will take four or five\nhours. On the way, B\u00fcchsenhausen is passed, where, as I have already\nmentioned, Gregory L\u00f6ffler cast the statues of the Hofkirche. I have\nalso given already the legend of the Bienerweible. As a consequence\nof the state execution which occasioned her melancholy aberrations,\nthe castle was forfeited to the crown. Ferdinand Karl, however,\nrestored it to the family. It was subsequently sold, and became one\nof the most esteemed breweries of the country, the cellars being\nhewn in the living rock; and its 'Biergarten' is much frequented by\nholiday-makers. Remains of the old castle are still kept up; among\nthem the chapel, in which are some paintings worth attention. On one\nof the walls is a portrait of the Chancellor's son, who died in the\nFranciscan Order in Innsbruck, in his ninety-first year.\n\nIf time allows, the Weierburg and the Maria-Brunn may be taken in the\nway home, as it makes but a slight digression; or it may be ascended\nfrom M\u00fchlau. The so-called M\u00fchlauer Klamm is a picturesque gorge,\nand the torrent running through it forms some cascades. Weierburg\naffords a most delightful view of the picturesque capital, and the\nsurrounding heights and valleys mapped out around. Schloss Weierburg\nwas once the gay summer residence of the Emperor Maximilian, and some\nrelics of him are still preserved there.\n\nHottingen, which might be either taken on the way when visiting Frau\nH\u00fctt or the Weierburg, is a sheltered spot, and one of the few in\nthe Innthal where the vine flourishes. It is reached by continuing\nthe road past the little Church of Mari\u00e4hilf across the Inn; it had\nconsiderable importance in medi\u00e6val times, and has consequently some\ninteresting remains, which, as well as the bathing establishment, make\nit a rival to M\u00fchlau. In the church (dedicated to St. Nicholas) is\nGregory L\u00f6ffler's monument, erected to him by his two sons. The Count\nof Trautmannsdorf and other noble families of Tirol have monuments\nin the Friedhof. The tower of the church is said to be a remnant\nof a Roman temple to Diana. To the right of the church is Schloss\nLichtenthurm, well kept up, and often inhabited by the Schneeburg\nfamily. On the woody heights to the north is a little pilgrimage\nchapel difficult of access, and called the H\u00f6ttingerbilde. It is\nbuilt over an image of our Lady found on the spot in 1764, by a\nstudent of Innsbruck who ascribed his rapid advance in the schools\nto his devotion to it. On the east side of the H\u00f6ttinger stream are\nsome remains of lateral mining shafts, which afford the opportunity\nof a curious and difficult, though not dangerous, exploration. There\nare some pretty stalactitic formations, but on a restricted scale.\n\nThere is enough of interest in a visit to Zirl to make it the object\nof a day's outing; but if time presses it may be reached hence, by\npursuing the main street of this suburb, called, I know not why, zum\ngrossen Herr-Gott, which continues in a path along an almost direct\nline of about seven miles through field and forest, and for the last\nfour or five following the bank of the Inn. Or the whole route may\nbe taken in a carriage from Innsbruck, driving past the rifle-butt\nunder Mari\u00e4hilf. At a distance of two miles you pass Kranebitten,\nor Kranewitten, not far from which, at a little distance on the\nright of the road, is a remarkable ravine in the heights, which\napproach nearer and nearer the bank of the river. It is well worth\nwhile to turn aside and visit this ravine, which goes by the name of\nthe Schwefelloch. It is an accessible introduction on a small scale\nto the wild and fearful natural solitudes we read of with interest\nin more distant regions. The uneven path is closed in by steep and\nrugged mountain sides, which spontaneously recall many a poet's\ndescription of a visit to the nether world. At some distance down\nthe gorge, a flight of eight or nine rough and precarious steps cut\nin the rock, and then one or two still more precarious ladders, lead\nto the so-called Hundskirche, or Hundskapelle, [174] which is said to\nderive its name from having been the last resort of Pagan mysteries\nwhen heathendom was retreating before the advance of Christianity in\nTirol. Further on, the rocks bear the name of the Wagnerwand (Wand\nbeing a wall), and the great and lesser Lehner; and here they seem\nalmost to meet high above you and throw a strange gloom over your\npath, and the torrent of the Sulz roars away below in the distance;\nwhile the oft-repeated answering of the echo you evoke is more weird\nthan utter silence. The path which has hitherto been going north now\ntrends round to the west, and displays the back of the Martinswand, and\nthe fertile so-called Zirlerchristen, soon affording a pleasing view\nboth ways towards Zirl and Innsbruck. There is rough accommodation\nhere for the night for those who would ascend the Gross Solstein,\n9,393 feet; the Brandjoch, 7,628 feet; or the Klein Solstein, 8,018\nfeet--peaks of the range which keep Bavaria out of Tirol.\n\nAs we proceed again on the road to Zirl, the level space between the\nmountains and the river continues to grow narrower and narrower,\nbut what there is, is every inch cultivated; and soon we pass\nthe Markstein which constitutes the boundary between Ober and\nUnter-Innthal. By-and-by the mountain slopes drive the road almost\ndown to the bank, and straight above you rises the foremost spur of the\nSolstein, the Martinswand, so called by reason of its perpendicularity,\ncelebrated far and wide in Sage and ballad for the hunting exploit\nand marvellous preservation of Kaiser Max.\n\nIt was Easter Monday, 1490; Kaiser Max was staying at Weierburg,\nand started in the early morning on a hunting expedition on the\nZirlergebirge. So far there is nothing very remarkable, for his\nardent disposition and love of danger often carried him on beyond all\nhis suite; but then came a marvellous accident, the accounts of the\norigin of which are various. There is no one in Innsbruck but has a\nversion of his own to tell you. As most often reported, the chamois\nhe was following led him suddenly down the very precipice I have\ndescribed. The steepness of the terrible descent did not affright\nhim; but in his frantic course one by one the iron spikes had been\nwrenched from his soles, till at last just as he reached a ledge,\nscarcely a span in breadth, he found he had but one left. To proceed\nwas impossible, but--so also was retreat. There he hung, then, a\nspeck between earth and sky, or as Collin's splendid popular ballad,\nwhich I cannot forbear quoting, has it:--\n\n\n            Hier half kein Sprung,\n            Kein Adler-Schwung\n    Denn unter ihm senkt sich die Martinswand\n    Der steilste Fels im ganzen Land.\n\n            Er starrt hinab\n            In 's Wolkengrab\n    Und starrt hinaus in 's Wolkenmeer\n    Und schaut zur\u00fcck, und schaut umher.\n\n    Wo das Donnergebr\u00fcll zu F\u00fcssen ihm grollt\n    Wo das Menschengew\u00fchl tief unter ihm rollt:\n            Da steht des Kaisers Majest\u00e4t\n            Doch nicht zur Wonne hoch erh\u00f6ht.\n\n            Ein Jammersohn\n            Auf luft 'gem Thron\n    Findet sich Max nun pl\u00f6tzlich allein\n    Und f\u00fchlt sich schaudernd, verlassen und klein. [175]\n\n\nBut the singers of the high deeds of Kaiser Max could not bring\nthemselves to believe that so signal a danger could have befallen\ntheir hero by mere accident. They must discover for it an origin\nto connect it with his political importance. Accordingly they have\nsaid that the minions of Sigismund der M\u00fcnzreiche, dispossessed at\nhis abdication, had plotted to lead Max, the strong redresser of\nwrongs, the last flower of chivalry, the hope of the Hapsburg House,\nthe mainstay of his century, into destruction; that it was not that\nthe innocent chamois led the Kaiser astray, but that the conspirators\nmisled him as to the direction it had taken.\n\nCertainly, when one thinks of the situation of the empire at that\nmoment, and of Hungary, the borderland against the Turks, suddenly\ndeprived of its great King Matthias Corvinus, even while yet at\nwar with them, only four days before [176]; when we think that the\nwriters of the ballad had before their eyes the great amount of good\nMaximilian really did effect not only for Tirol, but for the empire\nand for Europe, and then contemplated the idea of his career being cut\nshort thus almost at the outset, we can understand that they deemed\nit more consonant with the circumstances to believe so great a peril\nwas incurred as a consequence of his devotion to duty rather than in\nthe pursuit of pleasure.\n\nHere, then, he hung; a less fearless hunter might have been overawed\nby the prospect or exhausted by the strain. Not so Kaiser Max. He not\nonly held on steadfastly by the hour, but was able to look round him\nso calmly that he at last discerned behind him a cleft in the rock,\nor little cave, affording a footing less precarious than that on\nwhich he rested. The ballad may be thought to say that it opened\nitself to receive him. The rest of the hunting party, even those\nwho had nerve to follow him to the edge of the crag, could not see\nwhat had become of him. Below, there was no one to think of looking\nup; and if there had been, even an emperor could hardly have been\ndiscerned at a height of something like a thousand feet. The horns\nof the huntsmen, and the messengers sent in every direction to ask\ncounsel of the most experienced climbers, within a few hours crowded\nthe banks on both sides with the loyal and enthusiastic people; till\nat last the wail of his faithful subjects, which could be heard a\nmile off, sent comfort into the heart of the Kaiser, who stood silent\nand stedfast, relying on God and his people. Meantime, the sun had\nreached the meridian; the burning rays poured down on the captive,\nand gradually as the hours went by the rocks around him grew glowing\nhot like an oven. Exhausted by the long fast, no less than the anxiety\nof his position, and the sharp run that had preceded the accident,\nhe began to feel his strength ebbing away. One desire stirred him--to\nknow whether any help was possible before the insensibility, which he\nfelt must supervene, overcame him. Then he bethought him of writing\non a strip of parchment he had about him, to describe his situation,\nand to ask if there was any means of rescue. He tied the scroll to a\nstone with the cord of his hunting-horn, and threw it down into the\ndepth. But no sound came in answer.\n\nIn the meantime all were straining to find a way of escape. Even\nthe old Archduke Sigismund who, though he is never accused of any\nknowledge of the alleged plot of his courtiers, yet may well be\nsupposed to have entertained no very good feeling towards Maximilian,\nnow forgot all ill-will, and despatched swift messengers to Schwatz to\nsummon the cleverest Knappen to come with their gear and see if they\ncould not devise a means for reaching him with a rope; others ran from\nvillage to village, calling on all for aid and counsel. Some rang the\nstorm-bells, and some lighted alarm fires; while many more poured\ninto the churches and sanctuaries to pray for help from on High;\nand pious brotherhoods, thousands in number, marching with their\nholy emblems veiled in mourning, and singing dirges as they came,\ngathered round the base of the Martinswand.\n\nThe Kaiser from his giddy height could make out something of what was\ngoing on, but as no answer came, a second and a third time he wrote,\nasking the same words. And when still no answer came--I am following\nCollin's imaginative ballad--his heart sank down within him and he\nsaid, 'If there were any hope, most surely my people would have sent a\nshout up to me. So there is no doubt but that I must die here.' Then\nhe turned his heart to God, and tried to forget everything of this\nearth, and think only of that which is eternal. But now the sun sank\nlow towards the horizon. While light yet remained, once more he took\nhis tablet and wrote; he had no cord left to attach it to the stone,\nso he bound it with his gold chain--of what use were earthly ornaments\nany more to him?--'and threw it down,' as the ballad forcibly says,\n'into the living world, out of that grave high placed in air.'\n\nOne in the crowd caught it, and the people wept aloud as he read out\nto them what the Kaiser had traced with failing hand. He thanked Tirol\nfor its loyal interest in his fate; he acknowledged humbly that his\nsuffering was a penance sent him worthily by heaven for the pride and\nhaughtiness with which he had pursued the chase, thinking nothing too\ndifficult for him. Now he was brought low. He offered his blood and\nhis life in satisfaction. He saw there was no help to be hoped for\nhis body; he trusted his soul to the mercy of God. But he besought\nthem to send to Zirl, and beg the priest there to bring the Most Holy\nSacrament and bless his last hour with Its Presence. When It arrived\nthey were to announce it to him by firing off a gun, and another\nwhile the Benediction was imparted. Then he bid them all pray for\nsteadfastness for him, while the pangs of hunger gnawed away his life.\n\nThe priest of Zirl hastened to obey the summons, and the Kaiser's\ninjunctions were punctually obeyed. Meantime, the miners of Schwatz\nwere busy arranging their plan of operations--no easy matter, for they\nstood fifteen hundred feet above the Emperor's ledge. But before they\nwere ready for the forlorn attempt, another deliverer appeared upon\nthe scene with a strong arm, supported the almost lifeless form of the\nEmperor--for he had now been fifty-two hours in this sad plight--and\nbore him triumphantly up the pathless height. There he restored him\nto the people, who, frantic with joy, let him pass through their\nmidst without observing his appearance. Who was this deliverer? The\ntraditions of the time say he was an angel, sent in answer to the\nKaiser's penitential trust in God and the prayers of the people. Later\nnarrators say--some, that he was a bold huntsman; others, a reckless\noutlaw to whom the track was known, and these tell you there is a\nrecord of a pension being paid annually in reward for the service, if\nnot to him, at least to some one who claimed to have rendered it. [177]\n\nThe Monstrance, which bore the Blessed Sacrament from Zirl to carry\ncomfort to the Emperor in his dire need, was laid up among the\ntreasures of Ambras.\n\nMaximilian, in thanksgiving for his deliverance, resolved to be less\nreckless in his future expeditions, and never failed to remember the\nanniversary. He also employed miners from Schwatz to cut a path down\nto the hole, afterwards called the Max-H\u00f6hle, which had sheltered\nhim, to spare risk to his faithful subjects, who would make the\nperilous descent to return thanks on the spot for his recovery;\nand he set up there a crucifix, with figures of the Blessed Virgin\nand S. John on either side large enough to be seen from below; and\neven to the present day men used to dangerous climbing visit it with\nsimilar sentiments. It is not often the tourist is tempted to make the\nattempt, and they must be cool-headed who would venture it. The best\nview of it is to be got from the remains of the little hunting-seat\nand church which Maximilian afterwards built on the Martinsb\u00fchl,\na green height opposite it, and itself no light ascent. It is said\nMaximilian sometimes shot the chamois out of the windows of this\nvilla. The stories are endless of his hardihood and presence of mind\nin his alpine expeditions. At one time, threatened by the descent of\na falling rock, he not only was alert enough to spring out of the way\nin time, but also seized a huntsman following him, who was not so\nfortunate, and saved him from being carried over the precipice. At\nanother he saw a branch of a tree overhanging a yawning abyss; to\ntry his presence of mind he swung himself on to it, and hung over\nthe precipice; but crack! went the branch, and yet he saved himself\nby an agile spring on to another tree. Another time, when threatened\nby a falling rock, his presence of mind showed itself in remaining\nquite still close against the mountain wall, in the very line of its\ncourse, having measured with his eye that there was space enough for\nit to clear him. But enough for the present.\n\nZirl affords a good inn and a timely resting-place, either before\nreturning to Innsbruck, or starting afresh to visit the Isarthal and\nScharnitz. The ascent of the Gross Solstein is made from Zirl, as may\nalso be that of the Martinswand. In itself Zirl has not much to arrest\nattention, except its picturesque situation (particularly that of its\n'Calvarienberg,' to form which the living rocks are adapted), and its\nhistory, connecting it with the defence of the country against various\nattacks from Bavaria. Proceeding northwards along the road to Seefeld,\nand a little off it, you come upon Fragenstein, another of Maximilian's\nhunting-seats, a strong fortress for some two hundred years before\nhis time, and now a fine ruin. There are many strange tales of a great\ntreasure buried here, and a green-clad huntsman, who appears from time\nto time, and challenges the peasants to come and help him dig it out,\nbut something always occurs to prevent the successful issue of the\nadventure. Once a party of excavators got so far that they saw the\nmetal vessel enclosing it; but then suddenly arose such a frightful\nstorm, that none durst proceed with the work; and after that the clue\nto its place of concealment was lost. Continuing the somewhat steep\nascent, Leiten is passed, and then Reit, with nothing to arrest notice;\nand then Seefeld, celebrated by the legend my old friend told me on the\nFreundsberg. [178] The Archduke Ferdinand built a special chapel to the\nleft of the parish church, called die Heilige Blutskapelle, in 1575,\nto contain the Host which had convicted Oswald Milser, and which is\neven now an object of frequent pilgrimage. The altar-piece was restored\nlast year very faithfully, and with considerable artistic feeling, by\nHaselwandter, of Botzen. It is adorned with statues of the favourite\nheroes of the Tirolese legendary world, St. Sigismund and St. Oswald,\nand compartment bas-reliefs of subjects of Gospel history known as\n'the Mysteries of the Rosary.' The tone of the old work has been so\nwell caught, that it requires some close inspection to distinguish\nthe original remains from the new additions. The Archduchess Eleonora\nprovided the crystal reliquary and crown, and the rich curtains\nwithin which it is preserved. At a little distance to south-west of\nSeefeld, on a mountain-path leading to Telfs, is a little circular\nchapel, built by Leopold V. in 1628, over a crucifix which had long\nbeen honoured there. It is sometimes called the Kreuz-kapelle, but\nmore often the zur-Seekapelle, though one of the two little lakes,\nwhence the appellation, and the name of Seefeld too, was derived,\ndried out in 1807. There is also a legend of the site having been\noriginally pointed out by a flight of birds similar to that I have\ngiven concerning S. Georgenberg.\n\nThe road then falls more gently than on the Zirl side, but is rugged\nand wild in its surroundings, to Scharnitz, near which you meet the\nblue-green gushing waters of the Isar. Scharnitz has borne the brunt\nof many a terrible contest in the character of outpost of Tirolean\ndefences: it is known to have been a fortress in the time of the\nRomans. It was one of the points strengthened by Klaudia de' Medici,\nwho built the 'Porta Klaudia' to command the pass. Good service it\ndid on more than one occasion; but it succumbed in the inroad of\nFrench and Bavarians combined, in 1805. It was garrisoned at that\ntime by a small company of regular troops, under an English officer\nin the Austrian service named Swinburne, whose gallant resistance\nwas cordially celebrated by the people. He was overwhelmed, however,\nby superior numbers and appliances, and at Marshal Ney's orders the\nfort was so completely destroyed, that scarcely a trace of it is now\nto be found. [179]\n\nIt is the border town against Bavaria, and is consequently enlivened\nby a customs office and a few uniforms, but it is a poor place. I was\nsurprised to be accosted and asked for alms by a decent-looking woman,\nwhom I had seen kneeling in the church shortly before as this sort\nof thing is not common in Tirol. She told me the place had suffered\nsadly by the railway; for before, it was the post-station for all\nthe traffic between Munich and Innsbruck and Italy. The industries\nof the place were not many or lucrative; the surrounding forests\nsupply some employment to woodmen; and what she called Dirsten\u00f6hl,\nwhich seems to be dialectic for Stein\u00f6hl or petroleum, is obtained\nfrom the bituminous soil in the neighbourhood; it is obtained by\na kind of distillation--a laborious process. The work lasted from\nS. Vitus' Day to the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin; that was now\npast, and her husband, who was employed in it, had nothing to do;\nshe had an old father to support, and a sick child. Then she went\non to speak of the devotion she had just been reciting in the church\nto obtain help, and evidently looked upon her meeting with me as an\nanswer to it. It seemed to consist in saying three times, a petition\nwhich I wrote down at her dictation as follows:--'Gott gr\u00fcsse dich\nMaria! ich gr\u00fcsse dich drei und dreizig Tausend Mal; O Maria ich\ngr\u00fcsse dich wie der Erzengel Gabriel dich greg\u00fcsset hat. Es erfreuet\ndich in deinen Herzen dass der Erzengel Gabriel den himmlischen Gruss\nzu dir gebracht hat. Ave Maria, &c.' She said she had never used that\ndevotion and failed to obtain her request. I learnt that the origin\nshe ascribed to it was this:--A poor girl, a cow-herd of Dorf, some\nmiles over the Bavarian frontier, who was very devout to the Blessed\nVirgin, had been in the habit while tending her herds of saying the\nrosary three times every day in a little Madonna chapel near her\ngrazing-ground. But one summer there came a great heat, which burnt\nup all the grass, and the cattle wandered hither and thither seeking\ntheir scanty food, so that it was all she could do to run after and\nkeep watch over them. The good girl was now much distressed in mind;\nfor the tenour of her life had been so even before, that when she made\nher vow to say the three rosaries, it had never occurred to her such\na contingency might happen. But she knew also that neither must she\nneglect her supervision of the cattle committed to her charge. While\npraying then to Heaven for light to direct her in this difficulty,\nthe simple girl thought she saw a vision of our Lady, bidding her\nbe of good heart, and she would teach her a prayer to say instead,\nwhich would not take as long as the rosary, and would please her\nas well, and that she should teach it also to others who might be\noverwhelmed with work like herself. This was the petition I have\nquoted above. But the maid was too humble to speak of having received\nso great a favour, and lived and died without saying anything about\nit. When she came to die, however, her soul could find no rest, for\nher commission was unfulfilled; and whenever anyone passed alone by\nthe wayside chapel where she had been wont to pray, he was sure to see\nher kneeling there. At last a pious neighbour, who knew how good she\nhad been, summoned courage to ask her how it was that she was dealt\nwith thus. Then the good girl told him what had befallen her long ago\non that spot, and bid him fulfil the part she had neglected, adding,\n'But tell them also not to think the mere saying the words is enough;\nthey must pray with faith and dependence on God, and also strive to\nkeep themselves from sin.'\n\n\n\nIn returning from Zirl to Innsbruck, the left bank may be visited by\ntaking the Zirl bridge and pursuing the road bordering the river; you\ncome thus to Unterperfuss, another bourne of frequent excursion from\nInnsbruck, the inn there having the reputation of possessing a good\ncellar, and the views over the neighbourhood being most romantic,\nthe Ch\u00e2teau of Ferklehen giving interest to the natural beauties\naround. Hence, instead of pursuing the return journey at once, a\ndigression may be made through the Selrainthal (Selrain, in the dialect\nof the neighbourhood, means the edge of a mountain); and it is indeed\nbut a narrow strip bordering the stream--the Melach or Malk, so called\nfrom its milk-white waters--which pours itself out by three mouths\ninto the Inn at the debouchure of the valley. There is many a 'cluster\nof houses,' as German expresses [180] a settlement too small to be\ndignified with the name of village, perched on the heights around,\nbut all reached by somewhat rugged paths. The first and prettiest is\nSelrain, which is always locally called Rothenbrunn, because the iron\nin the waters, which form an attraction to valetudinarian visitors,\nhas covered the soil over which they flow with a red deposit. Small as\nit is, it boasts two churches, that to S. Quirinus being one of the\nmost ancient in Tirol. The mountain path through the Fatscherthal,\nthough much sought by Innsbruckers, is too rough travelling for\nthe ordinary tourist, but affords a fine mountain view, including\nthe magnificent Fernerwand, or glacier-wall, which closes it in,\nand the three shining and beautifully graduated peaks of the Hohe\nVillerspitz. At a short distance from Selrain may be found a pretty\ncascade, one of the six falls of the Saigesbach. Some four or five\nmiles further along the valley is one of the numerous villages named\nGries; and about five miles more of mountain footpath leads to the\ncoquettishly perched sanctuary of St. Sigismund, the highest inhabited\npoint of the Selrainthal. It is one of the many high-peaked buildings\nwith which the Archduke Sigismund, who seems to have had a wonderful\neye for the picturesque, loved to set off the heaven-pointing cones of\nthe Tirolese mountains. Another opening in the mountains, which runs\nout from Gries, is the Lisenthal, in the midst of which lie Juvenau\nand Neur\u00e4tz, the latter much visited by parties going to pick up the\npretty crystal spar called 'Andalusiten.' Further along the path stands\nby the wayside a striking fountain, set up for the refreshment of the\nweary, called the Magdalenenbr\u00fcndl, because adorned with a statue of\nthe Magdalen, the image of whose penitence was thought appropriate\nto this stern solitude by the pious founder. The Melach is shortly\nafter crossed by a rustic bridge, and a path over wooded hills leads\nto the ancient village of Pragmar. Hence the ascent of the Sonnenberg\nor Lisens-Ferner is made. The monastery of Wilten has a summer villa\non its lower slope, serving as a dairy for the produce of their\npastures in the neighbourhood; a hospitable place of refreshment for\nthe traveller and alpine climber, and with its chapel constituting a\ngrateful object both to the pilgrim and the artist. The less robust\nand enterprising will find an easier excursion in the Lengenthal,\na romantically wild valley, which forms a communication between the\nLisenthal and the OEtzthal.\n\nThe Selrainthalers are behind none in maintaining the national\ncharacter. When the law of conscription--one of the most obnoxious\nresults of the brief cession to Bavaria--was propounded, the youths of\nthe Selrain were the first to show that, though ever ready to devote\ntheir lives to the defence of the fatherland, they would never be\nenrolled in an army in whose ranks they might be sent to fight in\nthey knew not what cause--perhaps against their own brethren. The\ngenerous stand they made against the measure constituted their valley\nthe rendezvous of all who would escape from it for miles round, and\nsoon their band numbered some five hundred. During the whole of the\nBavarian occupation they maintained their independence, and were among\nthe first to raise the standard of the year 1809. A strong force was\nsent out on March 14 to reduce them to obedience, when the Selrainers\ngave good proof that it was not cowardice which had made them refuse\nto join the army. They repulsed the Bavarian regulars with such\nsignal success, that the men of the neighbourhood were proud to range\nthemselves under their banner, which as long as the campaign lasted\nwas always found in the thickest of the fight. No less than eleven\nof their number received decorations for personal bravery. In peace,\ntoo, they have shown they know how to value the independence for which\nthey fought; though their labours in the field are so greatly enhanced\nby the steepness of the ground which is their portion, that the men\nyoke themselves to the plough, and carry burdens over places where no\noxen could be guided. Their industry and perseverance provide them\nso well with enough to make them contented, if not prosperous, that\n'in Selrain hat jeder zu arbeiten und zu essen' (in Selrain there\nis work and meat enough for all) is a common proverb. The women,\nwho are unable for the reason above noted to take so much part in\nfield-labours as in some other parts, have found an industry for\nthemselves in bleaching linen, and enliven the landscape by the\ncheerful zest with which they ply their thrifty toil.\n\nThe path for the return journey from Selrain to Ober-Perfuss--or\nfoot of the upper height--is as rugged as the other paths we have\nbeen traversing, but is even more picturesque. The church is newly\nrestored, and contains a monument, with high-sounding Latin epitaph,\nto one Peter Anich, of whose labours in overcoming the difficulties\nof the survey and mensuration of his country, which has nowhere three\nsquare miles of plain, his co-villagers are justly proud. He was\nan entirely self-taught man, but most accurate in his observations,\nand he induced other peasants to emulate his studies. Ober-perfuss\nalso has a mineral spring. A pleasant path over hills and fields\nleads in about an hour to Kematen, a very similar village; but the\nremains of the ruined hunting-seat of Pirschenheim, now used as an\nordinary lodging-house, adds to its picturesqueness. Near by it may\nalso be visited the pretty waterfall of the Sendersbach. A shorter\nand easier stage is the next, through the fields to V\u00f6ls or Vels,\nwhich clusters at the foot of the Blasienberg, once the dwelling of a\nhermit, and still a place of pilgrimage and the residence of the priest\nof the village. The parish church of Vels is dedicated in honour of\nS. Jodok, the English saint, whose statue we saw keeping watch over\nMaximilian's tomb at Innsbruck. Another hour across the level ground\nof the Galwiese, luxuriantly covered with Indian corn, brings us back\nto Innsbruck through the Innrain; the Galwiese has its name from the\necho of the hills, which close in the plain as it nears the capital;\nwiese being a meadow, and gal the same form of Schall--resonance,\nwhich occurs in Nachtigall, nightingale; and also, strangely enough,\nin gellen, to sound loudly (or yell). At the cross-road (to Axams) we\npassed some twenty minutes out of V\u00f6ls, where the way is still wild,\nis the so-called Schwarze Kreuz-kapelle. One Blasius H\u00f6lzl, ranger\nof the neighbouring forest, was once overtaken by a terrible storm;\nthe Geroldsbach, rushing down from the G\u00f6tzneralp, had obliterated the\npath with its torrents; the reflection of each lightning flash in the\nwaste of waters around seemed like a sword pointed at the breast of his\nhorse, who shied and reared, and threatened to plunge his rider in the\nungoverned flood. H\u00f6lzl was a bold forester, but he had never known a\nnight like this; and as the rapidly succeeding flashes almost drove\nhim to distraction, he vowed to record the deliverance on the spot\nby a cross of iron, of equal weight to himself and his mount, if he\nreached his fireside in safety. Then suddenly the noisy wind subsided,\nthe clouds owned themselves spent, and in place of the angry forks of\nflame only soft and friendly sheets of light played over the country,\nand enabled him to steer his homeward way. H\u00f6lzl kept his promise,\nand a black metal cross of the full weight promised long marked the\nspot, and gave it its present name. [181] The accompanying figures\nof our Lady and S. John having subsequently been thrown down, it\nwas removed to the chapel on Blasienberg. Ferneck, a pleasant though\nprimitive bath establishment, is prettily situated on the Innsbruck\nside of the Galwiese, and the church there was also once a favourite\nsanctuary with the people; but when the neighbouring land was taken\nfrom the monks at Wilten, who had had it ever since the days of the\npenitent giant Haymon, it ceased to be remembered.\n\nStarting from Innsbruck again in a southerly direction, a little\nbeyond Wilten, already described, we reach Berg Isel. Though invaded\nin part by the railway, it is still a worthy bourne of pilgrimage,\nby reason of the heroic victories of the patriots under Hofer. On\nSunday and holiday afternoons parties of Innsbruckers may always be\nfound refreshing these memories of their traditional prowess. It is\nalso precious on less frequented occasions for the splendid view it\naffords of the whole Innthal. Two columns in the Scheisstand record\nthe honours of April 29 and August 30, 1809, with the inscription,\n'Donec erunt montes et saxa et pectora nostra Austriac\u00e6 domini m\u00e6nia\nsemper erunt.' I must confess, however, that the noise of the perpetual\nrifle-practice is a great vexation, and prevents one from preserving\nan unruffled memory of the patriotism of which it is the exponent;\nbut this holds good all over Germany. Here, on May 29, fell Graf\nJohan v. Stachelburg, the last of his noble family, a martyr to his\ncountry's cause. The peasants among whom he was fighting begged him\nnot to expose his life so recklessly, but he would not listen. 'I\nshall die but once,' he replied to all their warnings; 'and where\ncould it befall me better than when fighting for the cause of God and\nAustria?' He was mortally wounded, and carried in a litter improvised\nfrom the brushwood to Mutters, where he lies buried. A little beyond\nthe southern incline of Berg Isel a path strikes out to the right,\nand ascends the heights to the two villages of Natters and Mutters,\nthe people of which were only in 1786 released from the obligation\nof going to Wilten for their Mass of obligation. Natters has some\nremains of one of Archduke Sigismund's high-perched hunting-seats,\nnamed Waidburg; he also instituted in 1446 a foundation for saying\nfive Masses weekly in its chapel.\n\nThere are further several picturesque mountain walks to be found in\nthe neighbourhood of Innsbruck, under the grandly towering Nockspitze\nand the Patscherkofl. Or again from either Mutters or Natters there is\na path leading down to G\u00f6tzens, Birgitz, Axams, and Grintzens, across\nwestwards to the southern end of the Selrainthal. G\u00f6tzens (from G\u00f6tze,\nan idol), like the Hundskapelle, received its name for having retained\nits heathen worship longer than the rest of the district around. The\nruins, which you see on a detached peak as you leave G\u00f6tzens again,\nare the two towers of Liebenberger, and V\u00f6llenberger the poor remains\nof Schloss V\u00f6llenberg, the seat of an ancient Tirolean family of\nthat name, who were very powerful in the twelfth and thirteenth\ncenturies. It fell in to the Crown during the reign of Friedrich\nmit der leeren Tasche, by the death of its last male heir. Frederick\nconverted it into a state-prison. The noblest person it ever harboured\nwas the poet Oswald von Wolkenstein. Himself a knight of noble lineage,\nhe had been inclined in the early part of Frederick's reign to join\nhis influence with the rest of the nobility against him, because he\ntook alarm at his familiarity with the common people. Frederick's\nsudden establishment of his power, and the energetic proceedings\nhe immediately adopted for consolidating it, took many by surprise,\nOswald von Wolkenstein among the rest. He was a bard of too sweet song,\nhowever, to be shut up in a cage, and Friedl was not the man to keep\nthe minstrel in durance when it was safe to let him be at large. He\nhad no sooner established himself firmly on the throne than he not only\nreleased the poet, but forgetting all cause of animosity against him,\nplaced him at his court, and delighted his leisure hours with listening\nto his warbling. Oswald's wild and adventurous career had stored his\nmind with such subjects as Friedl would love to hear sung. But we shall\nhave more to say of Oswald when we come to his home in the Gr\u00f6dnerthal.\n\nThe next village is Birgitz; and the next, after crossing the\ntorrent which rushes down from the Alpe Lizum, is Axams, one of the\nmost ancient in the neighbourhood, after passing the opening to the\nlonesome but richly pastured Sendersthal, the slopes of which meet\nthose of the Selrainthal.\n\nThe only remaining valley of North Tirol which I have room here to\ntreat is the Stubay Thal. [182] Of the three or four ways leading\ninto it from Innsbruck, all rugged, the most remarkable is called by\nthe people 'beim Papstl' because that traversed by Pius VI. when he\npassed through Tirol, as I have already narrated. The first place\nof any interest is Waldrast, a pilgrim's chapel, dating from the\nyear 1465. A poor peasant was directed by a voice he heard in his\nsleep to go to the woods (Wald), and lay him down to rest (Rast),\nand it would be told him what he should do; hence the name of the\nspot. There the Madonna appeared to him, and bid him build a chapel\nover an image of her which appeared there, no one knew how, some years\nbefore. [183] A Servite monastery, built in 1624 on the spot, is now\nin ruins, but the pilgrimage is still often made. It may be reached\nfrom the railway station of Matrey. The ascent of the Serlesspitz\nbeing generally undertaken from here, it is called in Innsbruck the\nWaldrasterspitz. Fulpmes is the largest village of the Stubay Thal. The\ninhabitants are all workers in iron and steel implements, and among\nother things are reckoned to make the best spikes for the shoes of\nthe mountain climbers. Their works are carried all over Austria and\nItaly, but less now than formerly. In the church are some pictures\nby a peasant girl of this place. Few will be inclined to pursue this\nvalley further; and the only remaining place of any mark is Neustift,\nthe marshy ground round which provides the Innsbruck market with\nfrogs. The church of Neustift was built, at considerable cost, in\nthe tasteless style of the last century. The wood carvings by the\nTirolean artists Keller, Hatter, and Zatter, however, are meritorious.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nW\u00c4LSCH-TIROL.\n\nTHE W\u00c4LSCH-TIROLISCHE ETSCHTHAL AND ITS TRIBUTARY VALLEYS.\n\n\n    It is not some Peter or James who has written these stories for a\n    little circle of flattering contemporaries; it is a whole nation\n    that has framed them for all times to come, and stamped them\n    with the impress of its own mighty character.--Aksharounioff,\n    Use of Fairy Tales.\n\n\nIt is time that we turn our attention to the Traditions of South and\nW\u00e4lsch-Tirol, though it must not be supposed that we have by any\nmeans exhausted those of the North. There are so many indications\nthat ere long the rule over the province, or Kreis, [184] as it is\ncalled, of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol, may some day be transferred to Italy, that,\nespecially as our present view of it is somewhat retrospective, it\nis as well to consider it first, and before its homogeneity with the\nrest of the principality is destroyed.\n\nW\u00e4lsch, or Italian-Tirol sometimes, especially of late, denominated\nthe Trentino, comprises the sunniest, and some at least, of the most\nbeautiful valleys of Tirol. The Etschthal, or valley of the Adige,\nwhich takes its source from the little lake Reschen, also called\nder Gr\u00fcne, from the colour of its waters, near Nauders, traverses\nboth South and W\u00e4lsch-Tirol. That part of the Etschthal belonging to\nthe latter Kreis takes a direct north to south direction down its\ncentre. There branch out from it two main lines of valleys on the\nwest, and two on the east. The northernmost line on the west side\nis formed of the Val di Non and the Val di Sole; on the east, of the\nAvisio valley under its various changes of name which will be noted\nin their place. The Southern line on the west is called Giudicaria,\nand on the east, Val Sugana, or valley of the Euganieren.\n\nThe traveller's first acquaintance with the W\u00e4lschtirolische-Etschthal\nwill probably, as in my own case, be made in the Val Lagarina,\nthrough which the railway of Upper Italy passes insensibly on to\nTirolese soil, for you are allowed to get as far as Ala before the\ncustom-house visitation reminds you that you have passed inside\nanother government. It is a wild gorge along which you run, only\nless formidable than that which you saw so grimly close round you as\nyou left Verona. If you could but lift that stony veil on your left,\nyou would see the beautiful Garda-See sparkling beside you; but how\nvexatious soever the denial, the envious mountains interpose their\nstern steeps to conceal it. Their recesses conceal too, but to our\nless regret, the famous field of Rivoli.\n\nBorghetto is the first village on Tirolese soil, and Ala, in the\nMiddle Ages called Sala, the first town. It thrives on the production\nof silk, introduced here from Lombardy about 1530. It has a picturesque\nsituation, and some buildings that claim a place in the sketchbook. The\nother places of interest in the neighbourhood are most conveniently\nvisited from Roveredo, or Rofreit as the Germans call it, a less\nimportant and pleasing town than Trent, but placed in a prettier\nneighbourhood. It received its name of Roboretum from the Latins, on\naccount of the immense forests of oak with which it was surrounded\nin their time. The road leading through it, being the highway into\nthe country, bristles all along its way with ancient strongholds,\nas Avio, Predajo, Lizzana, Castelbarco, Beseno, and others, which\nhave all had their share in the numerous struggles for ascendancy,\nwaged for so many years between the Emperor, the Republic of Venice,\nthe Bishops of Trent, and the powerful families inhabiting them. The\nlast-named preserves a tradition of more peaceful interest. At the\ntime that Dante was banished from Florence, Lizzana was a seat of the\nScaligers, and they had him for their visitor for some time during his\nwanderings. Not far from it is the so-called Slavini di San Marco,\na vast Steinmeer, which seems, as it were, a ruined mountain, such\nvast blocks of rock lie scattered on every side. There is little\ndoubt the poet has immortalized the scene he had the opportunity of\ncontemplating here in his description of the descent to the Inferno,\nopening of Canto XII. It is said that a fine city, called San Marco,\nlies buried under these gigantic fragments, concerning which the\ncountry people were very curious, and were continually excavating\nto arrive at the treasure it was supposed to contain, till one day a\npeasant thus engaged saw written in fiery letters on one vast boulder,\n'Beati quelli che mi volteranno' (happy they who turn me round). The\npeasant thought his fortune was made. There could be no doubt the\npromised happiness must consist in the riches which turning over\nthe stone should disclose. Plenty of neighbours were ready to lend a\nhand to so promising a toil; and after the most unheard-of exertions,\nthe monster stone was upheaved. But instead of a treasure they found\nnothing but another inscription, which said 'Bene mi facesti, perch\u00e8\nle coscie mi duolevano (you have done me a good turn, for I had a\npain in my thighs). [185] As the peasants felt no great satisfaction\nin working with no better pay than this, the buried city of San Marco\nceased from this time to be the object of their search. Nevertheless,\nnear Mori, on the opposite (west) side of the river, is a deep cave\ncalled 'la Busa del Barbaz,' concerning which the saying runs, that\nit was, ages ago, the lurking-place of a cruel white-bearded old man,\nwho lived on human flesh, and that whoso has the courage to explore\nthe cave and discover his remains, will, immediately on touching them,\nbe confronted by his spirit, who will tell the adventurous wight\nwhere an immense treasure lies hid. Some sort of origin for this\nfable may be found in an older tradition, which tells that idols,\nwhose rites demanded human sacrifices, were cast down this cave by\nthe first Christian converts of the Lenothal. The Slavini are closed\nby a rocky gorge, characteristically named Serravalle; and as the\ncountry again opens out another cave on the east bank is pointed out,\nwhich was for long years a resort of robbers, who plundered all who\npassed that way. These were routed out by the Prince-bishop of Trent\nin 1197, and a hospice for the relief of travellers built on the very\nspot which so long had been the terror of the wayfarer. The chapel\nwas dedicated in honour of S. Margaret, and still retains the name.\n\nRoveredo itself is crowned by a fort--Schloss Junk, or Castel\nnuovo--which has stood many a siege, originally built by the Venetians;\nbut it is more distinguished by its villas and manufactories. The\nsilk trade was introduced here in 1580, and has continuously added\nto the prosperity of the place. Gaetano Tacchi established relations\nwith England at the end of the last century, and the four brothers of\nthe same name, who now represent her house, are the richest family\nin Roveredo. They have a very pretty family vault near the Madonna\ndel Monte, a pilgrimage reached by a road which starts behind the\nPfarrkirche of Sta. Maria. Another pilgrimage church newly established\nis the Madonna de Saletto. While the silk factories occupy the\nItalian hands, the Germans resident in Roveredo find employment\nat a newly-established tobacco factory. Much tobacco is grown in\nthe Trentino.\n\nA great deal of activity is seen in Roveredo. The Corso nuovo is\na broad handsome street with fine trees. A new and handsome road,\nbetween the town and railway station, was laid out in the autumn of\n1869. Outside the town is the so-called Lenoschlucht, reached by the\nStrada nuova, which crosses it by a daring high arched bridge. The\ncliff rises sheer on the right hand, and overlooking the dangerous\nprecipice is the little chapel of S. Columban, seemingly perched\nthere by enchantment. It is built over the spot where a hermit,\nwho was held in veneration by the neighbourhood, had his retreat.\n\nThere are seven churches, but not much to remark in any of them. That\nof S. Rocchus was built in consequence of a vow made by the townspeople\nduring the plague of 1630, to invite a settlement of Franciscans if it\nwas stayed. The altar-piece is ascribed to Giovanni da Udine. There\nare several educational establishments, and a club which is devoted\nto propagandism of Italian tendencies.\n\nThe time to see Trent to advantage is in the month of June, not only\nfor the sake of the natural beauties of climate and scenery, but\nbecause then falls the festa of S. Vigilius (26th), the evangelizer\nof the country, and the churches are crowded with all the surrounding\nmountain population, who, after religious observances have been duly\nfulfilled, indulge in all their characteristic games and amusements,\noften in representations of sacred dramas, [186] and always wind up\nwith their favourite and peculiar illumination of their mountain sides\nby disposing bonfires in devices over a whole slope. This custom is the\nmore worth noting that it is thought to be a remnant of fire-worship,\nprevailing before the entrance of the Etruscans. [187]\n\nThat their city was the see of S. Vigilius, and the seat of the great\ncouncil of the Church, are reckoned by its people their greatest\nglories; and they delight to trace a parallel between their city\nand 'great Rome.' They reckon that it was founded in the time of\nTarquinius Priscus by a colony of Etruscans, under a leader named\nRh\u00e6tius, who established there the worship of Neptune, whence the name\nof Tridentum or Trent. That they occupied and fortified the country,\nand subsequently became a power formidable to the Empire; but some\ntwenty-five years before the Christian era, Rh\u00e6tia, as the country\nround was called, was conquered by Drusus, son-in-law of Augustus,\nand colonized. An ancient inscription preserved in the Schloss Buon\nConsiglio shows that Trent was the centre of the local government,\nwhich was exactly modelled on that of Rome. S. Vigilius, who spread\nthe light of the faith here, was a born Roman, and suffered martyrdom\nin a persecution emulating those of Rome in the year 400. The city\nendured sieges and over-running from many of the barbarous nations\nwhich over-ran and sacked Rome, and researches into the ancient\nfoundations show that the accumulation of ruins has raised the soil,\nas in Rome, some feet above the original ground plan--Ranzi says\nmore than four metres. The traces of three distinct lines of walls,\nshowing just as in Rome the progressive enlargement of the city,\nhave been found, as also remains of a considerable amphitheatre, and\nmany of inlaid pavements, &c., showing that it was handsomely built\nand provided. To complete the parallel, it was under the r\u00e9gime of\nan ecclesiastical ruler that, after years of distress and turmoil,\nits peace and prosperity were restored. The Bishop of Trent still\nretains his title of Prince, but the deprivation of his territorial\nrule was one of the measures of secularization of Joseph II.\n\nThere are sixteen churches in Trent, of which the most considerable is\nthe Cathedral, dating from the eleventh century--with some remnants\nof sculpture, as the Lombard ornaments of the three porches, reckoned\nto belong to the seventh or eighth--a Romanesque building of massive\ndesign, built of the reddish-brown marble which abounds in the\nneighbourhood, with a Piazza and fountain before it. The interior is\nextensively decorated with frescoes. It is dedicated to S. Vigilius,\nwhose relics are preserved in a silver sarcophagus. Among its\nother notabilia are a Madonna, by Perugino, and some good paintings\nof less esteemed masters; also a copy of the Madonna di San Luca\nof the Pantheon, presented in 1465 to the then Bishop of Trent,\nwhile on a visit to Rome, by the Pope, and ever since an object of\npopular veneration. As a curiosity, is shown a waxen image of the\nBlessed Virgin, modelled by a Jew. It also contains several curious\nbrass monuments. The Church of Sta. Maria Maggiore, where the great\nCouncil was held, on this account, surpasses it in interest, though\nof small architectural merit. There is a legend that when the final\nTe Deum at the close of the Council was sung on December 4, 1563,\n[188] a crucifix, still pointed out in one of the side chapels [189]\nof the Cathedral, was seen to bow its head as if in token of approval\nof the constitutions that had been established. Sta. Maria Maggiore\ncontains a picture of the Council, with the fathers in full session,\nwhich is not without interest, as all the costumes can still be made\nout, though quaint and faded and injured by lightning. It has also a\nvery fine organ, the tone of which was so much esteemed at the time\nit was built, that it is said the Town Council determined to put out\nthe eyes of the organ-builder, [190] lest he should endow any other\ncity with as perfect an instrument. The meister, finding he could\nnot prevail on the councilmen to relent, asked as a last favour to be\nallowed to play on his organ, which was willingly conceded; but as soon\nas he had obtained access to the instrument, he contrived to damage\nthe stop imitating the human voice, which he had invented, and which\nhad been its great merit, and thus punished the pride and cruelty of\nthe municipality. In the remarkable Gothic Church of St. Peter is a\nchapel, built in commemoration of the infant St. Simeon, or Simonin,\nwhose alleged martyrdom at the hands of the Jews, in 1472, I have\nalready had reason to mention. Many relics of him are shown in the\nchapel, where a festa is still kept in his honour on March 24. The\ncutting of his name in the stone is still quite legible.\n\nMy limits forbid my speaking in much detail of the secular buildings\nand institutions which are, however, not unworthy of attention. There\nare clubs and reading-rooms--in some of which aspirations after\nunion with Italy are steadily propagated. The spirit of loyalty\nto Austria, though still strong in many breasts, has nothing like\nthe same influence as in 1848-9, or in 1866, when the attacks and\nblandishments of the revolutionists of Italy were alike powerless to\nshake the allegiance of the Trentiners. No one will overlook the vast\nSchloss buon Consiglio in the Piazza d'Armi, said to be an Etruscan\nfoundation. The public museum is a very creditable institution,\nenriched in 1846 by the legacy of Count Giovanelli's collection,\nchiefly of coins and medals; and paintings, not to be despised, are to\nbe seen in the collections of the best families of the place--Palazzi\nWolkenstein and Sizzo, Case Salvetti and Gaudenti. Two great ornaments\nof the city are the Palazzi Tabarelli, and Zambelli or Teufelspalast;\nand with the legend of the latter I must wind up my notice of Trent.\n\nGeorg Fugger, a scion of the wealthy Anthony Fugger, of Augsburg, the\nentertainer of Charles Quint, was deeply enamoured of the spirited\nClaudia Porticelli, the acknowledged beauty of Trent. Claudia did\nnot appear at all averse from the match, but she was too proud to\nyield herself all too readily; and besides, was genuinely possessed\nwith the spirit of patriotism, to which mountain folk are never\nwanting. Accordingly, when the reply long pressed for from her lips\ncame at last, it informed him that never would Claudia Porticelli\nof Tirolean Trent give her hand to one whose dwelling was afar from\nher native city; she wondered, indeed, that one who did not own so\nmuch as a little house to call a home in Trent, should imagine he\npossessed her sympathies. To another this answer would have amounted\nto a refusal, for it only wanted a day of the time already fixed, of\nlong date beforehand, for the announcement of her final choice. But\nGeorg Fugger, whose vast riches had long nursed him in the belief that\n'money maketh man,' and that nothing was denied to him, would not yield\nup a hope so dearly cherished as that of making Claudia Porticelli\nhis wife. To his determined mind there was a way of doing everything\na man was resolved to do. To build a house, however, in one night,\nand that a house worthy of being the home of his Claudia, when men\nshould call her Claudia Fugger, was a serious matter indeed. No human\nhands could do the work, that was clear; he must have recourse to help\nfrom which a good Christian should shrink; but the case was desperate;\nhe had no choice. Nevertheless, Georg Fugger had no mind to endanger\nhis soul either. The game he had to play was to get the Evil One to\nbuild the house, but also to guard from letting him gain any spiritual\nadvantage against him; and his indomitable energy devised the means\nof securing the one and preventing the other. Without loss of time\nthe devil was summoned, and the task of building the desired palace\npropounded. The tempter willingly accepted the undertaking, on his\nusual condition of the surrender of the soul of him in whose favour it\nwas performed. Georg Fugger cheerfully signed the bond with his blood,\nonly stipulating first for the insertion of one slight condition on\nhis side--namely, that the devil should do one little other thing for\nhim before he claimed his terrible guerdon. 'Whatever you like! it\nwon't be too hard for me!' boasted the Evil One; and they separated,\neach well satisfied with the compact.\n\n'The Devil's Palace has a splendid design, worthy the genius of\nPalladio,' writes a modern traveller, who has only seen it in its\ndecadence. On the night in which it was built, it was resplendent with\nmarbles and gilding and tasteful decoration; furnished it was too,\nto satisfy the most fastidious taste, and the requirements of the most\nluxurious. With pride the devil called Georg Fugger to come and survey\nthe lordly edifice, and name his 'final condition.' Georg Fugger was\nprepared for him; he had taken a bushel of corn, and strewn it over all\nthe floors of the vast building. 'Look here, Meister,' he said. 'If you\ncan gather this corn up grain by grain, and deliver me back the whole\nnumber correctly, then indeed my soul will be yours; but if otherwise,\nmy soul remains my own and the palace too. That is my final condition.'\n\nThe devil accepted the task readily, and with no misgiving of his\nsuccess. True, it took all the time that remained before sunrise\nto collect all the scattered grain; still he had performed harder\nfeats before that day. But the hours ran by, and still there were\nfive grains wanting to complete the count; where could those five\ngrains be! With a flaring torch, lighted at his fiercest fire, he\nsearched every corner through and through, but the five grains were\nnowhere to be seen, and daylight began to appear! 'Ah! the measure\nis well-heaped up, the Fugger won't discover they are missing,'\nso the fiend flattered himself. But Georg Fugger was keener than he\nseemed. Before his eyes he counted out the corn, and asked for the five\nmissing grains. 'Stuff! the measure is piled up full enough, I can't\nbe so particular as all that. The number must be there.' 'But it is\nnot!' urged Fugger. 'Oh, you've miscounted,' rejoined the Evil One;\n'I'm not going to be put off in that way. I've built your house,\nand I've collected your measure of corn, and your soul is mine;\nyou can't prove that there were five more grains.' 'Yes, I can,'\nreplied Fugger; 'reach out me your paw;' and the Devil, not guessing\nhow he could convict him by that means, held out his great paw, with\ninsolent confidence of manner. 'There!' cried Fugger, pointing to it\nas he spoke; 'there, under your own claws, lie the five grains! That\ncorn had been offered before the Holy Rood, and by the power of the\nfive Sacred Wounds it was kept from fulfilling your fell purpose. You\nhad not collected the full number of grains into the measure by\nthe morning light, so our bargain is at an end. Begone!' The Devil,\nself-convicted, had no refuge but to strive to alarm his victor by a\nshow of fury, and with burning claw he began tearing down the wall so\nlately raised. But Fugger remained imperturbable, for he had fairly\nwon the palace, and the Devil himself had no more power over it. He\ncould only succeed in making a hole big enough for himself to escape\nby, which hole was for many and many years pointed out.\n\nBut Fugger had also hereby established his claim to Claudia's hand,\nwho rejoiced at the gentle violence thus done her; and many happy\ndays they spent together in the Teufelspalast. In later years it\npassed from their family into the hands of Field-Marshal Gallas,\nwho lived here in peaceful retirement after his renowned exploits\nin the Thirty Years' War, whence it was long called Palazzo Gallas\nor Golassi; but it has lately again changed hands, and thus acquired\nthe name of Palazzo Zambelli.\n\nThe suburbs of Trent, among other excursions, offer the pleasing\npilgrimage of the Madonna alle Laste, [191] which is reached through\nthe Porta dell' Aquila, on the east side of the city, by half an\nhour's climbing up a mountain path off the road to Bassano. On a spur\nof this declivity had stood from time immemorial a marble Maria-Bild,\nhonoured by the veneration of the people. Somewhere about the year\n1630 a Jew wantonly disfigured and damaged the sacred token, to\nthe indignation of the whole neighbourhood. Christopher Detscher, a\nGerman artist, devoted himself to restoring it; but it was impossible\naltogether to obliterate the traces of the injury. By some means or\nother, however--the people said by miraculous intervention--it was\naltogether renewed in one night; and this prodigy so enhanced its fame,\nthat there was no case so desperate but they believed it must obtain\nrelief when pleaded for at such a shrine. A poor cowherd named Antonia,\nwho had been deaf all her life, was said to have received the power\nof hearing after praying there; and a child, who had died before\nthere was time to baptise it, a reprieve of existence long enough\nto receive that Sacrament. The grateful people now immediately set\nthemselves to raise a stone chapel over it, and by their ready alms\nmaintained a hermit on the spot to guard the sacred precincts. Twelve\nyears later, by the bounty of Field-Marshal Gallas, a community of\nCarmelites was established on the spot, which continued to flourish\ndown to the secularization of Joseph II. The convent buildings,\nhowever, yet serve the beneficent purpose of a Refuge for foundlings\nand orphans. The prospect from the precincts of the institution is\nvery fine; between the distant ranges of mountains and the foreground\nslopes covered with peach trees, lies the grand old city of Trent,\nshaped, like the country of Tirol itself, in the form of a heart. [192]\nVery effective in accentuating the outline are the two old castles\nof the Buon' Consiglio and the Palazzo degli Alberi, both formerly\nfortress-residences of the Prince-Bishops of Trent, the former\nvieing with the castle of the Prince-Bishop of Salzburg in extent and\ngrandeur. The curious isolated rock of Dos Trento is another centre of\na splendid view. The Romans called it Verruca, a wart. It was strongly\nfortified by Augustus, and remains of inscriptions and bas-reliefs\nare built into the wall of the ancient church of St. Apollinaria,\noccupying the site of a temple of Saturn. The vantage ground it\nafforded in repelling the entry of the French in 1703 obtained for it\nthe name of the Franzosenb\u00fchel. It has lately been newly fortified. A\ncharming but somewhat adventurous excursion may be made on foot, by a\npath starting from the fort of the Dos Trento rock, to the cascade of\nSardagna. Somewhere about this path, in the neighbourhood of Cadine,\nit is said, St. Ingenuin, [193] one of the early evangelizers of the\ncountry, planted a beautiful garden, which was a living model of the\nGarden of Eden; but so divinely beautiful was it, that to no mortal\nwas it given to find it. Only the holy Albuin obtained by his prayers\npermission once to find entrance to 'St. Ingenuin's Garden.' Entranced\nwith the delights of the place, he determined at least to bring back\nsome sample of its produce. So he gathered some of its golden fruits,\nto show the children of earth. To this day a choice yellow apple,\nsomething like our golden pippin, grown in the neighbourhood, goes\nby the name of St. Albuin's apple.\n\nThe only remaining towns of any note in the line of the\nW\u00e4lschtirolische Etschthal, are Lavis and S. Michel. Lavis is a pretty\nlittle well-built town (situated at the point where the torrents of\nthe Cembra, Fleims, and Fassa valleys, under the name of the Avisio,\nare poured into the Etsch), remarkable for a red stone viaduct, nearly\n3,000 feet long, near the railway station, over the Avisio. Lavis\nfell into possession of the French in 1796, when the church was burnt\nand the houses plundered. In 1841--forty-five years after--a French\nsoldier sent a sum of one hundred gulden to the church, in reparation\nfor having carried off a silver sanct-lamp for his share of the booty.\n\nLavis has on many another occasions stood the early brunt of the\nattacks of Tirol's foes, and its people have testified their full\nshare of loyalty. There is a tradition that the French, having on\none occasion gained possession of it with a band two hundred strong,\nthe people posted themselves on the neighbouring heights and harassed\nthem in flank; but a cobbler of Lavis, indignant at the havoc the\nFrench were making, left this vantage ground, and running down into\nthe town, shouting 'Follow me, boys!' dispersed the French troops\nbefore one of his fellows had time to come up! [194]\n\nSan Michel, or W\u00e4lsch Michel, is the boundary town against the circle\nof South Tirol, once the last town on Venetian territory. There\nare imposing remains here of a fine Augustinian priory, which\noriginated in a castle given up to this object by Ulrich Count of\nEppan in 1143; the building has of late years been sadly neglected;\nit is now a school of agriculture. A little way before W\u00e4lsch Michel,\nthe railway crosses, for the first time since leaving Verona, to the\nleft bank of the Adige, by a handsome bridge called by the people\n'the sechsmillionen Br\u00fccke.' Here we leave the Etschthal for a time,\nbut we shall renew acquaintance with it in its northern stretch when\nwe come to visit South Tirol.\n\nThe two northern tributary valleys of the Etschthal on the west are\nthe Val di Non [195] and Val di Sole; among the Germans, they go by\nthe names of Nonsberg and Sulzberg, as if they considered the hills in\ntheir case more striking than the valleys. The Val di Non is entered\nat W\u00e4lschmetz or Mezzo Lombardo by the strangely wild and gloomy\nRochettapass. W\u00e4lschmetz is a flourishing Italian-looking town, whence\na stellwagen meets every train stopping at San Michel. Conveyances\nfor exploring the valleys can be hired either at the 'Corona' or\nthe 'Rosa.' The Rochetta is guarded by a ruined fort fantastically\nperched on an isolated spur of rock called Visiaun or Il Visione,\nsaid to have formed part of a system of telegraphic communication\nestablished by the Romans.\n\nIn the church of Spaur Maggiore, or Spor, so called because the\nprincipal place in the neighbourhood, which at one time all belonged to\nthe Counts of Spaur, is a Wunderbild of the Blessed Virgin, which has\nfor centuries attracted pilgrims from the whole country round. The\nchurch of the next place of any importance, Denno, is remarkably\nrich in marbles, and handsome for its situation; a new altar-piece\nof some pretension, and a new presbytery, were completed here in\nAugust 1869. Flavone or Pflaun, the next village, is particularly\nproud of a rich silver-gilt cross, twenty-five pounds in weight,\nand set with pearls, a gift of a bishop of Trient. At the time of\nthe French invasion it was taken to Vicenza, but as soon as peace\nand security were re-established the people would not rest till it\nwas restored to them. The hamlet is adorned with a rather handsome\nmunicipal palazzo, built in the sixteenth century, when the ancient\nSchloss, which overhangs the Trisenega torrent, was pronounced unsafe\nafter several earth-slips. This valley is, if possible, richer in such\nremains than any other: every mountain spur bristles with them. One\nof the most important and picturesque is the Schloss Belasis, near\nDenno, claiming to be the cradle of the family of that name, which\nhas established itself with honour in several countries of Europe,\nincluding our own. Behind Pflaun are large forests, which constitute\nthe riches of the higher, as the Seidenbaum [196] is of the lower,\nlevel of the valley. In its midst lies the Wildsee of Tobel, which,\nfrozen in winter, serves for the transport of the timber growing on\nthe further side. The safety of its condition for the purpose is\nascertained by observing the time when the trace of the sagacious\nfox shows that he has trusted himself across.\n\nCles, situated nearly at the northernmost reach of the valley, is a\ncentre of the silk trade, and the factory-girls are remarkable for\ntheir tastefully adorned hair, though they all go barefooted. The site\nof a temple of Saturn, of considerable dimensions, has been found,\ncoinciding with traditions of his worship having been popular here; and\nremains of an ancient civilization are continually dug up. There is a\nwild-looking plain outside the town, still called the Schwarzen Felder,\nor black fields, because tradition declares it to be the place where\nthe Roman inhabitants burnt their dead. Here SS. Sisinius, Martyrius,\nand Alexander, are believed to have suffered death by fire on May 29,\n397, because these zealous supporters and missionaries of St. Vigilius\nrefused to take part in a heathen festival. St. Vigilius no sooner\nheard of their steadfast witnessing to the truth, than he repaired\nto the spot, and after zealously collecting and venerating their\nremains, preached so powerfully on their holy example, that great\nnumbers were converted by his word. A church was shortly after built\nhere, and being the first in the neighbourhood, was called Eccelesia,\nwhence the name of Cles. The devout spirit of these saintly guides\ndoes not seem wanting to the present inhabitants; when the jubilee\nwas held on occasion of the Vatican Council, more than two thousand\npersons went to Communion. At the not far distant village of Livo,\non the same occasion, it was found necessary to erect a temporary\nbuilding to supplement the large parish church, for the numbers who\nflocked in from the outlying parishes. The same thing occurred when\nthe faithful were invited to join in prayers for the Pope after the\nPiedmontese invasion of Rome, September 20, 1870.\n\nOn these 'Campi neri' was found, in the spring of 1869, a tablet\nsince known as the 'Tavola Clesiana.' It is a thickish bronze tablet,\nabout 18 in. by 13 in., with holes showing where it was attached to\na wall by the corners. It bears an inscription in Roman character,\nthe graving of which is quite distinct and unworn, as if newly\nexecuted. It is as follows, and has given rise to a great deal of\ncontroversy among arch\u00e6ologists, and between Professors Vallaury and\nMommsen, concerning its bearing on the early history of Annaunia:--\n\n\n    Miunio . sIlano . q . sulpicio . camerino . CoS idibus . martIs .\n    baIs . in . praetorio . edictum . ti . claudi . caesaris .\n    augusti . germanici . propositum . fuit . id . quod . infra .\n    scriptum . est . ti . claudius . caesar . augustus . germanicus .\n    pont . maxim . trib . potest . VI . imp . XI . P . P . cos .\n    designatus . IIII . dicit . cum . ex . veteribus . controversIs .\n    petentibus . aliquamdiu . etiam . temporibus . ti . caesaris .\n    patrui . meI . ad . quas . ordinandas . pinarium . apollinarem .\n    miserat . quae . tantum . modo . inter . comenses . essent .\n    quantum . memoria . refero . et . bergaleos . is que . primum .\n    apsentia . pertinaci . patrui . meI . deinde . etiam . gaI .\n    principatu . quod . ab . eo . non . exigebatur . referre .\n    non . stulte . quidem . neglexerit . et . posteac . detulerit .\n    camurius . statutus . ad . me . agros . plerosque . et . saltus .\n    meI . iuris . esse . in . rem . praesentem . mIsi . plantam .\n    iulium . amicum . et . comitem . meum . qui . cum . adhibitis .\n    procuratoribus . meis . quisque . in . alia . regione .\n    quique . in . vicinia . erant . summa . cura . inquisierit .\n    et . cognoverit . cetera . quidem . ut . michi . demonstrata .\n    commentario . facto . ab . ipso . sunt . statuat . pronuntietque .\n    ipsi . permitto . Quod . ad . condicionem . anaunorum . et .\n    tulliassium . et . sindunorum . pertinet . quorum . partem .\n    delator . adtributam . tridentinis . partem . neadtributam .\n    quidem . arguisse . dicitur . tam . et . si . animaduerto .\n    nonnimium . firmam . id . genus . hominum . habere . civitatis .\n    romanae . originem . tamen . cum . longa . usurpatione . in .\n    possessionem . eius . fuisse . dicatur . et . ita . permixtum .\n    cum . tridentinis . ut . diduci . ab . Is . sine . gravi .\n    splendi . municipI . iniuria . non . possit . patior . eos .\n    in . eo . iure in . quo . esse . existimaverunt . permanere .\n    beneficio . meo . eo . quidem . libentius . quod . plerisque .\n    ex . eo . genere . hominum . etiam . militare . in . praetorio .\n    meo . dicuntur . quidam . vero . ordines . quoque . duxisse .\n    nonnulli . collecti . in . decurias . romae . res . iudicare .\n    Quod . beneficium . Is . ita . tribuo . ut . quaecumque . tanquam .\n    cives . romani . gesserunt . egeruntque . aut . inter . se . aut .\n    cum . tridentinis . alIsve . ratam . esse . iubeat . nominaque .\n    ea . que . habuerunt . antea . tanquam . cives . romani . ita .\n    habere . Is . permittam .\n\n\nA fragment of an altar was found at the same time, with the following\nwords on it:--\n\n\n                              SATURNO SACR\n                             L. PAPIRIUS L\n                                  OPUS\n\n\nLivo is the first village of the Val di Sole, which runs in a\nsouth-westerly direction, forming nearly a right-angle with the Val\ndi Non, than which it is wilder, and colder, and less inhabited. At\nMagras the Val di Rabbi strikes off to the north. Its baths are\nmuch frequented, and S. Bernardo is hence provided with four or five\ncapacious hotels. A new church has just been built there, circular\nin form, with three altars, one of which is dedicated in honour of\nSt. Charles Borromeo, who visited the place in 1583, and preached\nwith so much fervour as effectually to arrest the Zuinglian teaching,\nwhich had lately been imported.\n\nMale is the chief place of Val di Sole, and contains about 1,500\ninhabitants. At a retreat held here last Christmas by the Dean of Cles,\nso many of them as well as of the circumjacent hamlets were attracted,\nthat not less than 3,000 went to communion. Further along the valley\nis Mezzana, the birthplace of Antonio Maturi, who, after serving in\nthe campaigns of Prince Eugene, entered a Franciscan convent at Trent,\nwhence he was sent as a missionary to Constantinople, and was made\nBishop of Syra, and afterwards was employed as nuncio by Benedict\nXIV. It was almost entirely destroyed by fire a few years ago,\nbut is being rapidly rebuilt. After this place the country becomes\nmore smiling, and cheerful cottages are seen by the wayside, with an\noccasional edifice, whose solid stone-built walls suggest that it is\nthe residence of some substantial proprietor. The valley widens out\nto a plain at Pellizano, round which lofty mountains rise on every\nside. The church here has a most singular fresco on the exterior\nwall, which is intended to record the circumstance that Charles Quint\npassed through in 1515. Some restoration or addition was made to the\nchurch at his expense, and a quaint inscription hints that he did it\nsomewhat grudgingly.\n\nA few miles further the valley divides into two branches, the Val\ndi Pejo and the Val di Vermiglio. At Cogolo, the chief place of Val\ndi Pejo, had long been stored a magnificent monstrance, offered\nto the church by Count Megaezy, who, though resident in Hungary,\nowned it for his Stammort. [197] It had long been the admiration of\nthe neighbourhood, and the envy of visitors; but it was stolen by\nsacrilegious hands in the troubles consequent on the invasion of the\nTrentino by 'Italianissimi,' in 1849. Count Guglielmo Megaezy sent the\nvillage a new one of considerable value and handsome design, whose\nreception was celebrated amid lights and flowers, ringing of bells\nand firing of mortaletti, July 18, 1869. This branch of the valley\nis closed in by the Drei Herren Spitz, or Corno de' tre Signori, the\nboundary-mark between the Valtellina, Bormio, and Tirol, and so called\nwhen they belonged to three different governments. The Val di Vermiglio\nis closed by Monte Tonale, the depression in whose slope forms the\nTonal Pass into Val Camonica and the Bergamese territory. Monte Tonale\nwas notorious in the sixteenth to early in the eighteenth century for\nits traditions of the Witches' Sabbath, and the trials for sorcery\nconnected with them. [198] Freyenthurn, a ruin-crowned peak at no\ngreat distance, bears in its name a tradition of the worship of Freya.\n\n\n\nOn the vine-clad height of Ozolo, above Revo, a few miles north of\nCles, is a little village named Tregiovo, most commandingly situated;\nhence, on a fine day, may be obtained one of the most enchanting\nand remarkable views, sweeping right over the two valleys. Hence\na path runs up the heights, and along due north past Cloz and\nArz to Castelfondo, with its two castles overhanging the roaring\ncascade of the Noce. Along this path, where it follows the Novella\ntorrent, numbers of pilgrims pass every year to one of the most famed\nsanctuaries of Tirol--Unsere liebe Frau im Walde, or auf dem Gampen,\nas the mountain on which it is perched is called by the Germans; and\nthis reach of the Nonstal is almost entirely inhabited by Germans. The\nItalians call it le Pallade, and more commonly Senale. The chapel\nis on the site of an ancient hospice for travellers, which became\ndisused, however, as early as the fourteenth century. A highly-prized\nMadonnabild, of great sweetness of expression, found in a swamp near\nthe place, stands over the high-altar. A celebration of the seventh\ncentenary of its being found was kept by a festival of three days\nfrom August 14, 1869, when crowds of pilgrimages, comprising whole\npopulations of circumjacent villages, both German and Italian, might\nhave been seen gathering round the shrine. Fondo, though but a few\nmiles distant, is a thoroughly Italian town; and so great is the\nbarrier this difference of tongue sets up, that great part of the\npopulation of the one never visits the other. It was nearly burnt\ndown in 1865, and has hardly yet recovered from the catastrophe;\nthe church, which occupies a very commanding situation, was saved,\nand its fine peal of six bells. Near it is St. Biagio, where was\nonce the only convent the Nonsthal ever possessed. Near this again\nis Sanzeno, which, by a tradition a little different from that given\nat Denno, is made out to be the place of martyrdom of SS. Sisinius\n(supposed to be another form of the name of St. Zeno), Martyrius,\nand Alexander. Their relics, at all events, are venerated here in\na marble urn behind the high-altar of the church, which bears the\ntitle of the Cathedral of the Val de Non; and the Roman remains,\nwhich are continually being discovered, [199] show that there were\nRomans here to have done the martyrdom. The legend is, that these\nsaints were three brothers of noble family, of Cappadocia, who put\nthemselves under the bidding of S. Vigilius, Bishop of Trent (who was\nalready engaged in the conversion of the valley), A.D. 390. Their\nconversions were numerous during a series of years; but on May 23,\n397, the inhabitants of the valley, who adhered to the old teaching,\ndesirous to make their usual sacrifice to obtain a blessing on their\ncrops, called upon the Christian converts to contribute a sheep for\nthe purpose. On the Christians refusing a strife ensued, of which\ntwo of the three missionaries were the immediate victims; but the\nnext day, the third, Alexander was also arrested; he was burnt alive,\nalong with the corpses of his companions. A church was subsequently\nbuilt on the spot where they were said to have suffered; their acts\nmay be seen in a bas-relief of the seventeenth century. San Zeno\nis also famous for being the birth-place of Christopher Busetti,\nwhose verses, no less than the details of his life, earned for him\nthe title of the Tirolean Petrarch. A little east of San Zeno is the\nnarrow inlet into the Romediusthal, so called from S. Romedius, whom\nwe heard of at Taur, [200] having chosen it for a hermitage whence to\nevangelize the Nonsthal, and in which to end his days. A more secluded\nspot could not be found on the whole earth. Perpendicular rocks narrow\nit in, leaving scarcely a glimpse of the sky above; the torrent which\nfiles its way through it, called San Romedius-Bach, continually works\na deeper and deeper bed. Two other torrents strive for possession of\nthe gorge (Romediusschlucht), the Rufreddo and the Verdes, between\nthem; near their confluence rises a stark isolated crag, from whose\nhighest point, almost like a fortress, rises the far-famed hermitage,\naccessible only from one side. The legend has it that S. Vigilius,\nknowing his exalted piety, conceived the idea of consecrating the\ncell whence his holy prayers had been poured out, for a chapel, but\nwas warned in a vision that angels had already fulfilled the sacred\ntask. When this was known, it may be imagined that the veneration\nof the people for it knew no bounds, and the angelic consecration\nis still remembered by diligent pilgrimages every first Sunday in\nJune; the Saint's feast is on January 15. The shrine is overladen\nwith thank-offerings, which might attract the robber in so lonely\na situation. Due precautions are taken for the preservation of the\ntreasury; the chapel is surrounded by strong walls, and ingress\nis not permitted to strangers after nightfall. There is no record\nof any attempt having been made on it but once, some thirty years\nago. On this occasion three men presented themselves at the gate,\nand urgently begged to be admitted to confession; their devotion was\nso well assumed, and their show of penitence so hearty, that the good\npriest could not refrain from letting them in. He had scarcely taken\nhis seat in the confessional, however, than the three surrounded\nhim, each presenting a pistol at his breast; all three missed fire,\nand the would-be robbers, convicted by the portent, knelt and made\na real confession of their misdeeds, and left as really penitent as\nthey had feigned to to be on arriving.\n\nThe spot has never ceased to be honoured since the death of the saint,\nsomewhere about 398. It is strange to stand between the walls of the\nliving mountain and realize the fact. There are few shrines in all\nEurope which can boast of such antiquity, such unbroken tradition,\nand such exemption from desecration. The building is as singular\nand characteristic as the locality. The chapel, where the saint's\nremains rest, and where he himself raised the first sanctuary of the\nNonsthal, is reached by one hundred and twenty-two steps, necessarily\nvery steep; and on attaining the last, it must be a very steady head\nthat can turn to survey the rise without giddiness. The interior is\nquite in keeping with the surroundings. Its light is dim and subdued,\nsufficient only to reveal the countless trophies of answered prayer\nwhich cover the dark red marble columns and enrichments. There are two\nother chapels at lower levels, one of the Blessed Sacrament, called\ndel Santissimo, and one over the hermitage in the rock. Flanking this\ncurious pile of chapels on chapels are, on one side, the priory or\nresidence of the chaplain of the place, and on the other the Hospice\nfor pilgrims and visitors, the whole forming a considerable corps\nde b\u00e2timent, and enclosed by a wall which seems to have grown out\nof the rock. Another little crag, jutting up as if in emulation of\nthat so gloriously crowned, was made into a Gottesacker, by a late\nprior, and its churchyard cross affords it a striking termination\ntoo; though not many monuments of the dead bristle from its sides\nas yet. This singularly interesting excursion may be made direct\nfrom S. Michel by those who have not time for visiting the whole\nvalley. They will pass several striking old castles, particularly that\nof Thun, nearly opposite Castle Bellasi, the Stammschloss of one of\nthe oldest and noblest German families, founded by one of the dearest\ncompanions and patrons of St. Vigilius. No other has given so many\ndistinguished scions to the service of the Church; Sigmund von Thun was\nthe representative of the Emperor at the Council of Trent. There is a\nstrong attachment between it and the people of the valley, who delight\nin celebrating every domestic event by what they call a Nonesade,\nor poem in the dialect of the Val di Non. The castle is well kept\nup; the interior is characteristically decorated and arranged, and\nmany curiosities are preserved in the library; its grounds also are\ncharmingly laid out. It is supplied with water by a noble aqueduct,\nraised in 1548, right across the valley from Berg St. Peter; crowned\nalso by an ancient castle, but in ruins. Few will have a prettier\npage in their sketch-book than they can supply it with here.\n\nHalf way between Sanzeno and Fondo, by a path which forms a loop with\nthat already mentioned, by Cloz and Arz, and just where the opening\ninto the Romediusthal strikes off, is a village named Dambel or\nDambl, where a very curious relic of antiquity, and an important one\nfor throwing light on the history of the earlier inhabitants of the\nvalley, was unearthed a couple of years ago. It is a stout, handsome\nbronze key, 14 1/2 in. long, the bow ornamented with scroll-work,\nwhich at first sight suggested the idea that it had formed part\nof a comparatively modern casting of the Pontifical arms. Closer\ninspection showed that on an octagonal ornament of the upper part of\nthe stem was an inscription, not merely engraved, but deeply cut (it\nis thought with a chisel), and in perfect preservation, in characters\ndescribed by a local antiquary as 'parte Runiche, parte Gotiche,\ndel Greco e Latino del 388 dell' era volgare, descritte da Ufila;\nma molte somigliano a quelle del Latino dell' Ionio 741 B. C.'\n\nThe owner of the ground, Bartolo Pittschneider, the jeweller of the\nvillage, seems to have been digging the foundation for a rustic house,\nintending to make use of a remnant of a very ancient wall long thought\nto have formed part of a temple of Saturn. At a depth of about 18 or\n20 in. he came to a sort of pavement, or tomb or cellar covering,\nof roughly-shaped stones resting against and sloping away from the\nbase of the ancient wall, so as to form a little enclosure. Along with\nthe key lay some other small objects, which unfortunately have been\ndispersed, [201] but among them were two bronze coins of Maximilian\nand Constantine the Great, thought to indicate the date of the burial\nof the key and not that of its manufacture.\n\nThis key was subsequently sent to Padre Tarquini, [202] and a copy has\nbeen given me of his report upon it. He pronounced the inscription\nto be undoubtedly Etruscan, but at the same time he did not think\nthe work of the key to be of older date than the fourth century of\nour era; inasmuch as there are other examples of Etruscan writing\nsurviving to as late a date in remote districts; that its size and\nmaterial (a mixture of silver and copper) denoted it to belong to some\nimportant edifice, and most probably to the very temple of Saturn\namid whose ruins it was found buried. He found in it two new forms\nof letters not found in other Etruscan inscriptions, but says that\nsimilar aberrations are too common to excite surprise. He translated\nit in the following form:--'Ad introducendum virum (1) addictum igni\nin Vulcani (2) Vivus aduratur ob perversitatem--incidendo incide\n(3)--Sceleratus est; sectam facit; blasphemavit--In aspectu ejus\nascendentes limen paveant, videntes hominem oblitum Ejus (4) pr\u00e6stare\njubilationem retinenti ad cruciatum, tamquam hostem suum.' [203]\n\nIt would be curious to know how Mr. Isaac Taylor would read the\ninscription by his different method, for Padre Tarquini found a\ncurious coincidence of circumstances to afford an interpretation to\nhis translation. It would seem that it was only after translating it as\nabove that his attention was called to the Christian local tradition,\nand then he was struck with several points of contact between it and\nthem. 1. The date which he had already assigned to the key is that\ngiven by the Bollandists to the martyrdom of St. Alexander and his\ntwo brothers. 2. It was found within the very precincts where he was\nsaid to have been burnt, and (his translation of) the inscription\ncommemorates a human burnt sacrifice (il vivicomburio). 3. The\ninscription (by his translation) seems to allude to Christians,\nto their suffering expressly for propagating their religion. 4. The\ninscription points to the sacrifice having taken place in an elevated\nsituation, as it uses the verb 'to ascend,' and the contemporary\nnarrative of St. Vigilius to St. Chrysostom of the event, as it\nhad happened before his eyes, says 'Itum est post h\u00e6c in religiosa\nfastigia, hoc est altum Dei templum ... in conspectu Saturni.' He\nfurther goes on to approve a conjecture of the local antiquary that\nthe key was a votive offering made on occasion of the martyrdom of\nSt. Alexander with SS. Zeno and Martyrius, in thanksgiving for the\ntriumph over their teaching, and inscribed with the above lines as\na perpetual warning to their followers.\n\nThe Avisiothal--the northernmost eastern tributary of the\nEtschthal--consists of three valleys running into each other; the Val\ndi Cembra, or Zimmerthal; the Val Fieme, or Fleimserthal; and the Val\ndi Fassa, or Evasthal. The Val di Cembra is throughout impracticable\nfor all wheeled traffic. Nature has made various rents and ledges\nin its porphyry sides, of which hardy settlers have taken advantage\nfor planting their villages, and for climbing from one to another;\nbut even their laborious energy has not sufficed to make roads over\nsuch a surface. This difficulty of access has not been without its\neffect in tending to keep up the honesty, hospitality, and piety of\nthe people; but as few will be able to penetrate their recesses,\ntheir characteristics will be better sacrificed to the exigencies\nof space than those of others. I will only mention, therefore,\nthe Church of Cembra, the Hauptort (about four hours' rugged walk\nfrom Lavis), which is an ancient Gothic structure well kept up, and\nadorned with paintings; and a peculiar festival which was celebrated\non the Assumption-day, 1870, at Altrei, namely, the presentation of\nnew colours to the Schiess-stand, by Karl von Hofer, on behalf of\nthe Empress of Austria. One bears a Madonna, designed by Jele of\nInnsbruck, on a banner of green and white (the national colours);\nthe other the names of the Empress ('Karolina Augusta') and the word\n'All-treu,' the original name of the village, conferred on it by Henry\nDuke of Bohemia, when he permitted ten faithful soldiers to make a\nsettlement here free of all taxes and customs. And yet the Italians,\nregardless of derivations, have made of it Anterivo.\n\nCavalese (which can be reached in five hours by stellwagen running\ntwice a day from the railway station at Neumarkt) stands near the\npoint where the Val di Cembra (which runs nearly parallel to the\nrailway between Lavis and Neumarkt) passes into the Fleimserthal. It\nis a charmingly picturesque, thriving little town, and should not\nbe overlooked, for the church is a very museum of Tirolese art:\npainting, sculpture, and architecture, all being due to native\nartists, and highly creditable to national taste, culture, and\ndevotion. Among these artists were Franz Unterberger, who was chosen\nby the Empress Catherine to execute copies from Raffael's Loggie,\nAlberti, Riccaboni, and others, whose fame has resounded beyond the\nechoes of their native mountains. Many private houses also contain\nworks of Tirolese art. Cavalese stands on a plateau, overlooking a\nmagnificent panorama, and shaded by a grove of leafy limes. Under these\nis a stone table, with stone seats arranged round it, where a sort of\nlocal parliament was formerly held. Respecting the appropriation of\nthis plateau for the site of the church, tradition says that in early\ntimes, when the church was about to be built, the commune fixed upon\nthis plateau, in the outskirts of the town, as the most beautiful,\nand therefore most appropriate, situation. But the old lady, part\nof whose holding it formed, could be induced on no consideration to\ngive it up. Some little time after, however, she had a very serious\nillness; on her sick bed she vowed, that if restored to health she\nwould devote as much of her fair meadow to the use of the church\nas a man could mow in one day. [204] She had no sooner registered\nher vow than health returned. The commune appointed a mower, and\nhe mowed off the whole of the vast meadow in one day. The old lady\nalways maintained that there was something uncanny about it, and\nanyone can see for themselves that no human mower could have done\nit. The Market-place is adorned with a very handsome tower. A new\nchurch is now building, after the design of Staidl, of Innsbruck,\non the site of the little ruined church of St. Sebastian, which shows\nthat the study of architecture is not neglected in Tirol. The space\nbeing very restricted, the novel expedient has been resorted to of\nplacing the sacristy under the sanctuary, and with good effect to\nthe external appearance. The former palace of the Bishops of Trent,\nnow a prison, is not to be overlooked. Predazzo is the only other spot\nin this valley we will stop to look at. The extraordinary geological\nformation of the neighbourhood has attracted many men of science to\nthe place, whose names may be seen in the strangers' book. The people\nare singularly thrifty and industrious. A high road connecting it\nwith Primiero is just completed, which is to be continued to meet\nthe railway projected between Belluno and Treviso. A new church is\nbeing raised there, of proportions and design quite remarkable for\nso remote a place. It was begun simultaneously with the troubles in\nItaly, in 1866, and a creditable amount has been since laid out upon\nit. The lofty vaulting of the nave is supported by ten monolithic\ncolumns of granite; the floor is paved with hard cement, arranged\nin patterns formed in colour; the smaller pillars, doors, steps,\nmouldings, are all of granite; much of the tracery is very artistic;\nthe windows are of creditable painted glass, though not free from\nthe German vice of over-shading. The architect is Michel Maier, of\nTrent; the elegant campanile by Geppert, of Innsbruck. It will be the\nlargest church in the whole of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol, after the Cathedral of\nTrent. The interior arrangements and decoration bid fair to be worthy\nof the structure. There is some good polychrome in the presbytery,\nby Ciochetti, a young artist, native of the village of Moena, in\nFassathal, who in the last five years has had eleven medals from\nthe Academy of Fine Arts at Venice. It is the custom all through\nthe valley that each village should have its own gay banner, which\nis carried before bridal processions to and from the church. But\nat Predazzo they have many other peculiarities; among these is the\nfollowing:--The night before the wedding the bridegroom goes to the\nhouse of the bride, accompanied by a party of musicians, knocks at\nthe door, and demands his bride. The eldest and least well-favoured\nmember of the household is then brought to him, on which a humorous\naltercation takes place and a less ancient dame is brought, and so\non, till all have been passed in review, and then the intended bride\nherself is brought at last, who admits the swain to the evening meal\nof the family. The friends and neighbours then come in, and bring\ntheir wedding gifts to the loving pair.\n\nThe Fassathal begins just after Moena. One of its wildest legends\nis that of the feuriger Verr\u00e4ther. It dates from the time of the\nRoman invasion. The mountain-dwellers appear to have been as zealous\ndefenders of their native fastnesses then as in later times, and it\nis said the conquering legions were long wandering round the confines\nwithout finding any who would lead them into the interior of the\ncountry. It was at last an inhabitant of the Fassathal who betrayed\nthe narrow pass which was the key to their defences, and which\ncost the liberty of the nation--all for the sake of the proffered\nblood-money. But he was never suffered to enjoy it; for a flash like\nlightning, though under a clear sky, struck him to the earth, and\never since, the traitor has been to be met by night wrapt in flames,\nand howling piteously.\n\nVigo is the principal town, and serves as the starting-point for\nthe magnificent mountain excursions of the neighbourhood. The most\ndifficult of these, and one only to be attempted by the well-seasoned\nAlpine climber, [205] is that of the massive snow-clad Marmolata,\n10,400 feet high, surnamed the Queen of the Dolomites; but she is\na severe and haughty queen, who knows how to hold her own, and keep\nintruders at a distance; and many who have been enchanted with her\nstern beauty from afar have rued the attempt at intruding on the cold\nsolitude of her eternal penance. For the legends tell that in her\nyouth she was covered with verdant charms, which made her the delight\nof the people; but they were not content to use with pious moderation\nthe precious gifts she had in store, and for some sin of theirs--some\nsay for selfish disregard of the law of charity to the poor; [206] some\nsay for disregard of the Church's law forbidding to work on the hohe\nUnser-frauentag (the Assumption), [207] some say for unjust striving\nfor the possession of the soil--the vengeance of Heaven overtook them,\nand the once smiling meadows were converted into the hard and barren\nglacier. Near Vigo is a little way-side chapel, highly prized, because\nnear it some French soldiers in the invasion of 1809 lost their way,\nand the town was thus saved from their depredations; and the legend\narose that the Madonnabild had stricken them blind. Several of them\ndied of falls and hunger, and tradition says, that on wild nights notes\nof distress from a dying bugler's horn may be heard resounding still.\n\nThe Avisio was once the boundary against Venetian territory; and\nSt. Ulrich dying on its banks, on his return from Rome, exacted of\nhis disciples a promise that they would carry his body across, so\nthat he might find his final rest on German soil.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nW\u00c4LSCH-TIROL.\n\nVAL SUGANA.--GIUDICARIA.--FOLKLORE.\n\n\n    Legends are echoes of the great child-voices from the primitive\n    world; so rich and sweet that their sound is gone out into\n    all lands.\n\n\nVal Sugana is watered by the Brenta through its whole course,\nrunning nearly direct east from Trent. It is reached by the Adler\nThor, and over the handsome bridge of S. Ludovico, through luxuriant\nplantations of mulberries and vines, and with many a summer villa on\neither hand. The road leads (at a considerable and toilsome distance)\nto the low range of hills (in Tirol called a Sonnenberg) of Baselga,\nlocally named Pin\u00e8, whose sides are studded with a number of villages\nand groups of houses. In one of these, Verda or Guarda by name,\nnear the village of Montanaga, is the most celebrated pilgrimage\nof the Trentino--the Madonna di Pin\u00e8, also known as the Madonna di\nCaravaggio. It was the year 1729; a peasant girl, Domenika Targa,\nnative of Verda, who was noted by all her neighbours for the angelic\nholiness of her life, had lost some of her herd upon the mountain one\nhot August day; in her distress, she knelt down to ask for help to\nbring back her charge faithfully. Suddenly the place was bathed in a\nlight of glory, and before her stood a lady so benign and glorious,\nshe could be none other than the Himmelsk\u00f6nigin. 'Go, my child, and\ntell them that you have seen me here, and that I have chosen this\nspot for my delight; and that their prayers will be heard which they\noffer before the picture of the Madonna di Caravaggio.' The light\nfaded away, and Domenika turned to seek her flock. She found them all\nin order, waiting for her to drive them home. There was considerable\ndiscussion after this as to what 'Madonna di Caravaggio' might mean;\nand it was at last decided that it could mean nothing but the picture\nof the Madonna by Caldara, surnamed Caravaggio from his birthplace,\nvenerated at Milan. Domenika could not leave her herds to go to Milan,\nand she was perplexed how to obey the vision. In her simple faith she\naddressed her prayer on high for further direction, and once more the\nheavenly sight was vouchsafed to her, and it was explained that the\nMadonnabild meant was not that of Milan, but the one in the little\nfield-chapel of S. Anna, near Montanaga. Domenika did not fail to\ngo there the next festival on which it was open, the Ascension Day,\nwhich was, that year, May 26. Above the faint light of the tapers\ntempered by the incense clouds, and amid the chanted litanies of the\nchoir, the fair Queen once more appeared to her in garments of gold,\nand surrounded by a glittering train of attendants. Some months passed,\nand though the people had wondered at the marvel, nothing had been done\nto commemorate it; Domenika was kneeling, on September 8, the Nativity\nof the Blessed Virgin, in the Chapel of S. Anna. A sound of soft\nchanting broke on her ear, which she thought must be the procession of\nthe parish coming up the hill to pray for rain. But as it grew nearer,\nthe same heavenly radiance overspread the place, and once more she saw\nthe Virgin Mother; but this time she looked stern, for the great favour\nof her visit had been overlooked, and she reasoned with Domenika on\nthe ingratitude it betokened. Domenika honestly outspoke her inward\ncogitations on the subject--what could a poor cattle-herd do? It was\ngiven her to understand that much might be done even by such a poor\npeasant, if she exercised energy and devotion. With new strength and\ndetermination, she girt herself for the task of building a shrine\nover the spot so dear to her. At first she met with great ridicule\nand scorn, but she pursued her way so steadily and so humbly, that\nall were won to share her convictions. Offerings for the work began\nto flow in. Those who had no money gave their corn, or their grapes,\ntheir ornaments, and their very clothes. Year by year the new church\nrose, according as she could collect the means; and at last, on May\n26, 1751, she had the consolation of seeing the complete edifice\nconsecrated. It is a neat cruciform building, sixty-three feet long\nand fifty-three feet wide, with three marble altars, on one of which\nis a copy of the Madonna di Caravaggio of Milan painted by Jakob\nMoser after he had made three pilgrimages to the original. I was\nnot able to ascertain what was supposed to have been intended in the\nfirst instance by calling the old picture in S. Anna's field-chapel\nthe Madonna di Caravaggio. Possibly the little Milanese town, which\nhas given two painters to fame, had produced some 'mute inglorious'\n'Caravaggio,' who painted the earlier picture. The commemoration of\nDomenika's vision is celebrated every year in Val Pin\u00e8 by pilgrimages\non May 26 when the most striking gatherings of Tirolese costume are\nto be observed there.\n\nPergine is the first large village on returning into the main valley,\nabout six miles from Trent. It well deserves to be better known:\nthe neighbourhood is of great beauty, and the form of the surrounding\nheights is well likened by the inhabitants to a theatre. The church,\nbuilt in 1500-45, is spacious and handsome, adorned in the interior\nwith red marble columns. In the churchyard are the remains of the\nolder church, where every Lent German sermons are still preached\nfor the benefit of the scattered German population, whose name for\nthe place is Persen. The German and Italian elements within the\nvillage are blended with tolerable amity. From the fourteenth to the\nsixteenth centuries, silver, copper, lead, and iron, were got out in\nthe neighbouring Fersinathal; and though the works are now nearly given\nup, the Knappen then formed an important portion of the community. They\ncast the bell as an offering to the church when building, and it\nis still called the Knappinn--by the Italians can\u00f2ppa. The chief\nindustry now is silk-spinning. The greatest ornament of the place\nis the Schloss of the Bishop of Trent, which is well kept up, and\nfrom the roof of which an incomparable view is obtained. Among the\npeculiar customs of the place those concerning marriages deserve to\nbe recorded, as they tend to show the character of the people. Two\nyoung men of the bridegroom's friends are selected for the office\nof Brumoli so called; they have to carry, the one a barn-door fowl,\nthe other a spinning-wheel, before the bride as she goes to and from\nchurch, to remind her of her household duties. After the wedding,\nas she returns with her husband to his house the door is suddenly\nclosed as she approaches, and there is then carried on a dialogue,\naccording to an established form, between her and her husband's\nmother--the latter requiring, and the former undertaking, that she\nwill prove herself God-fearing and domesticated; that she will be\nfaithful and devoted to her husband, and live in charity with all\nhis family. The little ceremony complete, the mother-in-law throws\nwide the door, and receives her with open arms.\n\nOn the south side of the valley, opposite Pergine, is the clear lake\nof Caldonazzo, whose waters reflect the bright green chestnut woods\naround it; it is the source of the Brenta, and one of the largest\nlakes of Tirol; about three miles long, and half as broad. Count\nWelfersheim, an Austrian general, and his adjutant, were drowned in\nattempting to walk over the thin ice on it in March 1871. On a rugged\npromontory jutting into its midst stands the most ancient sanctuary of\nthe neighbourhood, San Cristofero; once a temple to Saturn and Diana,\nbut adopted for a Christian church by the earliest evangelizers of\nthe valley, for which reason the produce of the soil and waters yet\npays tithe to the presbytery of Pergine. Other villages add to the\nsurrounding beauties of the lake, particularly Campolongo, with its\nchurch of St. Teresa high above the green waters, and the church and\nhermitage of San Valentin; the latter is now used for a roccolo, or\nvogeltennen, by which numbers of birds of passage are caught on their\nmigrations. The land is very poor. To eke out their living, most of the\nmale inhabitants of the villages around are wont to go out every winter\nas pedlars, with various small articles manufactured in the valley, and\nwith which they are readily trusted by those who stay behind. On their\nreturn, which is always at Easter, they distribute honourably what they\nhave earned for each, deducting a small commission. So straightforward\nand honourable are they, that though they have little idea of keeping\naccounts, and the sums are generally made out with a bit of chalk on\nthe inn table, yet it is said that such a thing as a dispute over the\namounts is utterly unknown. The church of St. Hermes, at Calzeranica,\nis reckoned the most ancient of the whole neighbourhood; remains\nof an ancient temple, thought to have been to Diana of Antioch,\nhave been found when repairing it. In the forest behind Bosentino,\na neighbouring village, is a pilgrimage chapel called Nossa Signora\ndel feles; die h. Jungfrau vom Farrenkraut--St. Mary of the Fern. Some\ntwo hundred years ago, Gianisello, a little dumb boy of Bosentino, who\nwas minding his father's herd in the forest, was visited by a bright\nlady, who pointed to a tuft of fern growing under a chestnut tree,\nand bid him go and tell the village people she would have them built\na chapel there. When the people heard the boy tell his story, who for\nall the twelve years of his life had never spoken a word before, they\nfelt no doubt it was the Blessed Virgin he had seen. The chapel was\nsoon built, and furnished with a painting embodying the little boy's\nstory. In time of dearth, drought, epidemic, or other local calamity,\nmany are the processions which may yet be seen wending their prayerful\nway to the chapel of St. Mary of the Fern.\n\nAmong the wild and beautiful legends of this part of the valley is\na variant of one familiar in every land. A young swain, the maiden\nof whose choice was called to an early grave, went wandering through\nthe chestnut groves calling for his beloved, till he grew weary with\ncrying, and laid him down in a cave to rest. A sweet sleep visited him,\nand he found himself in it at home as of old in the Valle del Orco,\n[208] with his Filomena on his arm; he led her to the village church,\nand the silver-haired pastor gave the marriage blessing, while all\nthe village prayed around. He brought Filomena home to his old house,\nalle Settepergole, [209] his dear old father and mother welcomed her,\nand she brought sunshine into the cottage; and when they were called\naway the old walls were yet not without life and joy, for it resounded\nto the voice of the prattling little ones. The little ones grew up\ninto stalwart lads and lasses, who earned homesteads of their own, and\nerewhile brought another tribe of prattling little ones to his knee;\nwhile Filomena smiled a bright sunshine over all, and they were so\nhappy they prayed it might never end: but one day it seemed that the\nsunshine of Filomena's smile was not felt, for she was no longer there;\nthen all grew pale and cold, and with a sudden chill he woke. It was\ngrey morning as he rose from the cave; the cattle were lowing as they\nwere led out to pasture; he looked out towards the chestnut groves,\nand watched in their waving foliage the strange effect which had\nbeen the charm of his childhood, looking like rippled ocean pouring\nabroad its flood. [210] But when he reached the village the sights\nand sounds were no more so familiar: the old church tower was capped\nwith a steeple, of which he never saw the like; the folk he met by\nthe way were all strangers, and stared at him as at one who comes\nfrom far. He wandered up and down all the day, and everything was yet\nstrange. At evening the men came back from the fields, and again they\ngazed at him estranged: once he made bold to ask them for 'Zansusa,'\nthe companion of his boyhood, but they shrugged their shoulders with\na 'Ch\u00e8 Zansusa?' and passed on. He asked again for 'Piero,' almost\nas dear a friend, and they pointed to a 'Piero' with not one feature\nlike his Peter. Once again he asked for 'Franceschi,' and they pointed\nto a grave, where his name was written indeed--'Franceschi,' who but\nthe day before had walked with him in full life and health, to hang\na fresh wreath on Filomena's cross! Ah! there was Filomena's cross,\nbut how changed was that too! the bright gilding, on which his savings\nhad been so willingly lavished, was tarnished and weather-worn, and\nnot a leaf of his garland remained round it. He wandered no further,\nnor sought to fathom the mystery more; he knelt on the only spot of\nearth that had any charm for him. As his knees touched the hallowed\nsoil consoling thoughts of her undying affection overflowed him. 'Here\nwe are united again,' he said; 'in a little while we shall be united\nfor ever.' 'At last have I found thee! these fifty years I have sought\nthee in vain!' The moonbeam kissed his forehead as he looked up, and\nthe moonbeam bore her who had spoken. A fair form she wore, but still\nit was not the form of Filomena. 'Who are you, and wherefore sought\nyou me?' he asked. 'I am Death,' replied the pale maiden, 'and for\nfifty years I have sought thee to lead thee to Filomena.' She beckoned\nas she spoke, and willingly he followed her whither the moonbeam led.\n\nThe village of Caldonazzo, with its ancient castle, is another\nornament of the lake. Further south is the village of Lavarone,\nor Lafraun, accessible only to the pedestrian. A house close to the\nedge of a little lake here is pointed out, which in olden time was\nthe residence of two brothers, the owners of the meadow over which\nthe lake is now spread. These two could never agree; their strife\ngrew from day to day, till at last one night they called each other\nout to settle their quarrels once for all by mortal combat. The\nnoise of the strife within had made them oblivious to the strife\nof the elements which was waging without. The gust which entered as\nthe eldest turned to open the cottage door, and the blinding rain,\ndrove them back; even their fierce passions seemed mastered by the\nfiercer fury without. In silence they returned into the room, and\nneither cared to raise his voice amid the angry voices of the storm,\nwhich now made themselves heard solemnly indeed. In sullen silence they\npassed the night, and during the silence there was time for reflection;\neach would have been glad to have backed out of the promised fight,\nbut neither had the courage to propose a reconciliation. Sullenly they\nrose with the morning light; the pale gold rays rested on the trees,\nnow calm and tranquil, and both shuddered to carry their vengeance\nout on to the fair scene; but neither dared speak, and once more the\neldest opened the door. This time it was not the rain descending from\nabove which drove him back; it was the flood rising from beneath! The\nCenta torrent had overflowed. The disputed meadow had become a lake,\nand with their united efforts they scarcely kept the waters banked\nout. The community of labour, of danger, and of distress, ended the\nstrife; and though their worldly possessions were lost to them for\never, they had found a greater boon, the bond of fraternal charity.\n\nI must pass over Levico, near which the Brenta has its source, and the\nintervening villages; but Borgo di Val Sugan' demands our attention\nfor its beautiful situation. The view over both may be enjoyed by\nmountain climbers from the neighbouring height of Vezzena. Borgo is\ncommonly called the Italian Meran, for its likeness with that favourite\nwatering-place. Its buildings extend over both sides of the Brenta,\nbeing united by a massive stone bridge, built in 1498. Those on the\nleft bank were nearly destroyed by fire in 1862, but the rebuilding\nhas been carried on with great spirit. Its ecclesiastical buildings do\nnot date far back; the rebuilding of the parish church in 1727 nearly\nobliterated all traces of the earlier edifice; its chief glories are\nthree paintings it possesses, one by Titian's brother, one by Karl\nLoth, and one by Rothmayr. The fine campanile was added in 1760. There\nis also a Franciscan convent, but it does not date back further than\n1603, there is the following curious tradition of its origin.\n\nThe Sellathal leading to Sette Comuni, is narrowed by two mighty\ncliffs--the Rochetta on the south, and the Grolina on the north,\nadorned with the ruined Castel San Pietro, [211] seemingly perched\nabove all human reach. On a green knoll beneath it stand the lordly\nremains of Castel Telvana; its frescoes are now nearly faded away,\nonly a room here and there is habitable; but its enduring walls and\ntowers show of what strength it was in the days long gone by--days\nsuch as those in which Anna, wife of Siccone di Caldonazzo, defended it\nwith so much spirit against all the might of Friedrich mit der leeren\nTasche, that she obtained the right to an honourable capitulation. It\nwas bought by the Counts of Welsburg in 1465, and henceforth it became\nan abode of pleasure rather than a mere fortress. Count Sigmund von\nWelsburg, who was its master towards the end of the sixteenth century,\nwas particularly disposed to make his residence in their midst a boon\nto the inhabitants of Borgo, and entered heartily into all the pastimes\nof the people. It happened thus that the Carneval procession of the\nyear 1598 was invited to take the Castel Telvana for its bourne;\nand that the women might not be fatigued by the ascent, the Count\ngallantly provided them all with horses from his own stud. The valley\nresounded with merriment as they wended their way up in their varied\nand fantastic attire. Arrived at the castle, good cheer was provided,\nwhich none were slow to turn to account, and the return was commenced\nin no less boisterous humour. At the most precarious spot of the\ngiddy declivity, the courage of the foremost rider forsook her;\nthe Count's high-couraged charger, which she bestrode, perceiving\nthe slackened pressure on the rein, grew nervous and bewildered too,\nand uneasy to find himself for the first time subjected to devious\nguidance. The indecision of the first fair cavalier alarmed her\nsister, who followed next behind--a shriek was the expression of the\nalarm, which communicated itself to the next rider, and in a moment\na panic had possessed the whole cavalcade, or nearly the whole; for\nthe few who here and there still retained their presence of mind\nwere powerless to make those before them advance, or to keep back\nthe threatening tramp of those behind. The Count saw the danger,\nand the one remedy. First registering a vow, that if he succeeded\nin his daring enterprise he would build a convent to the honour of\nGod and St. Francis, he set out along the brink of the narrow track,\nwhere there was scarce a foot-breadth between him and the abyss, past\nthe whole file of the snorting horses and their terrified burdens. He\nhad this in his favour, that every denizen of his stable recognised\nhim as he went by, and his presence soothed their chafing. Arrived\nat last safely at the head of the leading steed, his hand on its\nmane was enough to restore its confidence; securely he led it to\nthe full end of the dangerous pass, and all the others followed in\ndocile order behind. The Count did not forget his vow, nor would he\nin his gratitude allow any other hand to diminish the outlay he had\nundertaken. The convent buildings are now in part turned to secular\nuses, though part is also used for a hospital, where all the sick of\nthe town are freely tended. In the church is an altarpiece of Lazarus\nbegging at the gate of Dives, by Lorenzo Fiorentini, a native artist.\n\nThe pass I have mentioned between the Rochetta and the Grolina--the\nimportance of which as a defence was not unknown to the Romans, of\nwhose remains the town possesses a considerable collection dug up\nat different times--was not without its share of work in the French\ninvasions of 1796 and 1809. In the former, a handful of Tirolese\nsuccessfully repulsed five hundred of the enemy in an obstinate\nencounter of three hours' duration. In the latter, the place was\nattacked by tenfold greater numbers. General Ruska was so infuriated,\nnot only by their determined and galling fire, but by the derisive\nshouts and gestures of the mountaineers, who carried their daring\nso far as to fling the dead bodies of the soldiers they had killed\ndown under the wheels of his carriage, that he ordered the pillage\nand destruction of the town. His guns were ready planted to pour out\ntheir murderous fire, when the parish priest, heading a procession\nof aged house-fathers, came to implore him to spare their homes. At\nthe same moment news was brought him that two Austrian battalions were\nadvancing with dangerous haste. One or other of the considerations thus\nurged effected the deliverance of the town, which was only required\nto buy itself off at the price of a large supply of provisions.\n\nBorgo has further advantage of the mineral spring of Zaberle, and a\ncreditable theatre. Silk-spinning is again the chief industry of the\nplace; and there are several so-called Filatoriums, employing a great\nnumber of hands. The most remarkable excursions in the neighbourhood\nare to the deserted hermitage of San Lorenzo and the stalactite caves\nof Costalta, both in the Sellathal, whence there is a path leading\nto the curiously primitive and typically upright community of the\nSette Comuni.\n\nPursuing the valley further in its easterly course, I must not omit to\nmention Castelalto, not only remarkable for its share in the medi\u00e6val\nhistory of Tirol, but for being still well kept up. At Strigno,\none of the largest hamlets of the valley, is another ancient castle,\nwhich after its abandonment in the fourteenth century acquired the\nname of Castelrotto. The parish church, rebuilt in 1827, contains a\nMadonna del Rosario by Domenichino; and a Mater Dolorosa in Carrara\nmarble, by the Venetian sculptor Melchiori. This is the generally\nadopted starting-place for the Cima d'Asta, the highest peak of\nthe Trentino (8,561 feet), and commanding a panorama of exceptional\nmagnificence. Under favourable circumstances it is reached within\nthirty hours, sleeping in the open at Quarazza. The interest of\nthe way is heightened by two considerable lakes; the lower, that of\nQuarazza, closed in by wall-like cliffs, is fed by a cascade from\nthe higher lake, which receives several torrents. Near the summit\nis a garnet quarry. Just below Strigno is another inhabited castle,\nthat of Ivano, belonging to the Count of Wolkenstein-Trostburg, who\nmakes it a summer residence. The church is dedicated to S. Vindemian;\nnear it was once a hermitage. Further down the valley is Ospedaletto,\nfamous in border warfare, and once a hospice for travellers, served by\nmonks, still a mountain-inn with a chapel attached. Grigno has another\nonce-important castle. S. Udalric, Bishop of Augsburg, had occasion to\npass through the village on his way to Rome in the time of Pope Sergius\nIII. (A.D. 904-11), and left behind him so profound an impression\nof his sanctity, that the devotion of the people to his memory has\nnever diminished. In the eleventh century a chapel was built in his\nhonour, with the picturesque instinct of the people of that date,\non the steep way leading to Castel Tesino. It was always kept in good\ncondition till 1809, when it was desecrated by the French soldiery. It\nwas restored within ten years, and a rustic piazza in front planted\nwith lime trees, which have at the present time attained considerable\ndimensions. In July 1869, processions consisting of more than four\nthousand villagers met at this shrine, to pray for deliverance from\nthe heavy rains, which were causing the inundation of their homesteads.\n\nFrom Grigno there is a path which few persons however will be tempted\nto follow, across the so-called Canal San Bovo, to Primiero, a country\nwhich has already been so ably laid open to the tourist that I need\nnot attempt a fresh description of its beauties. If any one penetrates\nits recesses as far as the village of Canal San Bovo, I think they\nwill not be sorry to have been advised to ask for a certain Virginia\nLoss, who has a touching story to tell them of her adventures. On\na stormy day, the last of October 1869, she was making her way,\nthough only thirteen, with her mother and another woman, along the\ndangerous path leading hither from the Fleimserthal, following their\noccupation of carriers. They had passed Panchi\u00e0 and Ziano, and were\nin the midst of the verdant tract known as the Sadole. The fierce\nwind that blew exhausted her poor mother's strength, and she saw no\nhelp but to lay down her burden by the way, and try to reach home\nwith bare life. Domenica Orsingher, the other woman, however, who had\nalready got on a good way beyond her, no sooner learned what she had\ndone than, considering what a loss it must be to her, with a humble\nheroism went back to fetch the pack intending to carry it in addition\nto her own! The next day some men travelling by the same path found\nher body extended by the wayside. She had died of cold and exhaustion.\n\n\n    The land is strong with such as these,\n      Her heroes' destined mothers.\n\n\nFurther along they found Elisabetta Loss and her daughter huddled\ntogether. On carrying the bodies to Cauria they succeeded in reviving\nonly the child. Virginia has a tragic story to tell of; of how her\nmother sank to her rest, and her own unavailing and inexperienced\nefforts to call her to life; then the horror of the approaching\nnight, the snow storm in which she expected to be covered up and\nlost to sight, yet had not strength to move away; and, worst of all,\nthe circling flight of crows and ravens which she spent her last\nenergies in driving with her handkerchief from her mother's face;\nand yet the presence of death, solitude and helplessness, made the\napproach of even those rapacious and ill-omened companions seem almost\nless unwelcome. The insensibility which ensued was probably the most\nwelcome visitant of all.\n\nLe Tezze is a smaller village than Grigno, but one that has done good\nservice to the patriotic cause, having many a time stayed the advance\nof invading hosts; and never more successfully than in the latest\nGaribaldian attempt on the Trentino, upon the cession of Venice by\nAustria after Sadowa. The tombs of the bold mountaineers who fell\nwhile driving back the tenfold numbers opposed to them are to be\nseen appropriately ranged along the stony declivity they defended so\nwell. These graves are yearly visited by their brethren on the 14th\nof August.\n\n\n    They fell devoted and undying,\n    The very gale their deeds seems sighing;\n    The waters murmur forth their name,\n    The woods are peopled with their fame,\n    The silent pillar, lone and gray,\n    Claims kindred with their sacred clay.\n\n\nLe Tezze is the last Tirolean village of the valley, and the seat of\nthe Austrian custom-house against Italy. On the other side of this\nfrontier is the interesting Italian town of Primolano, whence there\nis an easier way into Primiero-thal than by crossing the Canal San\nBovo. Val Sugana retains more of the German element than any other\ndistrict of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol.\n\n\n\nJudicarien or Giudicaria bifurcates westwards and south-westwards from\nthe Etschthal opposite Val Sugana. Its first (south-west) division\nis called the Sarcathal and reaches to the Lago di Garda. Though no\npart of the beautiful Italian lake actually belongs to Tirol the town\nof Riva overlooks it; the country round is most productive in wine,\nsilk, lemons, figs, and other fruits. Its pleasant climate, the warmest\nin all Tirol, is due not only to its southern latitude, but also to\nits being the lowest land of the principality. Innsbruck is 1,820\nfeet above the sea-level, Riva but 220. From the western division of\nGiudicaria there branch out northwards Val Rendena, north-westwards\nVal Breguzzo and Val Daone, and southwards Val Bona. The Val di Ledro\nor Lederthal, forms a parallel return towards the Garda-See. Here an\nattempt at invasion headed by Garibaldi was repulsed by the Innsbruck\nStudent-brigade in 1866 at a pass called Bezzecca.\n\nGiudicaria is little explored yet it contains some choice scenery and\ntraditions. Castel Madruzz, which can be visited from Trent, is one\nof its most ancient and important castles. From the twelfth to the\nseventeenth century, the family which inhabited it and bore its name\ntakes a foremost place in Tirol's history. In the church are shown the\nportraits of seven of the family ascribed to Titian. From 1530 to 1658\nfour of its members occupied the See of Trent, and were successively\ninvested with the Cardinalitial dignity. Cardinal Karl Madruzz became\nthe last of his house. All his kindred having died without heirs, he\napplied to Rome for permission to marry--a dispensation which we have\nseen once before accorded in favour of a Tirolese prince. Cardinal\nMadruzz preferred his suit successively before Urban VIII., Innocent\nX., and Alexander VII., and at last obtained it, coupled with the\nproviso that he should only marry in his own station. As this did\nnot accord with his intentions, the favour so tardily granted was\nnever acted on. This fine castle had fallen into sad neglect but\nit is being restored. From its deserted terraces a glorious view is\nobtained, which takes in the two lakes of Toblino to the north, and\nCavedine to the south, both being fed by the same torrents. Round\nthe Lago di Cavedine lie the flowery slopes which bear the name of\nAbraham's Garden. The Lake of Toblino is broken into by a picturesque\npromontory, bearing the castellated villa of the Prince-Bishops of\nTrent; though on flat ground, the round turrets at the angles with\ntheir pointed caps afford a wonderful relief to the landscape. The\nvillage is called Sta. Massenza, from the mother of S. Vigilius, who\ndied here in the odour of sanctity, 381. Her relics were translated\nto Trent, 1120. At the foot of the height on which stands Schloss\nMadruzz is a double chapel, on the model of the Holy House of Loreto,\nthe legend being inscribed on the walls.\n\nAt the westernmost reach of Giudicaria, the Rendenathal branches\noff towards Val di Sole. It was the cradle of the evangelization of\nTirol, for here S. Vigilius suffered martyrdom, 405, and the valley\nis rife with traditions of him. He appears to have been stirred\nwith zeal for the propagation of the faith at a very early age; and\nhis piety and earnestness were so apparent that he was consecrated\nBishop of Trent at the age of twenty. He made many conversions,\nand built a church to SS. Gervasius and Protasius, A.D. 375. But\nhe was not content with establishing the faith here, and sending\nout missionaries hence; he would wander himself on foot through\nall the valleys where paganism still lurked, overturning idols and\nbuilding Christian sanctuaries--more than thirty trace their origin\nto his work. Nowhere did he meet with so much opposition as in the\nRendenathal, which was the last to accept the yoke of Christ. But he\nwas untiring in his apostolic labours, nor could he rest while one\ntoken of a false religion remained erect. It is not to be supposed\nthat, though he made many fervent converts, he effected all this\nwithout also exciting the opposition and fury of those whose teaching\nhe had come to supersede. Yet though many were the snares set for him,\nno conspiracy against him succeeded till he had cast down the last\nidol. It was at Mortaso, one of the remotest villages of this secluded\ndell, he stood announcing the 'glad tidings' of the Gospel from the\npedestal of the image he had overthrown, and the population crowded\nround, earnestly garnering in his words. He had left off preaching,\nand just raised his hands in benediction, when a body of heathen men\nand women, who had long determined to compass his end, rushed upon the\nscene from the surrounding grove, and stoned him with the fragments\nof the image he had overthrown. His hearers would have defended him,\nbut he knew that his hour was come, for his work was accomplished;\nand forbidding all strife, he knelt down, and folding his arms on his\nbreast meekly rendered up his spirit, while his constancy won many to\nthe faith. His disciples reverently gathered his remains and bore them\nto Trent; but as soon as his murderers were aware of their intent,\nthey set out to follow them. The Christian party, delayed by the\nweight of their burden, found that their pursuers were fast gaining\nground. In this strait, says the legend, they called upon the rocky\nwall before them--\n\n\n    Apritevi, O sassa,\n    Che S. Vigilio passa,\n\n\nand behold before them suddenly appeared a cleft in the rock,\nthrough which they passed in safety, and which is pointed out to this\nday. Another narrow cleft is pointed out near Cadine, which is said\nto have been rent asunder at his bidding, when once, at an earlier\nstage of his labours, he deemed it right to flee from those who would\nhave taken his life. The Acqua della Vela now passes through it,\nand a dent is shown which is said to mark the place where the saint\nimpressed his hand on the obedient stone. It was this suggested to\nthe bearers of the bier to make a similar appeal on behalf of his\nrelics. It is commonly reported that in Mortaso the bread never rises\nproperly; and they couple with it this tradition, that when the pieces\nof the broken idol sufficed not for all who would attack the saint,\nthe women brought out loaves from the oven to complete the work.\n\nThe Rendenathal also preserves the memory of S. Julian, called also\nSent Ugiano and San Zulian in local dialect. His legend says he\nlived with his parents in an outlying house. On one occasion, at the\ntime of day when they were usually at work in the fields, he heard\nthe sound of persons entering the house, and turned and slew them,\nand only found afterwards that it was his parents whose lives he\nhad taken. [212] Struck with horror he devoted himself to a life of\npenance, and made a vow to live so far from the habitations of men\nthat he should no more hear the cheerful crowing of the cock or the\nholy chime of the church bells. After his death the people found that\nangels had planted roses on his grave which bloomed in winter, and\nthey observed that no venomous reptile ever rested on it, while earth\ntaken from it cured their sting. So they built a chapel in his honour\non the border of the little lake which bears his name, at the opening\nof Val G\u00e9nova. Another interesting church in the same locality is that\nof Caresolo. Its exterior walls are adorned with frescoes bearing date\n1519, and inside is an inscription recording that it was restored by\nthe munificence of Charles Quint. At Pelugo, near Tione, where the\nRendenathal branches off, he found the castle in possession of a Jew,\nand so indignant was he to find a once Christian fortress so occupied,\nthat he had him immediately ejected and the place exorcised. Here, as\nalso at Massimeno and Caderzone, all inconsiderable mountain villages,\nnew churches were consecrated during the Bishop of Trent's visitation\nin August 1869, showing that the spirit of S. Vigilius had not died\nout. In the Pfarrkirche at Condino is a Muttergottesbild, presented\nin 1620 by a parishioner who averred he had seen it shed tears. Of\nthe church of Campiglio the legend runs, that when it was building,\nthe people being much distressed by a dearth, and their means hardly\nsufficing, the angels used to bring stone, wood, and other materials\nin the night; and one pillar is pointed out which was raised before\nthe eyes of the builders in broad day by invisible hands. The inn\nhere occupies a hospice built by the Templars, hence its imposing\nappearance. Colini, who was locally called the Hofer of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol,\nfor his brave leadership of his countrymen in 'the year nine,' kept\nit till his death in 1862. At Pinzolo is a thriving glass-house,\nsupported by Milanese capital and Venetian art and industry.\n\nRiva, at the head of the Garda-See, is one of the most charming spots\nin Tirol. Its German name of Reif is not a mere corruption of the\nItalian name; it is an old German word, having the same signification,\nof a shore. The parish church is a really handsome edifice, and a\ngreat ornament to the town and neighbourhood. Outside the town is\na curious octagonal church of the Immaculate Conception, built to\nenclose a wonder-working picture of the Blessed Virgin, by Cardinal\nKarl von Madruzz, who also founded a House of Friars Minor to attend\nto the spiritual necessities of the many pilgrims who came to visit\nit. The churches of S. Roch and S. Sebastian were built on occasion\nof visitations of the plague in 1522 and 1633. The neighbourhood\nsupplies the whole of Tirol with twigs of olive to use in the office\nof Palm Sunday, and all kinds of southern produce grow on the banks\nof the lake. It was long considered the highest latitude at which the\nolive-tree would grow, but it has since been successfully cultivated\nas far north as Botzen. In order to gain a full enjoyment of the\nbeautiful scenery around, the Altissimo di Nago should be ascended\nby all who have the courage for a six or seven hours' climb. From\nSan Giacomo, however, where there is a poor Wirthshaus and chapel,\nreached in not more than two hours, the scene at sunrise is one of\ninconceivable beauty. Behind are ranges beyond ranges and peaks beyond\npeaks of lordly alps. Before you lies the blue Lago di Garda, and the\nvast Lombard plains studded with fair cities, amid which you will not\nfail to distinguish Milan, which some optical illusion brings so near\nthat it seems it would take but an easy morning's walk to reach it.\n\nOn the way hence to Mori, at about half distance, lies Brentonico,\nwith a new church perched picturesquely as a medi\u00e6val one on a bold\nscarped rock. The old parish church has a fine crypt. The Castello\ndel Dosso Maggiore is a noble ruin. There is a bridge over a deep\ndefile in the outskirts, called the Ponte delle strege--the Witches'\nBridge--being deemed too daring for human builders. Mori, though\nnamed from its mulberry trees, is more famed for its tobacco, which\nis reckoned the best grown in Tirol.\n\nW\u00e4lsch-Tirol has many traditions, customs and sayings, which differ\nfrom those of the rest of the Principality, more resembling those of\nItaly, and some of which it cannot be fanciful to trace back to an\nEtruscan connection. Some bear the impress of the Roman occupation,\nand all are strung together by an overpowering Germanic influence.\n\nThe most prominent group--and their special home, I am assured,\nclusters round the Dolomite mountains--are those concerning certain\nbeings called 'Salvan' and 'Gannes;' and traditions about 'Orco.' A\nlocal collector of such lore, to whom I am chiefly indebted for\nthe above fact, is inclined to identify the 'Salvan' with 'Orco;'\nbut I think it can be shown that they are distinct ideas. Both are\nonly ordinarily, not always malicious, but the 'Salvan' is one of a\nnumber of sprites, Orco has the dignity of being one by himself. The\nSalvan in some respects takes the place of the wild man of the North,\nand of the satyr whom I also found called in Rome 'salvatico' and\n'selvaggio.' [213] 'Orco' clearly takes the place of Orcus in Italy;\nand that of the 'Teufel' in German legend. Yet so are the traditions\nof neighbouring peoples intermingled, that the Germans, not content\nwith their own devil, have sprightly imitations of Orco in their 'Nork'\nand Lorg, softened in the intermediate Deutsch Tirol into Norg. [214]\nIn Norway the same appellation is found, hardened into N\u00f6k, Neck, Nikr,\n[215] which seems to bring us round to our own 'Old Nick;' for in\nIceland he is 'Knikur,' and, perhaps, he gave his name to Orkney. [216]\n\nIt is curious, in tracing the seemingly undoubtable connection between\nthe Norg and Orco, to observe that though the Norg possesses almost\ninvincible strength, and often prevails against giants, yet in stature\nhe is always a dwarf, while Orco himself is considered a giant. But\nthen it is the one essential characteristic of Orco which forms\nthe link between all conceptions of him, whether men call him Orco,\nNork, or Nyk, that he is a deceiver ever; a liar from the beginning;\nwhenever he appears it is continually under some ever-changing,\nnot-to-be-expected form, and only the wise guess what he is before it\nis too late. [217] Thus it happened to two young lads of Mori, who had\nbeen up the mountains to visit their sweet-hearts, and coming back,\nthey met Orco prowling about after his manner when all good people are\nsafe in bed asleep--this time in the form of an ass. The Mori lads,\nnever thinking but that it was a common ass, jumped on its back. They\nsoon found out their mistake, for Orco quickly resented their want\nof discrimination, and cantered off with them past an old building\nwhich had once been a prison, and skilfully chucked them both in at\nthe window. It was some days before they contrived to crawl out again,\nand not till they were nearly starved.\n\nBut we have in English another affinity with 'Orco,' besides 'Old\nNick;' we have seen him take the place of our 'ogre' in deed as well as\nin name in the Roman fairy tales, and in Italy he is also the bugbear\nof the nursery which we have almost literally in 'Old Bogey.' And now\nMr. I. Taylor has found another affinity for him if he be justified\nin identifying our 'ogre' with \"the Tatar word, 'ugry,' a thief.\" [218]\n\nTo return to Orco's place in Tirol, we find his name assumes nearly as\nmany transliterations as his external appearance assumes changes. In\nVorarlberg they have a Dorgi or Doggi (i being the frequent local\nabbreviation for the diminutive lein,--klein), there considered as one\npersonation of the devil. The Doggi spreads over part of Switzerland,\nand overflows into Alsace as the Doggele. [219] In the zone of Tirol\nwhere the Italian and German elements of the population mingle, there\nis a class of mischievous irrepressible elfs called Orgen; soft,\nand round, and small, like cats without head or feet, who establish\nthemselves in any part of a house performing all sorts of annoyances,\nbut who are as afraid of egg-shells as the Norgs in other parts are\nsaid to be. Their chief home is in the Martelthal, south of Schlanders\nin the Vintschgau, and their name is devoted to the brightly shining\npeak seen from it--the Orgelspitz. In the Passeyer, on the north side\nof the Vintschgau, they go by the name of Oerkelen.\n\nSince we have seen him, too, divested of his 'r' in Doggi from\nVorarlberg to Alsace, and the Germans have already given him an L in\nLorg, he assumes a mysterious likeness to Loki himself, and as a sample\nof how elastic is language, and how misleading are mere sounds, though\nfor no other purpose, it might be said, we had found in this Doggi\na relation of the dog who guards the entrance to the regions of Orcus!\n\nThe Salvan and Gannes, as described by the local observer above\nalluded to, seem to partake very much of the character of the good\nand evil genii of the Etruscans, though the traditions that remain\nof them refer almost exclusively to their action on this side the\ngrave. 'Their Etruscan appellation,' says Mr. Dennis, 'is not yet\ndiscovered;' [220] when it is, it will be very satisfactory if it has\nany analogy with 'Gannes.' [221] The Gannes were gentle, beauteous,\nbeneficent beings, delighting in being helpful to those they took\nunder their protection; harmful to none. The Salvans were hideous,\nwild, and fierce, delighting in mischief and destruction, with fiery\nserpents for their chief companions. They seem to have done all the\nmischief they could as long as their sway lasted, but they were scared\nby advancing civilization; and I have a ludicrous description of how\nthey stood gazing down in stupid wonderment from their Dolomite peaks,\nwhen the first ploughs were brought into use in the valleys.\n\nSchneller, who with all his appreciation of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol, looks at\nits traditions too much through German spectacles, gives us some\nlittle account of these beings too. [222]\n\nHe has also a 'Salvanel,' who seems a male counterpart of his\nGannes, helpful and soft-natured, with no vice save a tendency to\nsteal milk. In return he teaches mankind to make butter and cheese,\nand other useful arts, and is specially kind to little children; his\nname bears some relation with the local word for the 'Jack-'o-lantern'\nreflection from glass or water. But he found also the 'Salvan' in his\npernicious character under the names of 'Bedelmon,' 'Bildermon,' and\n'Salvadegh.' But the most pernicious spirit that came in his way was\nthe 'Beatrik,' who is an unmitigated fury, [223] and the natural enemy\nand antagonist of a gentle, helpful, beauteous spirit called Angane,\nEguane, and Enguane, but possessed with his German ideas, he saw in the\nbeing so designated nothing but 'a witch, or perhaps a fairy-natured\nbeing.' [224] In another page he pairs them off more fairly with the\n'S\u00e4ligen Fr\u00e4ulein' of Germany. Here is a story of their ways which\nwas given me, but I do not know if it was founded on his at page 215,\nor independently collected:--A young woodman was surprised one day\nto meet, in the midst of his lonely toil, a beautiful maiden, who\nnodded to him familiarly, and bid him 'good day' with more than common\ninterest. Nor did her conversation end with 'good day;' she found\nenough to prattle about till night fell; and then, though the young\nwoodman had been sitting by her side instead of attending to his work,\nhe found he had a bigger faggot to carry home than he had ever made up\nwith all his day's labour before. 'That was a sweet maiden, indeed,'\nhe mused on his way home. 'And yet I doubt if she is all right. But\nher talk showed she was of the right stuff to make a housewife; but\nthen Maddalena, what will she say? ha! let her say what she will, she\nwon't stand comparing with her! I wonder if I shall see her again! And\nyet I don't think she's altogether right, either.' So he mused all\nthrough the lonely evening, and all through the sleepless night;\nand his first thought in the morning was of whether he should meet\nthat strange maiden again in the wood. In the wood he did meet her,\nand again she wiled away the day with her prattle; and again and again\nthey met. Maddalena sat at home weeping over her spinning-wheel, and\nwondering why he came no more to take her for a walk; but Maddalena\nwas forgotten, and one day it was her fate to see her former lover\nand the strange maiden married in the parish church. The woodman was\nnot surprised to find his seiren the model of a wife. The house was\nswept so clean, the clothes so neatly mended, the butter so quickly\nchurned, that though all the villagers had been shy of the strange\nmaiden, none could deny her excellent capacity. The woodman was very\nwell satisfied with his choice; but as he had always a misgiving\nthat there was something not quite right with her, he could not help\nnervously watching every little peculiarity. It was thus he came\nto notice that it was occasionally her custom to lay her long wavy\ntresses carefully outside the bedclothes at night; he thought this odd,\nand determined to watch her. One night, when she thought him asleep,\nand he was only feigning, he observed that she took a little box\nof salve from under her pillow, and rubbing it into her hair, said,\nSchiva boschi e schiva selva (shun woods and forests), and then was\noff and away in a trice. Determined to follow her, he took out the box\nof salve, and rubbing it into his hair, tried to repeat her saying,\nbut he did not recall it precisely, and said instead, Passa boschi\ne passa selvi (away through woods and forests), and away he went,\nfaster than he liked, while his clothes and his skin were torn by\nthe branches of the trees. He came, however, to the precincts of a\ngreat palace, where was a fresh green meadow, on which were a number\nof kine grazing, and some were sleek and well-favoured, while some\nwere piteously lean; and yet they all fed on the same pasture. The\npalace had so many windows that it took him a long while to count\nthem, and when he had counted them he found there were three hundred\nand sixty-five. He climbed up and looked in at one of them--it was\nthe window of a great hall, where a number of Enguane were dancing,\nand his wife in their midst. When he saw her, he called out to her;\nbut when she heard his voice, instead of coming she took to flight,\nnor could he overtake her with all his strength for running. At last,\nafter pursuing her for three days, he came to the hut of a holy hermit,\nwho asked him wherefore he ran so fast; and when he had told him, the\nhermit bid him give up the chase, for an Enguane was not a proper wife\nfor a Christian man. Then the woodman asked him to let him become a\nhermit too, and pass the remainder of his life under his guidance. To\nthis the hermit consented; so he built him a house, and they lived\ntogether in holy contemplation. One day the woodman told the hermit of\nwhat he had seen when he went forth to seek his wife; and the hermit\ntold him that the palace with three hundred and sixty-five windows\nrepresented this temporal world, with its years of three hundred and\nsixty-five days; but the fresh green meadow was the Church, in which\nthe Redeemer gave His Flesh for the food of all alike; but that while\nsome pastured on it to the gain of their eternal salvation, who were\nrepresented by the well-favoured kine, there were also the perverse\nand sinful, who eat to their own condemnation, and were represented\nby the lean and distressed kine. [225]\n\nIt is less easy to collect local traditions in W\u00e4lsch-Tirol than in\nany other part of the principality, but legends and marvellous stories\nexist in abundance; and so long as the institution of the Fil\u00f2 (or\nout-house room where village gossips meet to spend their evenings in\nsilk-spinning and recounting tales) last, they will not be allowed to\ndie out: [226] it is said that there are some old ladies who can go on\nretailing stories by the week together! And though by the nature of\nthe case these gatherings must consist almost exclusively of women,\nyet it is thought uncanny not to have any man about the place; in\nfact, that in such a case Froberte [227] is sure to play them some\ntrick. They narrate that once when this happened, one of the women\nexclaimed, 'Only see! we have no man at all among us; let's be off,\nor something will happen!' All rose to make their escape at the\nwarning, but before they had time to leave, a donna Berta knocked\nand came in. 'Padrona! donna Berta dal nas longh,' [228] said all\nthe women together, trying to propitiate her by politeness; and the\nnearest offered her a chair. 'Wait a little, and you'll see another\nwith a longer nose than I,' replied Froberte; and as she spoke, a\nsecond donna Berta knocked and entered, to whom the women gave the\nsame greeting. 'Wait a bit, and you'll see another with a longer nose\nthan I,' said the second donna Berta; and so it went on till there\nwere twelve of them. Then the first said, 'What shall we be at?' To\nwhich the second made answer, 'Suppose we do a bit of washing:' and\nthe others agreeing, they told the women to give them pails to fetch\nwater with; but the women, knowing that their intention was to have\nsuffocated them all in the wash-tubs, gave them baskets instead. Not\nnoticing the trick, they went down to the Etsch with the baskets to\nfetch water, and when they found that all their labour was in vain,\nthey ran back in a great fury; but in the meantime the women had\nall escaped to their home, and every one was safe in bed with her\nhusband. But a Froberte came to the window of each and cried, 'It is\nwell for you you have taken refuge with your husband!' The next night\nthe women were determined to pay off the brava Berta for the fright\nthey had had, so they got one of their husbands to hide himself in\nthe crib of the oxen; had he sat down with them, the Froberte would\nnot have come at all. Not seeing him, Froberte knocked and came in,\nand they greeted her and gave her a chair, just as on the previous\nnight; and the whole twelve soon arrived. Before they could begin\ntheir washing operations, however, the man sprang out of the crib,\nand put them to flight with many hard blows; so that they did not\nreturn for many a long day. The last day of Carneval was called il\ngiorno delle Froberte, probably because many wild pranks in which sober\npeople allow themselves to indulge on that day of licence were laid on\nthe shoulders of Mistress Bertha. But it is also said, that since the\nsitting of the Holy Council of Trent, the power for mischief of these\nelves has grown quite insignificant. Here are some few specimens of the\nmultifarious stories of the Fil\u00f2. [229] Once there was a man and his\nwife who had two daughters: one pretty, but vain and malicious; the\nother ugly, but docile and pious. The mother made a favourite of the\npretty daughter, but set the ugly one to do all the work of the house;\nand though she worked from morning to night, was never satisfied with\nher. One day she sent her down to the stream to do the washing; but\nthe stream was swollen with the heavy rains, and had become so rapid\nthat it carried off her sister's shift. Not daring to go home without\nit, she ran by the side of the stream, trying to fetch it back. All\nher pains were vain; the stream went on tumbling and roaring till it\nswelled out into a big river, and she could no longer even distinguish\nthe shift from the white foam on which it was borne along. At last,\nhungry and weary, she descried a house, where she knocked with a\ntrembling hand, and begged for shelter. The good woman come to the\ndoor, but advised her not to venture in, for the Salvan would soon be\nhome; but the child knew nothing about the Salvan, but a great deal\nabout the storm, and as one was brooding, and night coming on, she\ncrept in. She had not been long inside, when the Salvan came home,\nalso seeking shelter from the storm. 'What stink is this I smell of\nChristian flesh?' he roared; and the child was too truthful to remained\nconcealed, and so came forward and told all her tale. The Salvan was\nwon by her artlessness, and not only allowed her a bed and a supper,\nbut gave her a basketful of as much fine linen as she could carry,\nto make up for her loss. When her pretty sister saw what a quantity\nof fine linen the Salvan had given her, she determined to go and beg\nfor some too; but when the Salvan saw her coming, he holloaed out,\n'So you're the child who behaves so ill to your sister!' and he gave\nher such a rude drubbing, that she went back with very few clothes\non that were not in rags.\n\n\n\nIn selecting a specimen or two of the fiabe I will take first a group\ngoing by the name of 'Zuam' or 'Gian dall' Orso' (Bear-Johnny), [230]\nbecause the Wolf-boy group is a very curious one, and this is our\nnearest approach to it, [231] though it deals with a bear-child and\nnot a wolf-child; [232] and because we have already found Orso and\nOrco confounded in Italian folk-lore at Rome. The following is from\nVal di Non:--A labourer and his wife had their little boy out with\nthem as they worked in the fields. A she-bear came out of the woods\nand carried him off. She treated him well, however, and taught him\nto be strong and hardy, and when he was twenty years old she sent\nhim to his parents. He had such an appetite that he eat them out\nof house and home, and then he made his mother go and beg all over\nthe country till she had enough to buy him three hundredweight of\niron to make him a club. Armed with this club, he went forth to seek\nfortune. In the woods he met a giant carrying a leaden club called\nBarbiscat ('Cat's Beard'), and the two made friends went out together\ntill they met another giant, who carried a wooden club called Testa\ndi Molton ('Ram's Head'). They made friends and went out together\ntill they came to a house in a town where magicians lived. The giant\nwith Barbiscat knocked first, and at midnight a magician came out\nand said, 'Earthworm, wherefore are you come?' then he of Barbiscat\nwas frightened and ran away. The next night the giant with Testa di\nMolton knocked with the same result. But the third night Gian dall'\nOrso himself knocked, and he had no fear, but when the magician came\nout he knocked him down with many blows of his iron club, and went\nto fetch the other two giants. When they returned no magician was\nto be seen, only a trail of blood. They followed the trail till they\ncame to a deep pit, and Zuam dall' Orso made the giants let him down\nby a rope. In a cave he found the wounded magician and three others\nbesides, by slaying whom he delivered a beautiful maiden. The giants\ndrew her up, but abandoned him. Then he saw a ring lying on the\nground, and when he took it up and rubbed it two Moors appeared and\nasked him what he wanted. 'I want an eagle, to bear me up to earth,'\nhe said. So they brought him a big eagle, 'but,' said they, 'he must\nbe well fed the while.' So he bid them bring him two shins of beef,\nand fed him well the while, and the eagle bore him to the king; who\nfinding he was the deliverer of his daughter, killed the two giants,\nand gave him plenty of gold and silver, with which he went back to\nhis home and lived happily and in peace,--a very homely termination,\nwelcome to the mountaineer's mind. In the Lederthal version he was so\nstrong at two years old that he lifted up the mountain under which the\nbear's den was, and ran back to his mother; but at school he killed\nall the children, and knocked down the teacher and the priest, and\nwas sent to prison. Here he lifted the door off its hinges, and went\nto the judge, and made him give him a sword, with which he went forth\nto seek fortune. With the two companions picked up by the wayside, who\nfor once do not play him the trick of leaving him below in the cave, he\ndelivers three princesses, and all are made happy. In another version,\nwhere he is called 'Filomusso the Smith,' and is nurtured by an ass\ninstead of a bear, the provision of meat for feeding the eagle is\nexhausted before he reaches the earth, and he heroically tears a piece\nof flesh out of his own leg, and thus the flight can be completed.\n\n2. The following version of the story of Joseph and his Brethren is\nquaint:--A king had three sons. The two elder were grown up, while\nJacob (the Italian is not given) was still quite small, and was his\nfather's pet. One day, when the king came back from hunting, he was\nquite out of sorts because he had lost the feather (la penna dell'\nuccello sgrifone) he was wont always to wear. When everyone had sought\nfor it in vain, little Jacob came to him, and bid him eat and be of\ngood cheer for he and his brothers would find the feather. The king\npromises his kingdom to whichever of the three finds it. Little Jacob\nfinds the feather, and carries it full of joy to his brothers. The\nbrothers, jealous that he should have the kingdom, kill him and take\nthe feather to their father. A year after a shepherd finds little\nJacob's bones, and takes one of them to make a fife, but as soon as\nhe begins to play upon it the fife tells the whole story of the foul\nplay. The shepherd takes it to the king, who convicts his two sons,\nhas them put to death, and dies of grief.\n\n3. Here is a homely version of Oidipous and the Sphinx:--A poor man\nowed a large debt and had nothing to pay it with. The rich man to\nwhom he owed it came to demand the sum, and found only the poor man's\nlittle boy sitting by the hearth. 'What are you doing?' asked the\nrich man. 'I watch them come and go,' replied the boy. 'Do so many\npeople come to you then?' enquired the rich man. 'No man,' replied\nthe boy. Not liking to own himself puzzled, the rich man asked again,\n'Where is your father?' 'He's gone to plug a hole with another hole,'\nreplied the boy. Posed again, the rich man proceeded, 'And where's your\nmother?' 'She's baking bread that's already eaten,' replied the boy.\n\n'You are either very clever or a great idiot,' now retorted the rich\nman; 'will you please to explain yourself?' 'Yes, if you will reward\nme by forgiving father his debt.' The rich man accepted the terms,\nand the boy proceeded.\n\n'I'm boiling beans, and the bubbling water makes them seethe, and I\nwatch them come and go. My father is gone to borrow a sum of money\nto pay you with, so to plug one hole he is making another. All the\nbread we have eaten for a fortnight past was borrowed of a neighbour,\nnow mother is making some to pay it back with, so I may well say what\nshe is making is already eaten.'\n\nThe rich man expressed himself satisfied, and the poor man was\ndelivered from the burden of his debt.\n\n4. A poor country lad once went out into the wide world to seek\nfortune. As he went along he met a very old woman carrying a pail\nof water, with which she seemed sadly overladen. The poor lad ran\nafter her, and carried it home for her. But she was an Angana, and to\nreward him she gave him a dog and a cat, and a little silver ring,\nwhich she told him to turn round whenever he was in difficulty. The\nboy walked on, thinking little about the old woman's ring, and not\nat all believing in its efficacy. When he got tired with his walking\nhe laid down under a tree, but he was too hungry to sleep. As he lay\ntossing about he twirled the ring round without knowing what he was\ndoing, and suddenly an old woman appeared before him, just like the\none he had helped, and asked what he wanted of her. 'Something to eat\nand drink,' was the ready and natural answer. He had hardly spoken it\nwhen he found a table spread with good things before him. He made a\ngood meal, nor did he neglect to feed his dog and cat well; and then\nthey all had a good sleep. In the morning he reasoned, 'Why should I\njourney further when my ring can give one all one wants?' So he turned\nthe ring round; and when the old woman appeared he asked for a house,\nand meadows, and farming-stock, and furniture; and then he paused to\nthink of what more he could possibly desire; but he remembered the\nlessons of moderation his mother had taught him, and he said, 'No,\nit is not good for a man to have all he wants in this world.' So he\nasked for nothing more, but set to work to cultivate his land. One\nday when he was working on his land, a grand damsel came by with a\nnumber of servants riding after her. The damsel had lost her way,\nand had to ask him to lead her back to the right path. As they went,\nshe talked to him about his house and his means, and his way of life;\nand before she had got to her journey's end they were so well pleased\nwith each other that she agreed to go back with him and marry him;\nbut it was the ring she was in love with rather than with him. They\nwere no sooner married than she got possession of the ring, and by\nits power she ordered the farm-house to be changed into a palace,\nand the farm-servants into liveried retainers, and all manner of\nluxuries, and chests of coin. Nor was she satisfied with this. One\nday, when her husband was asleep in a summer-house, she ordered it\nto be carried up to the highest tip of a very high mountain, and the\npalace far away into her own country. When he woke he found himself\nall alone on the frightful height, with no one but the dog and cat,\nwho always slept the one at his head and the other at his feet. Though\nhe was an expert climber it was impossible to get down from so sharp a\npeak, so he sat down and gave himself up to despair. The cat and dog,\nhowever, comforted him, and said they would provide the remedy. They\nclambered down the rugged declivity, and ran on together till they came\nto a stream which puss could not cross, but the dog put her on his\nback and swam over with her; and without further adventure they made\ntheir way to the palace where their master's wife lived. With some\ncleverness they manoeuvred their way into the interior, but into the\nbed-room there seemed no chance of effecting an entrance. They paced\nup and down hour by hour, but the door was never opened. At last,\nwhen all was very still, a mouse came running along the corridor. The\ncat pounced on the mouse, who pleaded hard for mercy in favour of\nher seven small children. 'If I restore you to liberty,' said the\ncat, 'you must do something for me in return.' The mouse promised\neverything; and the cat instructed her to gnaw a hole in the door,\nand fetch the ring out of the princess's mouth, where she made no\ndoubt she kept it at night for safety. The mouse kept her word, and\nobeying her directions punctually, soon returned with the ring; and\noff the cat and dog set on their return home, in high glee at their\nsuccess. It rankled, however, in the dog's mind, that it was the cat\nwho had all the glory of recovering the treasure; and by the time\nthey had got back to the stream he told her that if she would not\ngive him the satisfaction of carrying the ring the rest of the way,\nhe would not carry her over it. The cat would not accept his view,\nand a fight ensued, in the midst of which the ring escaped them both\nand fell into the water, where it was caught by a fish. The cat was in\ndespair, but the dog plunged in and seized the fish, and by regaining\nthe ring earned equal right to the merit of its recovery, and they\nclambered together in amity. Their master was rejoiced to receive\nhis ring once more, and by its power he got back his homestead and\nfarm-stock, and sent for his mother to live with him, and all his life\nthrough took great care of his faithful dog and cat; but the perverse\nprincess he ordered the ring to transfer in the summer-house to the\npeak whither she would have banished him. When all this was set in\norder he threw away the ring, because he said it was not well for a\nman to have all his wishes satisfied in this world. [233]\n\nThe following legend of St. K\u00fcmmerniss is very popular in\nTirol. Churchill, in his 'Titian's Country,' mentions a chapel on the\nborders of Cadore and W\u00e4lsch-Tirol, where she is represented just as\nthere described, but he does not appear to have inquired into its\nsymbolism. There was once a heathen king who had a daughter named\nK\u00fcmmerniss, who was fair and beautiful beyond compare. A neighbouring\nking, also a heathen, sought her in marriage, and her father gave his\nconsent to the union; but K\u00fcmmerniss was distressed beyond measure,\nfor she had vowed in her own heart to be the bride of heaven. Of\ncourse her father could not understand her motives, and to force her\nto marry put her into a hard prison. From the depths of the dungeon\nK\u00fcmmerniss prayed that she might be so transformed that no man should\nwish to marry her; and in conformity with her devoted petition,\nwhen they came to take her out of the prison they found that all\nher beauty was gone, and her face overgrown with long hair like a\nman's beard. When her father saw the change in her he was indignant,\nand asked what had befallen her. She replied that He whom she adored\nhad changed her so, to save her from marrying the heathen king after\nshe had vowed herself to be His bride alone. 'Then shall you die,\nlike Him you adore,' was her father's answer. She meekly replied that\nshe had no greater desire than to die, that she might be united with\nHim. And thus her pure life was taken a sweet sacrifice; and whoso\nwould like her be altogether devoted to God, and like her obtain their\npetition from heaven, let them honour her, and cause her effigy to\nbe painted in the church. So many believed they found the efficacy of\nher intercession, that they set up memorial images of her everywhere,\nand in one place they set one up all in pure gold. A poor minstrel once\ncame by that way with his violin; and because he had earned nothing,\nand was near starving, he stood before St. K\u00fcmmerniss and played his\nprayer on his violin. Plaintive and more plaintive still grew his\nbeseeching notes, till at last the saint, who never sent any away\nempty, shook off one of her golden shoes, and bid him take it for an\nalms. The minstrel carried the golden shoe to a goldsmith, and asked\nhim to buy it of him for money; but the goldsmith, recognizing whence\nit came, refused to have anything to do with sacrilegious traffic,\nand accused him of stealing it. The minstrel loudly protested his\ninnocence, and the goldsmith as loudly vociferated his accusation,\ntill their clamour raised the whole village; and all were full of fury\nand indignation at the supposed crime of the minstrel. As their anger\ngrew, they were near tearing him in pieces, when a grave hermit came\nby, and they asked him to judge the case. 'If it be true that the man\nobtained one shoe by his minstrelsy, let him play till he obtain the\nother in our sight,' was his sentence; and all the people were so\npleased with it, that they dragged the minstrel back to the shrine\nof St. K\u00fcmmerniss. The minstrel, who had been as much astonished as\nanyone else at his first success, scarcely dared hope for a second,\nbut it was death to shrink from the test; so he rested his instrument\non his shoulder, and drew the bow across it with trembling hand. Sweet\nand plaintive were the shuddering voice-like tones he sent forth before\nthe shrine; but yet the second shoe fell not. The people began to\nmurmur; horror heightened his distress. Cadence after cadence, moan\nupon moan, wail upon wail, faltered through the air, and entranced\nevery ear and palsied every hand that would have seized him; till\nat last, overcome with the intensity of his own passionate appeal,\nthe minstrel sank unconscious on the ground. When they went to raise\nhim up, they found that the second golden shoe was no longer on the\nsaint's foot, but that she had cast it towards him. When they saw that,\neach vied with the other to make amends for the unjust suspicions\nof the past. The golden shoes were restored to the saint; but the\nminstrel never wanted for good entertainment for the rest of his life.\n\n'Puss in Boots' figures in the Folklore of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol as 'Il Conte\nMartin della Gatta;' its chief point of variation is that no boots\nenter into it at all, otherwise the action of the cat is as usual in\nother versions.\n\nThere is another class of stories in which the townspeople indulge at\nthe expense of the uninstructed peasants in outlying districts, and\nwhich their extreme simplicity and na\u00efvet\u00e9 occasionally justify. I\nmust not close my notice of the Volklore of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol without\ngiving some specimens of these. It may be generally observed that\nstories which have no particular moral point, and are designed only\nto amuse without instructing, are as frequent in the Trentino as they\nare rare in the German divisions of Tirol.\n\nTurlul\u00f9 [234] was such a simple boy that he could not be made to\ndo anything aright; and what was worst was, he thought himself so\nclever that he would always go off without listening to half his\ninstructions. One day his mother sent him with her last piece of\nmoney to buy a bit of meat for a poor neighbour; 'And mind,' she said,\n'that the butcher doesn't give you all bone.' 'Leave that to me!' cried\nTurlul\u00f9 without waiting for an explanation; and off he went to the\ntown. The butcher offered him a nice piece of leg of beef. 'No, no,\nthere's bone to that,' cried Turlul\u00f9; 'that won't do.' The butcher,\nprovoked, offered him a lump of lights. Turlul\u00f9 seeing it look so\nsoft, and no bone at all to it, went off with it quite pleased, but\nof course the poor neighbour had to starve. When his mother found what\nhe had done, she was in great distress, for she had no money left; so\nshe sent him with a piece of home-spun linen to try to sell it. 'But\nmind you don't waste your time talking to gossiping old women,' she\nsaid. 'Leave that to me, mother,' cried Turlul\u00f9; and off he ran. As he\ngot near the market-place, he began crying, 'Fine linen! who wants to\nbuy fine linen!' Several countrywomen, who had come up to town to make\npurchases, came to look at the quality. 'Go along, you gossiping old\nthings; don't imagine I'm going to sell it to you!' cried Turlul\u00f9,\nand he ran away from them. As he ran on he saw a capitello [235]\nby the wayside. When he saw the image of the Blessed Virgin, looking\nso grave and calm, he said, 'Ah, you are no gossip, you shall have\nmy linen;' and he threw it at her feet. 'Come, pay me!' he cried\npresently; but of course the figure moved not. 'Ah, I see, you've\nnot got the money to-day; I will come back for it to-morrow.' When he\ncame back on the morrow the linen had been picked up by a passer-by,\nbut no money was forthcoming. 'Pay me now,' said Turlul\u00f9; but still\nthe figure was immovable. Again and again he repeated the demand,\ntill, finding it still unheeded, he took off his belt, and hit hard\nand fast upon the image. So great was his violence, that in a very\nshort time he had knocked it to the ground; and lo and behold, inside\nthe now uncovered pedestal were a heap of gold pieces, which some\nmiser had concealed there for greater security. 'My mother herself\nwill own this is good pay for the linen,' cried Turlul\u00f9, as he filled\nhis pockets, 'and for once she won't find fault.' His way home lay\nalong the edge of the pond, and as he passed the ducks were crying,\n'Quack! quack! quack!' Turlul\u00f9 thought they were saying Quattro,\nmeaning that he had four pieces of gold. 'That's all you know about\nit,' cried Turlul\u00f9; 'I've got many more than four, many more.' But\nthe ducks continued to cry 'Quack.' 'I tell you there are more than\nfour,' reiterated Turlul\u00f9 impetuously, but the ducks did not alter\ntheir strain. 'Then take them, and count them yourselves, and you'll\nsee what a lot there are!' So saying, he threw the whole treasure\ninto the mud; and as the ducks, scared by the noise, left off their\n'quack,' he satisfied himself that he had convinced them, and went\nhome to boast to his mother of the feat.\n\nA showman came through a village with a dancing-bear. The people went\nout to see him, and gave him plenty of halfpence. 'Suppose we try our\nluck, and go about showing a bear too; it seems a profitable sort of\ntrade,' said one of the lookers-on to another. 'Ay, but where shall\nwe find one?' objected the man addressed. 'Oh, there must be bears\nto be found; it needs only to go out and look for them.' They went\nout to look for a bear, and at last really found one, [236] which ran\nbefore them and plunged into a cave. 'I'll tell you what we'll do,'\nsaid the peasant who had proposed the adventure, 'I'll creep into the\ncave and seize the bear, and you take hold of my legs and pull us both\nout together.' The other assented; and in went the first. But the bear,\ninstead of letting him seize it, bit off his head. The other pulled\nhim out as agreed, but was much astonished to find him headless. 'Well,\nto be sure!' he cried, 'I never noticed the poor fellow came out this\nmorning without his head. I must go home and ask his wife for it.' So\nsaying, he ran back to the man's house. 'I say, neighbour,' he cried,\n'did you happen to notice, when your husband went out this morning,\nwhether he had his head on?' 'I never thought to look,' replied the\nwife, 'but I'll run up and see if he left it in bed; but tell me,'\nshe added, 'will he catch cold for going out without his head on?' 'I\ndon't know as to that,' replied the man; 'but if he should want to\nwhistle he might find it awkward!'\n\nA woman working in the fields one day saw a snail, which spread out its\nhorns as she looked at it. In great alarm, she ran to the chief man\nof the parish, and told him what she had seen. He, too, was horribly\nfrightened, but he mastered his fear, as became the dignity of his\noffice. In order to provide duly for the safety of his village,\nhe sent two trustworthy men with a large sum of money to Trent, to\nbuy a sharp sword; and till their return placed all the able-bodied\nmen on guard. When the man brought the sharp sword back from Trent,\nhe called the heads of the Commune together, and said to them: 'I will\nnot exercise my right of sending any of you in peril of his life, but\nI ask you which of you is ready to encounter this great danger, and\nwhoever has the courage shall receive a great reward.' Hereupon two of\nthe most valiant came forward as volunteers, and were invested with the\nsharp sword. In solemn silence they marched boldly to the field where\nthe snail was, and they saw him sitting on the edge of a rotten leaf;\nbut at the moment when they had screwed up their courage to smite him\nwith the edge of the sword, the breeze blew down the leaf and the snail\nwith it. They, however, thought the snail was preparing to attack them,\nand ran away so fast that they tumbled over the edge of an abyss.\n\nThe people of a certain village were envious because the church tower\nof the neighbouring village was higher than theirs. So they held\na council to consider what remedy they could apply. No one could\nthink of anything to propose, till the oldest and wisest of them\nat last rose and advised that a great heap of hay should be laid\nby the side of their tower, so that it might eat and grow strong,\nand increase in height. The counsel was received with applause,\nand every one cheerfully brought his quota to the common sacrifice,\ntill there was a mighty heap of hay laid at the base of the church\ntower. All the horses and asses that went by, finding such a fine\nprovision of provender laid out for them, ate the hay; but the\npeople seeing the heap diminish, were quite satisfied, and said,\n'Our tower must be beginning to grow, you see how fast it eats!'\n\nIn W\u00e4lsch-Tirol the graves are not decked with flowers on All Souls'\nDay, as in Germany, but on the other hand it is customary for the\nparish clergy to gather their flocks round them, and say the Rosary\nkneeling amid the graves. Doles of bread, locally called cuzza, and\nalms, are given away to the poor on that day, and in some places a\nparticular soup made of beans. The symbolism was formerly carried so\nfar, that these alms, devoted to the refreshment of the souls of the\ndeparted, were actually laid on the graves, as if it was supposed that\nthe holy souls would come out and partake of the material food. And\nthus some even placed vessels of cold water as a special means of\nsolace from their purgatorial pains. [237] In the north of Italy,\nthe feast of Sta. Lucia (December 13) holds the place of that of\nSt. Nicholas among children in Germany; in W\u00e4lsch-Tirol the children\nhave the advantage of keeping both.\n\nIn Val Arsa, part of the loaves baked on Christmas Eve are kept,\nas Cross-buns used to be among us. In Folgareit they have a curious\ngame for Christmas-tide. A number of heaps of flour, according to the\nnumber of the household, are arranged on the table by the father of\nthe family, some little present being covered up in each; when they are\nthus prepared the family is admitted, and the choice of places decided\nby various modes of contest. In several parts, particularly in the\nRabbithal, the Lombard [238] custom prevails of putting a huge log on\nthe fire, called the Zocco di Natale and the Zocco di ogni bene, that\nit may burn all night and keep the Divine Infant from the cold. The\nidea, more or less prevalent all over Christendom, that beasts have\nthe gift of speech on Christmas Eve, prevails here no less. A story\nis told of a peasant who determined to sit up and listen to what his\noxen said. 'Where shall we have to go to-morrow?' he heard one say. 'We\nshall have to fetch the boards for our master's coffin,' replied his\ncompanion. The man was so shocked, that he went to bed and died next\nday. Animals are blessed on St. Anthony's day (January 18), as in Rome.\n\nCarnival is celebrated with representations partaking somewhat of\nthe character of 'Passion Plays,' though always with more or less\nhumorous treatment of their subject. Till lately there lingered a\ncurious pastime at this season, in which on Gioved\u00ec grasso there was\na contest, according to fixed rules, between the masked and unmasked\ninhabitants, for certain cakes (gnocchi) made of Indian corn, whence\nthe day is still called Gioved\u00ec dei gnocchi. It commemorated a fight\nbetween the men of Trent and them of Feltre, who tried to carry off\ntheir provision while they were building the walls of Trent, in the\ntime of Theodoric King of the Visigoths. S. Urban is considered the\npatron of vineyards in Etschland, and on his feast his images are\nhung with bunches of grapes.\n\nHere are a few specimens of their popular sayings and customs. When\nit thunders the children say, Domeniddio va in carozza. The chirping\nof a cricket, instead of being reckoned a lucky token, forebodes\ndeath. Sponsors are regarded a person's nearest relations, and at\ntheir funeral they go as chief mourners before all others. Marriages\nin May are avoided. The reason why the bramble always creeps along,\ninstead of growing erect, is, because once a thorny bramble branch\ncaught the hair of the Blessed Virgin; before that it grew erect like\nother trees. Cockchafers are blind, because one of them once flew\ninto the Blessed Virgin's face and startled her; before that they\nhad sight. Swallows are called uccelli della Madonna, but I have not\nascertained the reason. Scorpions, which are venomous in Italy, are\nnot so in the Italian Tirol, because one fell once into St. Vigilius'\nchalice at Mass. I will conclude with some popular riddles, showing\na traditionary observation of the movements of the heavenly bodies,\nbut not much humour:\n\n\n            Due viandanti,\n            Due ben stanti,\n            E un cardinal? [239]\n\n            Gh' \u00e8 'n pr\u00e0\n            Tutto garofal\u00e0:\n    Quanca se vien el Papa con tutta la s\u00f4 paperia\n    En gar\u00f2fol sol no l'\u00e8 bon de portar via? [240]\n\n            Piatto sopra piatto,\n            Uomo ben armato,\n            Donna ben vestita.\n            Cavalleria ben fornita? [241]\n\n\nC'\u00e8 un palazzo, vi son dodici camere, ognuna ne ha trenta travi,\ne vi son due che si corrono sempre l'uno dietro all' altro e non si\nraggiungono mai? [242]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n        O mein Tirol! wie ich mit Schmerzentz\u00fccken\n        Dich nun geschaut vor meinen feuchten Blicken.\n        So lebt dein r\u00fchrend Bild im tiefsten Sinn.\n        Nimm denn, Tirol, des Schmerzbegeistrungstrunk'nen,\n        Des ganz in dich Verlornen und Versunk'nen\n        Liebvolles Lebewohl, mit Liebe hin!\n\n                                            Eduard Silesius.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\n\n[1] This is what the introduction of manufactories is doing in Italy\nat this moment. The director of a large establishment in Tuscany,\nwhich devours, to its own share, the growth of a whole hill-side every\nyear, smiled at my simplicity when I expressed regret at hearing that\nno provision was made for replacing the timber as it is consumed.\n\n[2] Except the Legends of the Marmolata, which I have given in\n'Household Stories from the Land of Hofer; or, Popular Myths of Tirol,'\nI hardly remember to have met any concerning its prominent heights.\n\n[3] I published much of the matter of the following pages in the\nfirst instance in the Monthly Packet, and I have to thank the Editor\nfor my present use of them.\n\n[4] See Steub '\u00dcber die Urbewohner R\u00e4tiens und ihren Zusammenhang mit\nden Etruskern. M\u00fcnich, 1843,' quoted in Dennis' Cities and Cemeteries\nof Etruria, I. Preface, p. xlv.\n\n[5] See it in use below, p. 28, and comp. Etruscan Res. p. 302, note.\n\n[6] Somewhat like pleurer. A good many words are like French, as\ngutschle, a settle (couche); schesa, a gig; and gespusa, mentioned\nabove, is like \u00e9pouse; and au, for water, is common over N. Tirol,\nas well as Vorarlberg, e.g. infra, pp. 24, 111. &c.\n\n[7] Comp. Etrus. Res. 339-41.\n\n[8] Several places have received their name from having grown round\nsuch a hut; some of these occur outside Vorarlberg, as for instance\nK\u00fchthei near St. Sigismund (infra, p. 331) in the Lisenthal, and\nNiederthei in the OEtzthal.\n\n[9] Comp. ma = earth, land, Etrus. Res. pp. 121, 285.\n\n[10] Comp. subulo, Etrus. Res. 324. Dennis i. 339.\n\n[11] Infra, p. 411.\n\n[12] See e.g., infra, p. 202.\n\n[13] Etrus. Res. p. 330.\n\n[14] P. 79.\n\n[15] Professor Max M\u00fcller, Chips from a German Workshop.\n\n[16] Rev. G. W. Cox, Prof. De Gubernatis, Dr. Dasent, &c.\n\n[17] In the Contemporary Review for March 1874.\n\n[18] Mr. Cox had pointed it out before him, however, and more fully,\nMythology of the Aryan Nations, ii. 200.\n\n[19]    L'una vegghiava a studio della culla,\n          E consolando usava l'idioma,\n          Che pria li padri e le madri trastulla:\n        L'altra traendo alla rocca la chioma\n          Favoleggiava con la sua famiglia\n        De' Troiani, e di Fiesole, e di Roma.\n\n                        Dante. Paradiso, xv. 120 5.\n\n[20] Tullio Dandolo.\n\n[21] Depping, Romancero, Preface.\n\n[22] The usual fate of relying on Road-books. Ours, I forget whether\nAmthor's or Trautwein's, said there was regular communication between\nOberriet and Feldkirch, and nothing could be further from the fact,\nas will be seen a few pages later.\n\n[23] If Pf\u00e4ffers is visited by rail (see p. 23), it is convenient to\ntake it before Feldkirch.\n\n[24] See further quaint details and historical particulars in Vonbun,\nSagen Vorarlbergs, p. 103-5.\n\n[25] Vonbun, pp. 113-4.\n\n[26] Historical particulars in Vonbun, pp. 110-1.\n\n[27] Vonbun, pp. 86-7.\n\n[28] It may also be reached by railway as it is but three or four\nmiles from Ragatz, two stations beyond Buchs (p. 13).\n\n[29] It has been suggested by an eminent comparative mythologist that\nit is natural Luc-ius should be said to have brought 'the Light of\nthe Gospel' to men of Licht-enstein.\n\n[30] The traitor was loaded with heavy armour and thrown over the Ill\nprecipice. See Vonbun's parallel with the tradition of the Tarpeian\nrock, p. 99 n. 2.\n\n[31] Notably at Raggal, Sonntag, Dam\u00fcls, Luterns, and also in\nLichtenstein.--Vonbun, pp. 107-8.\n\n[32] Infra, Chapter viii., p. 238.\n\n[33] Vonbun, pp. 92-3.\n\n[34] Some analogous cases quoted in Sagas from the Far East, pp. 365,\n383-5.\n\n[35] Father! take me also with you.\n\n[36] Vonbun, pp. 115-7.\n\n[37] The story of its curious success against the Bavarians in 1703,\np. 287-8. From Landeck there is a fine road (the description of\nwhich belongs to Snitt-Tirol), over the Finsterm\u00fcnz and Stelvio,\nto the baths of Bormio or Worms.\n\n[38] The chief encounter occurred at a place called Le Tezze, near\nPrimolano, on the Venetian border, where the Tiroleans repulsed the\nItalians, in numbers tenfold greater than their own, and no further\nattempt was made. The anniversary is regularly observed by visiting\nthe graves on August 14; mentioned below at Le Tezze.\n\n[39] Following are the names of the fourteen, but I have never met\nany one who could explain the selection. 1. S. Acatius, bishop in\nAsia Minor, saved from death in the persecutions under Decius, 250,\nby a miracle he performed in the judgment hall where he was tried,\nand in memory of which he carries a tree, or a branch of one, in\npictures of him. 2. S. \u00c6gidius (Giles, in German, Gilgen), Hermit,\nof Nimes, nourished in his cell by the milk of a hind, which, being\nhunted, led to the discovery of his sanctity, an episode constantly\nrecurring in the legendary world. Another poetical legend concerning\nhim is that a monk, having come to him to express a doubt as to the\nvirginity of Our Lady, S. Giles, for all answer traced her name in\nthe sand with his staff, and forthwith full-bloom lilies sprang up\nout of it. 3. S. Barbara. A maiden whom her heathen father shut up\nin a tower, that nothing might distract her attention from the life\nof study to which he devoted her; among the learned men who came\nto enjoy her elevated conversation came a Christian teacher, and\nconverted her; in token of her belief in the doctrine of the Trinity\nshe had three windows made in her tower, and by the token her father\ndiscovered her conversion, delivered her to judgment, and she suffered\nan incredible repetition of martyrdoms. She is generally painted with\nher three-windowed tower in her hand. 4. S. Blase, Bishop of Sebaste\nand Martyr, A.D. 288. He had studied medicine, and when concealed in\nthe woods during time of persecution, the wild beasts used to bring\nthe wounded of their number to his feet to be healed. Men hunting\nfor Christians to drag to justice, found him surrounded by lions,\ntigers, and bears; even in prison he continued to exercise his healing\npowers, and from restoring to life a boy who had been suffocated by\nswallowing a fishbone, he is invoked as patron against sore throat. He\ntoo suffered numerous martyrdoms. 5. S. Christopher. 6. S. Cyriacus,\nMartyr, 309, concerning whom many legends are told of his having\ndelivered two princesses from incurable maladies. 7. S. Dionysius,\nthe Areopagite, converted by S. Paul, and consecrated by him Bishop\nof Athens, afterwards called to Rome by S. Peter, and made Bishop of\nParis. 8. S. Erasmus, a bishop in Syria, after enduring many tortures\nthere, he was thrown into prison, and delivered by an angel, who\nsent him to preach Christianity in Italy, he died at Gaeta 303. At\nNaples and other places he is honoured as S. Elmo. 9. S. Eustachius,\noriginally called Placidus, a Roman officer, converted while hunting\nby meeting a stag which carried a refulgent cross between its horns;\nhis subsequent reverses, his loss of wife and children, the wonderful\nmeeting with them again, and the agency of animals throughout, make his\none of the most romantic of legends. 10. S. George. 11. S. Catherine\nof Alexandria. 12. S. Margaret. 13. S. Pantaleone, another student\nof medicine; when, after many tortures, he was finally beheaded, the\nlegend tells us that, in token of the purity of his life, milk flowed\nfrom his veins instead of blood, A.D. 380. 14. S. Vitus, a Sicilian,\ninstructed by a slave, who was his nurse, in the Christian faith\nin his early years; his father's endeavours to root out his belief\nwere unavailing, and he suffered A.D. 303, at not more than twelve\nyears of age. The only link I can discover in this chain of saints is\nthat they are all but one or two, whose alleged end I do not know, as\nS. Christopher, credited with having suffered a plurality of terrible\nmartyrdoms. To each is of course ascribed the patronage over some\nspecial one of the various phases of human suffering.\n\n[40] P. 12.\n\n[41] Among these not the least remarkable were some specimens of the\nunbrimmed beaver hat, somewhat resembling the Grenadier's bear-skin,\nonly shorter, which is worn by the women in various parts of Tirol\nand Styria.\n\n[42] The bell called in other countries the Elevation bell, is in\nGermany called the Wandlung, or change-of-the-elements bell. The\nidiom was worth preserving here, as it depicts more perfectly the\nsolemnity of the moment indicated.\n\n[43] The threefold invocation, supposed to be supremely efficacious.\n\n[44] In Tirol the roofs are frequently made of narrow overlapping\nplanks, weighed down by large stones. Hence the origin of the German\nproverb, 'If a stone fall from the roof, ten to one but it lights on\na poor widow;'--equivalent to our 'Trouble never comes alone.'\n\n[45] 'May God reward it.'\n\n[46] The frontispiece to this volume (very much improved by the artist\nwho has drawn it on the wood).\n\n[47] Of the Brixenthal and the Gebiet der grossen Ache we shall have\nto speak in a later chapter, in our excursion 'from W\u00f6rgl to Vienna.'\n\n[48] The comparative mythologist can perhaps tell us why this story\ncrops up everywhere. I have had occasion to report it from Spain in\nPatra\u00f1as. Curious instances in St\u00f6ber Sagen des Elsasses.\n\n[49] S. Leonard is reckoned the patron of herds. See Pilger durch\nTirol, p. 247.\n\n[50] Anna Maria Taigi, lately beatified in Rome, was also a\nmaid-servant.\n\n[51] I have throughout the story reconciled, as well as I could,\nthe various versions of every episode in which local tradition\nindulges. One favourite account of Ottilia's end, however, is so\ndifferent from the one I have selected above, that I cannot forbear\ngiving it also. It represents Ottilia rushing in despair from her\nbed and wallowing in the enclosure of the pigs, whence, with all\nHenry's care, she could not be withdrawn alive. All the strength of\nhis retainers was powerless to restrain the beasts' fury, and she\nwas devoured, without leaving a trace behind; only that now and then,\non stormy nights, when the pigs are grunting over their evening meal,\nsome memory of their strange repast seems to possess them, and the\nwail of Ottilia is heard resounding hopelessly through the valley.\n\n[52] Grimm has collected (Deutsche Sagen, Nos. 349 and 350) other\nversions of the tradition of oxen deciding the sites of shrines which,\nlike the story of the steeple, meets us everywhere. A similar one\nconcerning a camel is given in St\u00f6ber's Legends of Alsace.\n\n[53] It is perhaps to be reckoned among the tokens of Etruscan\nresidence among the Rh\u00e6tian Alps, for Mr. Isaac Taylor finds that the\nword belongs to their language. (Etruscan Researches, pp. 333, 380.)\n\n[54] 'Hulda was supposed to delight in the neighbourhood of lakes\nand streams; her glittering mansion was under the blue waters, and\nat the hour of mid-day she might be seen in the form of a beautiful\nwoman bathing and then disappearing.'--Wolf, Deutsche G\u00f6tterlehre. See\nalso Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, pp. 164-8.\n\n[55] One version of the legend says, the Frozen Wall was formed out\nof the quantities of butter the people had wasted.\n\n[56] This excursion was made on occasion of a different journey\nfrom that mentioned in Chapter i. Of course, if taken on the way\nfrom Kufstein to Innsbruck, you would take the Wildsch\u00f6nau before\nthe Zillerthal.\n\n[57] Whoever comes into the Zillerthal is sure to visit it a second\ntime.\n\n[58] In the Vintschgau (see infra) the leading cow has the title\nof Proglerin, from the dialectic word proglen, to carry one's head\nhigh. She wears also the most resounding bell.\n\n[59] 'Kaspar my name: from the East I came: I came thence with\ngreat speed: five thousand miles in fourteen days: Melchior, step\nin.' Zingerle gives a version of the whole set of rimes.\n\n[60] See Sitten Br\u00e4uche u. Meinungen des Tiroler Volks, p. 81.\n\n[61] Its origin may be traced further back than this, perhaps. The cat\nwas held to be the sacred animal of Freia (Schrader, Germ. Myth.), and\nthe word freien, to woo, to court, is derived from her name. (Nork.)\n\n[62] The merry mocking laugh was a distinguishing characteristic\nof Robin Goodfellow. 'Mr. Launcelot Mirehouse, Rector of Pestwood,\nWilts, did aver to me, super verbum sacerdotis, that he did once heare\nsuch a lowd laugh on the other side of a hedge, and was sure that\nno human lungs could afford such a laugh.'--John Aubrey, in Thoms'\nAnecdotes and Traditions, Camb. Camden Society, 1839.\n\n[63]    O woe! the plough like fire glows,\n        And no one how to help me knows.\n\n[64]    Released am I now, God be praised,\n        And the bound-stone again rightly placed.\n\n[65] The haunting cobbler--a popular name for 'the wandering Jew';\nin Switzerland they call him 'Der Umgehende Jud.'\n\n[66] (The souls of all unbaptized children.) B\u00f6rner, Volkssagen,\np. 133.\n\n[67] A precisely similar superstition is mentioned in Mrs. Whitcomb's\nrecently published volume as existing in Devonshire. We shall meet\nBerchtl again in the neighbouring 'Gebiet der Grossen Ache' on our\nexcursion from 'W\u00f6rgl to Vienna.'\n\n[68] Procula is the name given her in the Apocryphal Gospels.\n\n[69] 'It is now known that such tales are not the invention of\nindividual writers, but that they are the last remnants--the detritus,\nif we may say so--of an ancient mythology; that some of the principal\nheroes bear the nicknames of old heathen gods; and that in spite of\nthe powerful dilution produced by the admixture of Christian ideas,\nthe old leaven of heathendom can still be discovered in many stories\nnow innocently told by German nurses, of saints, apostles, and the\nVirgin Mary.'--Max M\u00fcller, Chips from a German Workshop.\n\n[70] Compare Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations, vol. ii. p. 364,\nand passim.\n\n[71] Max M\u00fcller. Review of Dasent's Works.\n\n[72] Max M\u00fcller. Comparative Mythology.\n\n[73] A tradition still held of the Berchtl in many parts of Tirol.\n\n[74] Nork. Mythologie der Volkssagen.\n\n[75] Abb\u00e9 Banier. Mythology Explained from History. Vol. ii. Book 3,\np. 564, note a.\n\n[76] Nork, Banier, &c. Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations,\nvol. i. pp. 317-8 and note, gives other connexions of the Legend;\nand at vol. ii. p. 306, and note to p. 365.\n\n[77] M. M\u00fcller. Review of Kelley's Indo-European Traditions.\n\n[78] Weber says the only accusation was grounded on a pasquinade\nagainst Claudia found among his papers, but that he should calumniate\nher seems inconsistent with his general character. Though his unsparing\nlampoons on his adversaries had excited them more than anything else\nagainst him.\n\n[79] Compare Gebhart, vol. ii. p. 240.\n\n[80] Near Innsbruck.\n\n[81] Staffler, Das Deutsche Tirol, vol. i. p. 751; and Thaler,\nGeschichte Tirols v. der Urzeit, p. 279.\n\n[82] Ball's Central Alps.\n\n[83] Pasture-ground lying at the base of a mountain.\n\n[84] Alpine herdsman.\n\n[85] Respecting the curious idea of the kalte Pein, consult\nAlpenburg, Mythen Tirols; Vernalken, Alpensagen; Beckstein,\nThuringer Sagenbuch. See also Dr. Dasent's remarks about Hel in\nPopular Tales from the Norse; and Dante (notably Inferno, cantos\nvi. xxii. xxiv.) introduces cold among the pains of even the Christian\nidea of future punishment.\n\n[86] Here we have quite the Etruscan idea of providing against\nafter-death needs with appliances connected with the mortal\nstate. Dennis (Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, vol. i. p. 34)\nmentions more material traces of Etruscan beliefs at Matrei, on the\nnorth side of the Brenner. Somewhat further south more important\nremains still have of late years been unearthed, as we shall have\noccasion to note by-and-by.\n\nThe story in the text, in its depiction of self-devotion, has much\nanalogy with a Chinese legend told to me by Dr. Samuel Birch, of the\nBritish Museum, concerning a man who sacrifices his own life in order\nto put himself on fighting terms with a cruel spirit which torments\nthat of his dead companion. In its details it is like the story I have\npointed out in Folklore of Rome (the 'Tale of the Pilgrim Husband,'\npp. 361-3 and xvii), as the most devious from Christian teaching of\nany of the legends I have met with in Rome; and it is particularly\nnoteworthy in connexion with Mr. Isaac Taylor's summary of the\nEtruscan creed (Etruscan Researches, p. 270). 'The Turanian creed was\nAnimistic. The gods needed no gifts, but the wants of the ancestral\nspirits had to be supplied: the spirits of the departed were served\nin the ghost-world by the spirits of the utensils and ornaments which\nthey had used in life.') And in effect we find in every collection\nof the contents preserved at the opening of Etruscan tombs, not only\ngems and jewellery and household utensils, but remains also of every\nkind of food.\n\n[87] There is something like this in Dean Milman's Annals of St. Paul's\nCathedral:--'\"Others,\" adds Bishop Braybroke, \"by the instigation of\nthe devil, do not scruple to play at ball, and other unseemly games,\nwithin the church (he is speaking of St. Paul's), breaking the costly\npainted windows, to the amazement of the spectators.\"' Speaking of the\npost-Reformation period, the Dean adds: 'If, when the cathedral was\nmore or less occupied by sacred subjects, the invasion of the sanctuary\nby worldly sinners resisted all attempts at suppression; now, that the\ndaily service had shrunk into mere forms of prayer, at best into a mere\n'Cathedral Service,' ... it cannot be wondered at that the reverence,\nwhich all the splendour of the old ritual could not maintain, died\naway altogether as Puritanism rose in the ascendant.' Mr. Longman,\nhowever (The Three Cathedrals, p. 54-6), quotes the very stringent\nregulations which were issued for the repression of such practices:\nperhaps the legend constructor would say, these afford the reason why,\nthough St. Paul's was profaned like the church of Achensee, it did not\n'likewise perish.'\n\n[88] Nork (Mythologie der Volksagen, vol. ix. p. 83) gives other\nsignifications to horse-shoes found in the walls of old churches,\nbut does not mention this instance. Concerning the origin of the\nsuperstition about vampires, see Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations,\nvol. i. p. 363; also p. 63 and p. 429.\n\n[89] Gebhart.\n\n[90] 'Probably early in the ninth century.'--Scherer.\n\n[91] Burglechner. Pilger durch Tirol. Panzer. M\u00fclhenhof.\n\n[92] Lit. a 'cattle-breeding-farm.'\n\n[93] It follows that (when mountain scenery is not the special object\nwith the tourist) it is better to visit Viecht when staying at Schwatz\n(Chapters vi. and vii.) than from Jenbach, at least it is a much less\ntoilsome ascent on this side from Viecht to S. Georgenberg, the most\ninteresting point of the pilgrimage. At S. Georgenberg there is a\ngood mountain inn.\n\n[94] In his reign, 1440-90, it was that the silver-mines of Tirol\nwere discovered; and the abundant influx, to the extent of 500\ncwt. annually, of the precious metal into his treasury, led him to\ntreat its stores as exhaustless; though the richest monarch of his\ntime, his easy open-handed disposition continually led him into debt,\nand made his subjects finally induce him in his old age to resign in\nfavour of his cousin, the Emperor Maximilian I. It is a token of the\nsimplicity of the times, that one of the gravest reproaches against\nhim was that he indulged in the luxury of silk stockings! He married\nEleanor, daughter of James II. of Scotland.\n\n[95] See infra in the Stubayerthal.\n\n[96] In battle impetuous, yet merciful; in time of peace tranquil,\nand faithful to his country's laws; whether as a warrior, a subject,\nor an individual, worthy of honour as of love.\n\n[97] Steward of the salt-mines.\n\n[98] Johannisw\u00fcrmchen, fire-flies.\n\n[99] Peasants' war.\n\n[100] Burglechner.\n\n[101] Colin de Plancy, L\u00e9gendes des sept pech\u00e9s capitaux, Appendice;\nand Nork, Mythologie der Volkssagen, point out that the dragon,\nsacred to Wodin, was placed on houses, town gates, and belfries,\nas a talisman against evil influences. See also some remarks on the\ntwo-fold character of dragons in mythology in Cox's Mythology of the\nAryan Nations, i. 428.\n\n[102] Compare Leoprechting, Aus dem Lechrain, page 78. M\u00fcllenhof\nSagen der Herzogth\u00fcmer Schleswig Holstein u. Lauenburg, page 237.\n\n[103] Mother of mercy.\n\n[104] A touching story has been made out of his history in Alpen\nBlumen Tirols.\n\n[105] This was designed so as to coincide with the time when the\nfaithful throughout the world were saying the De Profundis.\n\n[106] A similar fact for the comparative mythologist is recorded\np. 123-4, in the case of the Bienerweible. While these sheets were\npreparing for the press, a singular one nearer home was brought\nunder my notice. A little girl being asked at a national school\nexamination, 'What David was before he was made king?' answered,\n'Jack the Giant-killer.' This is a noteworthy instance of the hold\nof myths on the popular mind; it did not proceed from defective\ninstruction, for the school is one of the very first in its reports,\nand the child not at all backward.\n\n[107] Concerning der feurige Mann, and the mark of his burning hand,\nsee St\u00f6ber Sagen des Elsasses, p. 222-3.\n\n[108] At page 145.\n\n[109] 'Feigen-Kaffee,' made of figs roasted and ground to powder,\nis sold throughout Austria.\n\n[110] Aubrey de Vere's Greece and Turkey.\n\n[111] Burglechner. A.D. 1409.\n\n[112] Mineral wealth--lit. Mountain-blessing.\n\n[113] I was told there that it had been reckoned that 500,000 cigars\nare smoked per diem in Tirol.\n\n[114] The date of death on the tombstone of Lukas Hirtzfogel, whom\ntradition calls the architect of this church, is 1475.\n\n[115] Brush for sprinkling holy-water.\n\n[116] See note to p. 140.\n\n[117] See p. 95.\n\n[118] See note to p. 48.\n\n[119] 'The most precious good,' or 'possession;' a Tirolean expression\nfor the Blessed Sacrament.\n\n[120] George of Freundsberg; a man of great strength; a worthy hero;\nmaster of the field in combat and war; in every battle the enemy fell\nbefore him. The honour and power he ascribed to God.\n\n[121] Maundy Thursday.\n\n[122] St\u00f6ber Sagen des Elsasses records a legend of a similar judgment\nbefalling a man who, in fury at a long drought, shot off three arrows\nagainst heaven.\n\n[123] Leichtsinnig.\n\n[124] God prosper and bless you!\n\n[125] Supra, pp. 80-2.\n\n[126] Rout of the Bavarians.\n\n[127] See pp. 151-2.\n\n[128] Grimm (Deutsche Sagen, No. 492) gives an interesting legend\nof the Hasslacherbrunnlein (half way between Kolsass and Wattens)\nand of the resistance offered by the inhabitants of Tirol to the\nRoman invasion of their country.\n\n[129] The suppression of this and several other convents, in 1783, was\na measure sufficiently unpopular to almost neutralize the popularity\nJoseph II. enjoyed as son of Maria Theresa. The suppression was not,\nhowever, accompanied by spoliation; the funds were devoted to provide\na moderate stipend to a number of women of reduced circumstances\nbelonging to noble families.\n\n[130] Stone of Obedience.\n\n[131] I have met with another sprout of this banyan at the Monastery\nof the Sacro Speco in the Papal State, where a huge fragment of rock,\nso nicely balanced that it looks as if a breath might send it over\nthe cliff, is pointed out as having stood still for centuries at the\nword of S. Benedict, who bid it 'non dannegiare i sudditi miei.'\n\n[132] Wolf, Beitr\u00e4ge zur deutschen Mythologie,\nvol. ii. pp. 17-21. M\u00fcller, Nieders\u00e4chsische Sagen, p. 51. M\u00fcllenhoff,\nSagen der Herzogth\u00fcmer Schleswig-Holstein u. Lanenburg, p. 184.\n\n[133] So strong is the prejudice in Tirol against Jews, that it is\nsaid to be most difficult to find any one who will consent to act\nthe part of Judas in the Passion plays.\n\nThere is a very strong personal dislike to Judas throughout Tirol,\nand I have also heard that the custom of burning him in effigy\noccurs in various places. Karl Blind, in the article quoted above,\n(p. 3,) accounts for this custom in the following way: 'After the\nappearance of fermenting matter it was said' (in what he calls the\ngermanic mythology) 'that there rose in course of time--even as in\nGreek mythology--first a half-human, half-divine race of giants, and\nthen a race of Gods; the Gods had to wage war against the giants and\nfinally vanquished them. Evidently the giants represent a torpid barren\nstate of things in nature, whilst the Gods signify the sap and fulness\nof life which struggles into distinct and beautiful form. There was a\ncustom among the Germanic tribes of celebrating this victory over the\nuncouth Titans by a festival, when a gigantic doll was carried round in\nGuy Fawkes manner and at last burnt. To this day there are traces of\nthe heathen practice. In some parts of Europe, so-called Judas-fires,\nwhich have their origin in the burning of the doll which represented\nthe giants or j\u00f6tun. In some places, owing to another perversion of\nthings and words, people run about on that f\u00eate-day shouting 'burn\nthe old Jew!' The j\u00f6tun was in fact, when Christianity came in, first\nconverted into Judas and then into a Jew, a transition to which the\nsimilarity of the sound of the words easily lent itself.' No doubt\nj\u00f6tun sounds very like Juden but not all coincidences are consequences,\nand it is quite possible that the old heathen custom had quite died\nout before that of burning Judas in effigy began, as it certainly had\nbefore Guy Fawkes began to be so treated. The same treatment of Judas'\nmemory occurs, too, in Spain on the day before Good Friday.\n\n[134] S. Simeon of Trent is commemorated in the Roman Breviary (on\nthe 25th March). S. Andreas of Rinn has not received this honour.\n\n[135] Keller, in his Volkslieder, p. 242, gives an analogous legend\nof a poor idiot boy, who lived alone in the forest and was never heard\nto say any words but 'Ave Maria.' After his death a lily sprang up on\nhis grave, on whose petals 'Ave Maria' might be distinctly read. It\nis a not unusual form of legend; Bagatta, Admiranda orbis Christiani,\ngives fifteen such.\n\n[136] The ballad concerning the analogous English Legend of Hugh of\nLincoln seems to demand to be remembered here:--\n\n\n    HUGH OF LINCOLN\n\n    (SHOWING THE CRUELTY OF A JEW'S DAUGHTER).\n\n    A' the boys of merry Lincoln,\n      Were playing at the ba',\n    And up it stands him, sweet Sir Hugh,\n      The flower among them a'.\n\n    He kicked the ba' there wi' his feet,\n      And keppit it wi' his knee,\n    Till even in at the Jew's window,\n      He gart the bonny ba' flee.\n\n    'Cast out the ba' to me, fair maid,\n      Cast out the ba' to me;'\n    'Never a bit,' says the Jew's daughter,\n      'Till ye come up to me.'\n\n    'Come up, sweet Hugh! come up, dear Hugh!\n      Come up and get the ba';'\n    'I winna come, I minna come,\n      Without my bonny boys a'.'\n\n    She's ta'en her to the Jew's garden,\n      Where the grass grew long and green;\n    She's pu'd an apple red and white,\n      To wyle the bonny boy in.\n\n    When bells were rung and mass was sung,\n      And every bairn went home;\n    Then ilka lady had her young son,\n      But Lady Helen had none.\n\n    She row'd her mantle her about,\n      And sair, sair, 'gan to weep:\n    And she ran into the Jew's house\n      When they were all asleep.\n\n    'The lead is wondrous heavy, mither,\n      The well is wondrous deep;\n    A keen penknife sticks in my heart,\n      'Tis hard for me to speak.'\n\n    'Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,\n      Fetch me my winding-sheet;\n    And at the back of merry Lincoln,\n      'Tis there we twa shall meet.'\n\n    Now Lady Helen she's gane hame,\n      Made him a winding-sheet;\n    And at the back o' merry Lincoln,\n      The dead corpse did her meet.\n\n    And a' the bells o' merry Lincoln\n      Without men's hands were rung;\n    And a' the books o' merry Lincoln,\n      Were read without men's tongue;\n    Never was such a burial\n      Since Adam's days begun.\n\n[137] There is a carriage-road reaching nearly to the top of the\nLanserkopf.\n\n[138] The best shops are in the Franziskanergruben.\n\n[139] Grimm, Deutsche Sagen, No. 139.\n\n[140] Under four pillars.\n\n[141] See p. 69.\n\n[142] Of the earlier history of Tirol we shall have to speak when we\ncome to Schloss Tirol and Greifenstein.\n\n[143] Consult Zoller, Geschichte der Stadt Innsbruck; and Staffler,\ndas Deutsche Tirol.\n\n[144] See p. 146.\n\n[145] For the convenience of the visitor to Innsbruck, but not to\ninterrupt the text, I subjoin here a list of the subjects. (1.) The\nmarriage of Maximilian (then aged eighteen) with Mary of Burgundy\nat Ghent. (2.) His victory over the French at Guinegate, when he was\ntwenty. (3.) The taking of Arras thirteen years later; not only are the\nfighting folk and the fortifications in this worthy of special praise,\nbut there is a bit of by-play, the careful finish of which must not be\noverlooked; and the figure of one woman in particular, who is bringing\nprovisions to the camp, is a masterpiece in itself. (4.) Maximilian is\ncrowned King of the Romans. The scene is the interior of the Cathedral\nof Aix-la-Chapelle: the Prince is seated on a sort of throne before\nthe altar; the Electors are busied with their hereditary part in the\nceremony; the dresses of the courtiers in the crowd, and the ladies\nhigh above in their tribune, are a perfect record for the costumier,\nso minute are they in faithfulness. (5.) The battle of Castel della\nPietra, or Stein am Calliano, the landscape background of which is\nexcellent; the Tirolese are seen driving the Venetians with great fury\nbefore them over the Etsch (Adige). (6.) Maximilian's entry into Vienna\n(1490), in course of the contest for the crown of Hungary after the\ndeath of Matthias Corvinus; the figure of Maximilian on his prancing\nhorse is drawn with great spirit. (7.) The siege of Stuhlweissenburg,\ntaken by Maximilian the same year; the horses in this tableau deserve\nparticular notice. (8.) The eighth represents an episode which it must\nhave required some courage to record among the acts of so glorious\na reign; it shows Maximilian receiving back his daughter Margaret,\nwhen, in 1493, Charles VIII. preferred Anne of Brittany to her. The\nFrench envoys hand to the Emperor two keys, symbols of the suzerainty\nof Burgundy and Artois, the price of the double affront of sending\nback his daughter and depriving him of his bride, for Anne had been\nbetrothed to him. [Margaret, though endowed with the high qualities of\nher race, was not destined to be fortunate in her married life: her\nhand was next sought by Ferdinand V. of Spain for his son Don Juan,\nwho died very shortly after the marriage. She was again married, in\n1508, to Philibert Duke of Savoy, who died without children three\nyears later. As Governor of the Netherlands, however, her prudent\nadministration made her very popular.] (9.) Maximilian's campaign\nagainst the Turks in Croatia. (10.) The League of Maximilian with\nAlexander VI., the Doge of Venice, and the Duke of Milan, against\nCharles VIII. of France; the four potentates stand in a palatial hall\njoining hands, and the French are seen in the background fleeing in\ndismay. (11.) The investiture at Worms of Ludovico Sforza with the\nDuchy of Milan. The portraits of Maximilian are well preserved on each\noccasion that he is introduced, but in none better than in this one:\nMaria Bianca is seen seated to the left of the throne, Sforza kneels\nbefore them; on the waving standard, which is the token of investiture,\nthe ducal arms are plainly discernible. (12.) The marriage at Brussels,\nin 1496, of Philip der Sch\u00f6ne, Maximilian's son, with Juana of Spain;\nthe Archbishop of Cambrai is officiating, Maximilian stands on the\nright side of his son: Charles Quint was born of this marriage. (13.) A\nvictorious campaign in Bohemia in 1504. The 14th represents the\nepisodes of the siege of Kufstein, recorded in the second chapter of\nthese Traditions (1504). (15.) The submission of Charles d'Egmont to\nMaximilian, 1505. The Kaiser sits his horse majestically; the Duke of\nGueldres stands with head uncovered; the battered battlements of the\ncity are seen behind them. (16.) The League of Cambrai, 1508. The\nscene is a handsome tent in the camp near Cambray; Maximilian,\nJulius II., Charles VIII., and Ferdinand V., are supposed to meet,\nto unite in league against Venice. (17.) The Siege of Padua, 1509,\nthe first result of this League; the view of Padua in the distance\nmust have required the artist to have visited the place. (18.) The\nexpulsion of the French from Milan, and reinstatement of Ludovico\nSforza, 1512. (19.) The second battle of Guinegate: Maximilian fights\non horseback; Henry VIII. leads the allied infantry, 1515. (20.) The\nconjunction of the Imperial and English forces before Terouenne:\nMaximilian and Henry are both on foot, 1513. (21.) The battle of\nVicenza, 1513. (22.) The Siege of Marano, on the Venetian coast. The\n23rd represents a noble hall at Vienna, such details as the pictures\non the walls not being omitted: Maximilian is treating with Uladisaus,\nKing of Hungary, for the double marriage of their offspring--Anna and\nLudwig, children of the latter, with Ferdinand and Maria, grandchildren\nof the former--an alliance which had its consequence in the subsequent\nincorporation of Hungary with the Empire. (24.) The defence of Verona\nby the Imperial forces against the French and Venetians.\n\n[146] Called by the French Philippe 'le Beau,' in distinction from\ntheir own 'Philippe le Bel.'\n\n[147] This monument earned Ferdinand the title of the Lorenzo de'\nMedici of Tirol.\n\n[148] St. Anthony being the patron invoked against accidents by fire;\nalso against erisypelas, which in some parts of England even is called\n'St. Anthony's fire.'\n\n[149] Weber, Das Land Tirol, vol. i. p. 218.\n\n[150] Zoller Geschickte der Stadt Innsbruck, p. 272; and Weiesegger,\nvol. vi. p. 61.\n\n[151] I have met the same hyperbole in a piece of homely Spanish\npoetry.\n\n[152] 'Now he knows how the just monarch is beloved of Heaven; his\nbeaming countenance yet testifies his joy.'\n\n[153] Nork, Mythologie der Volkssagen, p. 419.\n\n[154] Exactly the story of the fisherman and the Genius in the copper\nvessel of the Arabian Nights. It is found also in Grimm's story of\nthe Spirit in the bottle, in the Norse tale of the Master Smith;\nin that of the Lad and the Devil (Dasent); and in the Gaelic tale of\nthe Soldier (Campbell).\n\n[155] Von Alpenburg, Mythen u. Sagen Tirols.\n\n[156] See pp. 194, 270, 324-5.\n\n[157] They accepted their position with the usual Tirolese loyalty,\nand never attempted to found any claims to power on the circumstance\nof their birth.\n\n[158] Holy Trinity Church.\n\n[159] Patron saints against pestilence: viz. SS. Martha (because\naccording to her legend she built a hospital and ended her life\ntending the sick), Sebastian (because a plague was stayed in Rome at\nhis intercession), and Rocchus (because of the well-known legend of\nhis self-devotion to the plague-stricken).\n\n[160] Mentioned in the chapter on Vorarlberg, p. 23.\n\n[161] Thirteen volumes were filled with the narrations of such\n'answers' received between 1662 and 1665.\n\n[162] Picture of Mary 'Help of Christians'--Auxilium Christianorum.\n\n[163] Inglis says that Schor was the architect of this church, and\nthat he had assisted in building the Vatican.\n\n[164] It is painted on panel, thirty inches by twenty-one; the figure\nof our Lady is three quarter-length, but appears to be sitting, as the\nfoot of the Divine Infant seems to rest upon her knee. The tradition\nconcerning it is, that it represents an episode of the Flight into\nEgypt, when, as the Holy Family rested under a palm-grove, they were\novertaken by a band of robbers, headed by S. Demas, the (subsequently)\npenitent thief. The Holy Child is indeed represented clinging to His\nMother--not as in fear, or even as if need were to suggest courage\nto her, but simply as if an attack sustained in common impelled a\ncloser union of affection.\n\n[165] See pp. 123-4.\n\n[166] She was on her way to Rome, where she spent the rest of her\nlife. Alexander VII. commissioned Bernini to rebuild the Porta\ndel Popolo, and adorned it with its inscription, Felici, faustoque\ningressui, in honour of her entry.\n\n[167] See p. 280.\n\n[168] Kreidenfeuer--alarm fires, from Krei, a cry.\n\n[169] A leading spiritualist, who has also a prominent position in\nthe literary world, tells the story that one day he had missed his\nfooting in going downstairs, and was within an ace of making as fatal\na fall as Professor Phillips, when he distinctly felt himself seized,\nsupported, and saved by an invisible hand. The analogy between the\ntwo convictions is curious.\n\n[170] Consult Cesare Cant\u00f9 Storia Universale, \u00a7 xvii. cap. 21.\n\n[171] Since writing the above, I have been assured by one who has\nfrequently conversed with her, that the concealment of her name\narose from her own modesty; it was Katharina Lanz. To avoid public\nnotice, she went to live at a distance, and up to the time of her\ndeath in 1854, bore an exemplary character, living as housekeeper to\nthe priest serving the mountain church of S. Vigilius, near Rost,\nthe highest inhabited point of the Enneberg. When induced to speak\nof her exploits, she always made a point of observing that, though\nshe brandished her hay-fork, she neither actually killed or wounded\nanyone. She had heard that the French soldiers were nothing loth to\ndesecrate sacred places, and she stationed herself in the church porch\ndetermined to prevent their entrance; the churchyard had become the\ncitadel of the villagers. From her post of observation she saw with\ndismay that her people were giving way. It was then she rushed out\nand rallied them; in her impetuosity she was very near running her\nhay-fork through a French soldier, but she was saved from the deed by\nher landlord, who, encouraged by her ardour, struck him down, pushing\nher aside. The success of her sally and her subsequent disappearance\ncast a halo of mystery round her story, and many were inclined to\nbelieve the whole affair was a heavenly apparition.\n\n[172] Celebration of the Resurrection.\n\n[173] Spare your bread for the poor, and escape the fate of Frau\nH\u00fctt. See some legends forming a curious link between this, and that\nof Ottilia Milser in St\u00f6ber Sagen des Elsasses, pp. 257-8.\n\n[174] The dog's church or chapel.\n\n[175] His well-known daring, emulating that of the chamois and the\neagle, was of no avail now; for straight under him sinks the Martin's\nWall, the steepest cliff of the whole country-side.\n\nHe gazes down through that grave of clouds. He gazes abroad over that\ncloud-ocean. He glances around, and his gaze recoils.\n\nWith only the thunder-roll of the people's voices beneath, there stands\nthe Kaiser's Majesty. But not raised aloft to receive his people's\nhomage. A son of sorrow, on a throne of air, the great Maximilian\nall at once finds himself isolated, horror-stricken, and small.\n\n[176] 'With him,' says a Hungarian ballad, 'Righteousness went down\ninto the grave: and the Sun of Pest-Ofen sank towards its setting.'\n\n[177] Primisser, who took great pains to collect all the various\ntraditions of this event, mentions a favourite huntsman of the Emperor,\nnamed Oswald Zips, whom he ennobled as Hallaurer v. Hohenfelsen. This\nmay have been the actual deliverer, or may have been supposed to\nbe such, from the circumstance of the title being Hohenfelsen, or\nHighcliff; and that a patent of nobility was bestowed on a huntsman\nwould imply that he had rendered some singular service: the family,\nhowever, soon died out.\n\n[178] See chapter on Schwatz.\n\n[179] To the Editor of the 'Monthly Packet.'\n\nSir,--I think it possible that R. H. B. (to whom we owe the very\ninteresting Traditions of Tirol), and perhaps others of your readers,\nmay care to hear some of the particulars, as they are treasured by his\nfamily, of the defence of Scharnitz by Baron Swinburne. R. H. B. speaks\nof it in your number of last month. That defence was so gallant as to\ncall forth the respect and admiration even of his enemies, and Baron\nSwinburne was given permission to name his own terms of surrender.\n\nHe requested for himself, and those under him, that they might be\nallowed to retain their swords. This was granted, and the prisoners\nwere sent to Aix-la-Chapelle, where everyone was asking in astonishment\nwho were 'les prisonniers avec l'\u00e9p\u00e9e a c\u00f4t\u00e9.'\n\nThe Eagles of Austria, that had been so nobly defended by the\nEnglishman and his little band, never fell into the hands of the\nFrench. One of the Tirolese escaped, with the colours wrapped round\nhis body under his clothes, and though he was hunted among the\nmountains for months, he was never taken; and some years after he\ncame to his commander in Vienna and gave him the colours he had so\nbravely defended. They are now in possession of Baron Edward Swinburne,\nthe son of the defender of Scharnitz, who himself won, before he was\neighteen, the Order of 'the Iron Crown,' by an act that well deserves\nto be called 'a golden deed;' and ere he was twenty he had led his\nfirst and last forlorn hope, when he received so severe a wound as\nto cost him his leg, which has incapacitated him for further service.\n\nHis father received the highest military decoration of Austria,\nthat of 'Maria Teresa;' he fought at Austerlitz and Wagram; on the\nlatter occasion he was severely wounded. Later in life, he was for\nmany years Governor of Milan.\n\nHoping that a short record of true and faithful services performed\nby Englishmen for their adopted country, may prove of some interest\nto your readers, and with many thanks to R. H. B. for what has been\nof so much interest to us,\n\n\nI am, Sir, yours faithfully,\n\nSeptember, 1870.                                        A. Swinburne.\n\n[180] H\u00e4usergruppe.\n\n[181] Such offerings are met with in other parts of Tirol; in one\nplace we shall find a candle offered of equal weight to an infant's\nbody. They present a striking analogy with the Sanskrit tul\u00e2d\u00e2na or\nweight-gift; the practice of offering to a temple or Buddhist college\na gift of silver or even gold of the weight of the offerer's body\nappears not to have been infrequent and tolerably ancient. Lassen\n(Indische Alterthumsk\u00fcnde, vol. iii. p. 810) mentions an instance\nof the revival of the custom by a king named Shrikandradeva, who\noffered the weight of his own body in gold to the temple at Benares\n(circa 1025); and (vol. iv. p. 373) another in which Aloungtsethu,\nKing of Birmah, in 1101, made a similar offering in silver to a temple\nwhich he built at Buddhagay\u00e2. He refers also to earlier instances\n'in H. Burney's note 19 in As. Res. vol. xx. p. 177, and one by Fell\nin As. Res. vol. xv. p. 474.'\n\n[182] I have occasion to give one of the most remarkable legends of\nthe Oetzthal in the chapter on W\u00e4lsch-Tirol.\n\n[183] See a somewhat similar version in Nork's Mythologie der\nVolksagen, pp. 895-7.\n\n[184] Circle.\n\n[185] The sunnier and less thoughtful tone of mind in which the\nItalian particularly differs from the German character, is often to\nbe traced in their legendary stories. Those of the Germans are nearly\nalways made to convey some moral lesson; this is as often wanting in\nthose of the Italians, who seem satisfied with making them means of\namusement, without caring that they should be a medium of instruction.\n\n[186] The Passion Plays of the Brixenthal, however, are reckoned\nthe best. The performers gather and rehearse in the spring, and go\nround from village to village through the summer months, only, as\namphitheatres are improvised in the open.\n\n[187] It may be worth mentioning, as an instance of how the contagion\nof popular customs is transmitted, that on enquiring into some very\ncurious grotesque ceremonies performed in Trent at the close of the\ncarneval, and called its 'burial,' I learnt that it did not appear\nto be a Tirolean custom, but had been introduced by the soldiers of\nthe garrison who, for a long time past, had been taken from the Slave\nprovinces of the Austrian Empire, and thus a Slave popular custom has\nbeen grafted on to Tirol. W\u00e4lsch-Tirol, however, has its own customs\nfor closing the carneval, too. In some places it is burnt in effigy;\nin some, dismissed with the following dancing-song (Schnodah\u00fcpfl)\ngreeting,\n\n\n    Evviva carneval!\n    Chelige manca ancor el sal;\n    El carneval che vien\n    Lo salerem pi\u00f9 ben!\n\n\n[188] A centenary celebration of the Council was held at Trent in\n1863, at which the late lamented Cardinal von Reisach presided as\nlegate a latere.\n\n[189] This chapel has lately been restored by Loth of Munich.\n\n[190] A variant of this tradition takes the more usual form of applying\nit to the architect of the edifice, as with the Kremlin. As St\u00f6ber\ngives it from Strasburg, it was there the maker of the great clock.\n\n[191] Laste is dialectic for a smooth, steep, almost inaccessible\nchalk cliff.\n\n[192] Hence Kaiser Max was wont to call Tirol 'the heart' and 'the\nshield' of his empire.\n\n[193] St. Ingenuin was Bishop of S\u00e4ben or Seben, A.D. 585. The See,\nfounded by St. Cassian, had been long vacant, and great errors and\nabuses had taken root among the people, who in some places had relapsed\ntowards heathen customs. His success in reforming the manners of his\nflock was most extraordinary. He built a cathedral at Seben, where he\nis honoured on February 5, the anniversary of his death. St. Albuin,\none of his successors, was a scion of one of the noblest families of\nTirol; he removed the See to Brixen, A.D. 1004.\n\n[194] This is a local application of the widespread myth of the tailor,\nwho kills 'seven at one blow,' identified by Vonbun (p. 71-2) with\nthe Sage of Siegfried. Prof. Zarncke has also written a great deal\nto show Tirol's place in the Nibelungenlied.\n\n[195] Anciently Anaunium, and still by local scholars called Annaunia,\na possession of the Nonia family, not unknown to Roman history.\n\n[196] The white mulberry, whose leaves feed the silkworm, rearing which\nforms one great industry of W\u00e4lsch-Tirol, is called the Seidenbaum,\nthe silk tree.\n\n[197] Stammort, Cradle of his race.\n\n[198] See Un processo di Stregheria in Val Camonica, by Gabriele Rosa,\npp. 85, 92; and Il vero nelle scienze occulte, by the same author,\np. 43; and Tartarotti Congresso delle Lammie. lib. ii. \u00a7 iv. It is one\nof the only four such spots anywhere existing where Italian is spoken.\n\n[199] A mithraic sacrifice with several figures, sculptured in\nbas-relief, in white Carrara marble, in very perfect preservation,\nbearing the inscription:\n\n                              ILDA MARIVS\n                                 L. P.\n\nhas just been found at this very spot.\n\n[200] See pp. 164-6.\n\n[201] Too many such remnants, which the plough and the builder's\npick are continually unearthing, have been thus dispersed. It has\nbeen the favourite work of Monsignor Zanelli, of Trent, to stir up\nthe local authorities to take account of such things, and so form a\nmuseum with them in Trent.\n\n[202] Padre Tarquini--one of the rare instances of a Jesuit being\nmade a Cardinal--died, it may be remembered, in February last, only\nabout two months after his elevation. He had devoted much time to\nthe study of Etruscan antiquities; he published The Mysteries of\nthe Etruscan Language Unveiled in 1857, and later a Grammar of the\nlanguage of the Etruscans.\n\n[203] '(1.) Or it might be 'ad introductionem viri.' (2.) 'Vulcano'\nhere (precisely as in another Etruscan inscription found a few\nyears before at Cembra, and translated by Professor Giovanelli)\nfor 'ignis.' (3.) An allusion to the custom of first piercing\n(sforacchiare) the bodies of persons to be burnt in sacrifice, which\nappears from the inscription found at S. Manno, near Perugia, and\nagain from the appearance of the figures of human victims represented\nin the Tomba Vulcente. (4.) The deity of the place to which the key\nbelonged, probably, therefore, Saturn.'\n\n[204] A Tag-mahd, or 'day's mowing,' is a regular land measure in\nNorth Tirol.\n\n[205] There is no record of her summit ever having been attained\nbefore the successful ascent of Herr Grohmann, in 1864. Mr. Tucker,\nan Englishman, accomplished it the next year.\n\n[206] I have given some of the most curious of these in a collection\nof Household Stories from the Land of Hofer.\n\n[207] There is no tradition more universally spread over Tirol than\nthat which tells of judgments falling on non-observers of days of\nrest. They are, however, by no means confined to Tirol. Ludovic\nLalanne, Curiosit\u00e9s des Traditions, vol. iv. p. 136, says that the\ninstances he had collected showed it was treated as a fault most\ngrievous to heaven. 'Matthieu Paris, \u00e0 l'ann\u00e9e 1200, raconte qu'une\npauvre blanchisseuse ayant os\u00e9 travailler un jour de f\u00eate fut punie d'\nune \u00e9trange fa\u00e7on; un cochon de lait tout noir s'attacha \u00e0 sa mamelle\ngauche.' He relates one or two other curious instances--one of a\nyoung girl who, having insisted on working on a holiday, somehow got\nthe knot of her thread twisted into her tongue, and every attempt\nto remove it gave intolerable pain. Ultimately she was healed by\npraying at the Lady-altar at Noyon, and here the knot of thread was\nlong shown in the sacristy.\n\nI well remember the English counterpart in my own nursery. There\nwere, indeed, two somewhat analogous stories; and I often wondered,\nwithout exactly daring to ask, why there was so much difference\nin the tone in which they were told, for the one seemed to me as\ngood as the other. The first, which used to be treated as an utter\nimposture, was that a woman and her son surreptitiously obtained\na consecrated wafer for purposes of incantation (we have had a\nTirolean counterpart of this at Sistrans, supra pp. 221-2), and in\npursuit of their weird operation had pierced it, when there flowed\nthereout such a prodigious stream of blood that the whole place was\ninundated, and all the people drowned. The second, which was told\nwith something of seriousness in it, ('and they say, mind you, that\nactually happened,') was of a young lady who, having persisted in\nworking on Sunday in spite of all her nurse's injunctions, pricked\nher finger. No one could stop the bleeding that ensued, and she bled\nto death for a judgment; and whether it was true or not, there was a\nmonument to her in Westminster Abbey. Dean Stanley, who seems to have\nmissed nothing that could possibly be said about the Abbey, finds\nplace, I see, to notice even this tradition (pp. 219-20 and note),\nand identifies it with the monument of Elizabeth Russell (born 1575)\nin St. Edmund's Chapel. Madame Parkes-Belloc tells me she has often\nseen a wax figure of a lady (in the costume of two centuries later than\nElizabeth Russell) under a glass case in Gosfield Hall, Essex (formerly\na seat of the Buckingham family), of which a similar tradition is told.\n\n[208] It is significant of a symbolical intention that the story should\nthus allude to the Valle del Orco; the more so as I cannot hear of\nany such actual locality in Val Sugana, though 'Orco' has lent his\nname to more than one spot, as we shall see later. There is, however,\na Val d'Inferno between this valley and Predazzo.\n\n[209] Settepergole--Seven Pergolas--the name of several farms in\nW\u00e4lsch-Tirol. Pergola is the name for a vine trellised to form an\narbour, all over Italy.\n\n[210] This effect has often been noticed here by travellers.\n\n[211] Two bronze statuettes of Apollo were found here in June 1869.\n\n[212] Very like and very unlike the legend of S. Giuliano I met in Rome\n(Folklore of Rome), where he was supposed to be a native of Albano,\nand to have passed his penitential time at Compostella. G. Schott,\nWall\u00e4chische M\u00e4rchen, pp. 281 and 375, gives a similar legend applied\nto Elias in place of St. Julian.\n\n[213] Folklore of Rome, p. 320.\n\n[214] I need not repeat the characteristics of the Tirolean Norg,\nwhich I have given in the translation of the 'Rose-garden' in Household\nStories from the Land of Hofer.\n\n[215] Thorp's Northern Mythology, vol. ii. pp. 20-2.\n\n[216] Though of course mere similarity of sound may lead one absurdly\nastray; as if any one were to say that the old fables of rubbing a\nring to produce the 'Slave of the ring' was the origin of the modern\nsubstitute of ringing to summon a servant!\n\n[217] Again, Mr. Cox (Mythology of the Aryan Nations, vol. ii. p. 221\net seq.) says, 'the Maruts or storm winds who attend on Indra\n... became the fearful Ogres in the traditions of Northern Europe\n... they are the children of Rudra, worshipped as the destroyer and\nreproducer and ... like Hermes, as the robber, the cheat, the deceiver,\nthe master thief.'\n\n[218] Etruscan Researches, p. 376 and note.\n\n[219] St\u00f6ber, Sagen des Elsasses, p. 30.\n\n[220] Cities of Etruria, vol. ii. p. 65-8.\n\n[221] Selvan, at all events, is a word which, Mr. Isaac Taylor\nobserves, is of frequent occurrence in Etruscan inscriptions\n(Et. Res. pp. 394-5), and its signification has not yet been fixed. And\nmay not Gannes have some relation with Kan or Khan (p. 322)?\n\n[222] It is very disappointing that he has translated the great bulk\nof his vast collection of fiabe ('fiaba' in North Italian answers\nto the 'favola' of Rome) so utterly into German that, though we find\nall our old friends among them, all the distinctive expressions are\ntranslated away, and they are rendered valueless for all but mere\nchildish amusement. Thus it is interesting to find in W\u00e4lsch-Tirol\na diabolical counterpart of the Roman story of 'Pret' Olivo,' but it\nwould have rendered it infinitely more interesting had the collector\ntold us what was the word which he translates by 'Teufel,' for it is\nthe rarest thing in the world for an Italian to bring the personified\n'Diavolo' or 'Demonio' into any light story. In the same way it is\ninteresting to find all the other tales with which we are familiar\nturn up here, but the real use of printing them at length would have\nbeen to point out their characteristics. What was the Italian used\nfor the words rendered in the German by 'Witch?' Was it 'Gannes' or\n'strega?' or for 'Giant' and 'Wild man:' was it 'l'om salvadegh' or\n'salvan' or 'orco?' I cannot think it was 'gigante.' But all is left\nto conjecture. Among the few bits of Italian he does give are two\nor three 'tags' to stories, among them the one I met so continually\nin Rome 'Larga la foglia'--(it was still 'foglia' and not 'voglia')\nword for word.\n\n[223] Dr. Steub, in his Herbsttagen in Tirol, shows that the Beatrick\nmay be identified with Dietrich von Bern.\n\n[224] Though nothing would seem simpler than to suppose the word\nderived from the Euganean inhabitants who left their name to Val\nSugana.\n\n[225] It is curious to observe the story pass through all the stages\nof the supernatural agency traditional in the locality; first the good\ngenius of the Etruscans merging next into the Germanic woodsprite,\nthen assuming the vulgar characteristics of later imaginings about\nwitchcraft, and then the Christian teaching 'making use of it,'\nas Professor de Gubernatis says, 'for its own moral end.'\n\n[226] A collection of the 'Costumi' of Tuscany I have, without a\ntitle-page, but I think published about 1835, laments the growing\ndisuse in Lunigiana (i.e. the country round the Gulf of Spezia,\nso called from Luna, an Etruscan city, but 'not one of the twelve,'\nand including Carrara, Lucca, and Pisa) of the practice of recounting\npopular traditions at the Focarelli there. These seem to be autumn\nevening gatherings round a fire, but in the open air, often on a\nthreshing-floor; while the able-bodied population is engaged in the\npreparation of flax, and some are spinning, the boys and girls dance,\nwrestle, and play games, and the old crones gossip; but now, says the\nwriter, they begin to occupy themselves only with scandalous and idle\nreports, instead of old-world lore.\n\n[227] My readers will perhaps not recognize at first sight that this\nis a corruption of Frau Bertha, the Perchtl whom we met in North\nTirol. In the Italian dialects of the Trentino she is also called la\nbrava Berta and la donna Berta.\n\n[228] 'Your servant! Mistress Bertha of the long nose.' Such was\nsupposed to be the correct form of addressing the sprite.\n\n[229] Many of these concern the earthly wanderings of Christ and his\napostles. I have given one of the most sprightly and characteristic of\nSchneller's, too long to be inserted here, in The Month for September,\n1870, entitled 'The Lettuce-leaf Barque.'\n\n[230] Gathered for the above-named collection by Herr Zacchea of the\nFassathal, in the Val di Non, Lederthal, and Val Arsa.\n\n[231] I have mentioned the only other wolf-stories that I have met with\nin the chapter on Excursions round Meran; and at p. 31 of this volume.\n\n[232] Cox's Aryan Mythology, vol. i. p. 405.\n\n[233] I have thought this one of the best specimen tales, as the two\nstories of the Three Wishes and the Three Faithful Beasts are leading\nones in every popular mythology. I have named a good many variants in\nconnexion with their counterparts in the Folklore of Rome, and a more\nextensive survey of them, together with a most interesting analysis\nof their probable origin, will be found in Cox's Mythology of Aryan\nNations, vol. i. pp. 144 and 375. I had thought that these, being\nstrung together in the text version, was owing to a freak of memory\nof some narrator who, having forgotten the original conclusion of the\nformer story, takes the latter one into it; but, curiously enough, in\nthe note to the last-named page of Mr. Cox's work, he happens actually\nto establish an intrinsic identity of origin in the two stories. The\nThree Wishes story has also a strangely localized home in the Oetzthal,\nwhich, though properly belonging to the division of North Tirol, I\nprefer to cite here, for the sake of its analogies. Its particular home\nis in the so-called Thal Vent, on the frozen borders of the Gletscher\ndescribed by Weber, as appalling to a degree in its loneliness, and in\nthe roaring of its torrents, and the stern rugged inaccessibility of\nits peaks. Here, he says, three Selige Fr\u00e4ulein (Weber, like Schneller,\ntranslates everything inexorably into German; this may have been\nan Enguana) have their abode in a sumptuous subterranean palace,\nwhich no mortal might reach. They are also called die drei Feyen,\nhe says, forming a further identification with the normal legend,\nbut he does not account for the penetration of the French word into\nthis unfrequented locality. They were kind and ancillary to the poor\nmountain folk, but the dire enemies of the huntsman, for he hunted as\ngame the creatures who were their domestic animals (here we have the\nnucleus of a heap of various tales and legends of the pet creatures\nof fairies and hermits becoming the intermediaries of supernatural\ncommunication). The Thal Vent legend proceeds that a young shepherd\nonce won the regard of the drei Feyen; they fulfilled all his wishes,\nand gave him constant access to their palace under the sole condition\nthat he should never reveal its locality to any huntsman. After\nsome years the youth one day incautiously let out the secret to\nhis father, and from thenceforth the drei Feyen were inexorable in\nexcluding him from their society. He pleaded and pleaded all in vain,\nand ultimately made himself a huntsman in desperation. But the first\ntime he took aim at one of their chamois, the most beautiful of the\nthree fairies appeared to him in so brilliant a light of glory, that\nhe lost all consciousness of his actual situation and fell headlong\ndown the precipice.\n\n[234] They are called 'Lustige Geschichte,' 'Storielle da rider.' The\nGermans have a saying that 'in jeder Sage haftet eine Sache;' the\n'Sache' is perhaps more hidden in these than in others. I have pointed\nout counterparts of the following at Rome and elsewhere in Folklore\nof Rome.\n\n[235] Capitello, in W\u00e4lsch-Tirol, is the same as Bildst\u00f6cklein in\nthe German provinces--a sacred image in a little shrine.\n\n[236] Bears exist to the present day in Tirol. Seven were killed last\nyear. A prize of from five-and-twenty to fifty florins is given for\nkilling one by various communes.\n\n[237] A distinct remnant of Etruscan custom. It is singular, too,\nthat Mr. I. Taylor finds 'faba' to have been taken by the Romans\nfrom the Etruscans for a bean, but though the custom of connecting\nbeans with the celebration of the departed is common all over Italy,\nI do not think the Etruscans provided their dead with beans except\nalong with all other kinds of food (supra p. 130-1 note).\n\n[238] The little book of Costumi spoken of above, mentions the 'Zocco\ndel Natale' as in use also in Lunigiana; it is generally of olive-tree,\nand household auguries are drawn from the crackling of leaves and\nunripe berries. It cites a letter of a certain Giovanni da Molta,\ndated 1388, showing that the custom has not undergone much change in\nfive hundred years.\n\n[239] Two travellers, two prosperous ones, and a cardinal?--Answer. Sun\nand moon; earth and heaven; and the ocean.\n\n[240] There is a meadow overblown with carnations, yet if the Pope\ncame with all his court, not one sole carnation would he be able to\ncarry off?--Answer. The heaven beaming with stars.\n\n[241] Plate upon plate; a man fully armed; a lady well dressed; a\nstud well appointed?--Answer. Heaven and earth; the sun; the moon;\nthe stars.\n\n[242] There is a palace with twelve rooms; each room has thirty beams,\nand two are ever running after each other through them without ever\ncatching each other?--Answer. The palace is the year, the rooms the\nmonths, the beams the days, and day and night are always following\neach other without overlapping.\n\n[243] The simplicity of the people of this valley is celebrated in many\n'Men of Gotham' stories.\n\n[244] Dennis, Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, vol. 1, pp. xxxiv-v,\nmentions the Etruscan remains that had been found at Mattrey (of\nwhich he gives a cut) and other places in Tirol up to his time.\n\n[245] It is noteworthy that so prominent an enquirer into Etruscan\nantiquities should bear a patronymic so connected with Etruria as\nTarquini.\n\n[246] In Abb\u00e9 Dubois' introduction to his translation of the Pantcha\nTantra, is a story called 'La fille d'un roi chang\u00e9 en gar\u00e7on,' in\nwhich mention is made of a Brahman hermit who fixed his residence in\na hollow tree.","title":"The Valleys of Tirol: Their traditions and customs and how to visit them","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":122914}