Tyrol and its People Part 26

And the former, no doubt, relieved in mind and not disposed to stand upon ceremony or resent so unconventional a greeting, replied, "I am on the look out."

To which the newcomer replied, "And so am I. Shall we venture down together?"

And upon the Emperor agreeing to make the attempt--after, according to various accounts, having spent from twenty-four to seventy-two hours in his perilous position--they set out to descend the remainder of the cliff face, and ultimately succeeded in doing so in safety. The daring hunter (who various accounts say was a brigand, and others an outlaw), to whom a secret path was known, was naturally well rewarded by the grateful monarch, and ultimately was enn.o.bled with the t.i.tle of Hollaner von Hohenfelsen; the last word, "High Rock," commemorating the incident. As is perhaps natural, some accounts place a supernatural aspect upon the Emperor's deliverance, and state that it was an angel which guided him to safety, sent by Heaven in answer to the prayers of the priests and people and the Emperor's trust in Providence.

Amongst the treasures of Schloss Ambras is the monstrance in which the Host was carried by the priests of Zirl when they celebrated Ma.s.s for the comfort of the Emperor on Martinswand and offered up prayers for his deliverance.

Maximilian, finding afterwards that many of the people of Zirl and the district were determined to make the perilous descent to the little cave which had afforded him shelter and foothold, employed some of the Schwaz miners to cut a path down to it and to enlarge the cavity, which became known as the Max-Hohle. In the cave was placed a crucifix, with figures of the Virgin and St. John on either side, of sufficiently large size to be visible from the valley below. The cavern can be reached by this path (or one made since) in about an hour and a half; but the climb is distinctly one which should be attempted only by the clear-headed and sure-footed. A very excellent view of the "hole" used to be obtainable from the ruins of the little hunting-box and chapel to St. Martin which Maximilian afterwards erected upon the green knoll opposite to it, known as the Martins-buhel, but now private property.

Those who stop at Zirl and visit the Martinswand should not fail to proceed a few miles further northward to the pretty little village of Seefeld. On the way along the six miles of winding and picturesque road one pa.s.ses Fragenstein, once a strong fortress and afterwards converted by "Kaiser Max" into one of his numerous hunting seats, which lie scattered about the Inn Thal and the district round about.

There is quite a romantic story of buried treasure in connection with ruined Fragenstein, in which a huntsman clad in green is mixed up, who appears periodically and invites the peasants by his gestures to come and a.s.sist him in digging up the treasure. Several attempts have been made to discover the latter in past times, but all have been frustrated when success appeared to be certain. On one occasion the peasants of the valley say those who were digging, and had worked hard for many days turning up the soil in every direction, actually had the metal chest, in which the treasure is reputed to lie buried, in sight, when a terrific storm burst over the valley, and when it had subsided all traces of their work had been washed away or otherwise obliterated, and the clue was never again discovered. The road to Seefeld, though tempting for pedestrians, is steep, especially up to Leiten and Reit; but those who walk may take some short cuts on the curves, and will be well repaid by the pretty scenery and fresh, invigorating air.

Neither at Leiten nor Reit is there much to detain the traveller--a few picturesque houses; nothing more. And so on to Seefeld. In connection with the village and its Heilige Blutskapelle there is one of those many legendary stories, of which there are so great a number known to Tyrolese Folk-lore.

Many centuries ago there appears to have lived at Seefeld a man named Oswald Milser, who was rich and powerful and generous both to the Church and to his poorer neighbours. His one besetting sin, however, was pride, and so one day when he went to take the Easter Eucharist he insisted that to distinguish him from the other communicants and mark his importance the priest should give him one of the larger wafers reserved for the use of the priests alone. Afraid to offend Milser, who had been a generous supporter of the Church and a giver of large alms, the priest complied with his request. No sooner, however, was the host placed upon his tongue than the weight of it bore Milser to the earth. And although in his terror and predicament he clung to the altar, and then to the altar steps as he sunk further, the latter gave way, and he continued to sink lower and lower, till in his terror he called upon the priest to take the host back from him. This the priest did, and when Oswald Milser had recovered from his fright he recognized that the circ.u.mstance was a lesson to his pride, and ultimately he gave his goods to the poor and the Church, and entered a monastery to lead a life of penance and contemplation.

[Sidenote: A MIRACULOUS ROSEBUSH]

When his wife was told the miracle, she refused to credit it, saying that sooner than do so she would believe that a dead rose-tree could blossom. The story goes on to tell how immediately "a rose-tree which was near by and had been dead for a long time, put forth the most beautiful blooms, and so confounded the wicked woman that she went out of her mind, rushed from her house, and was never more seen in the flesh." But her spirit was often heard at night, wailing and moaning on the mountain-side.

It was to contain this miraculous host which had confounded Oswald Milser's pride that the Archduke Ferdinand, in 1575, built a special little chapel on the left side of the fine fourteenth-century Gothic church of Seefeld. This is even nowadays an object of veneration, to which a considerable number of pilgrims come. The altar-piece is a fine one, and was well restored about five-and-thirty years ago. The statues which adorn it are those of the favourite legendary heroes of Tyrol, St. Oswald and St. Sigismund, whilst the subjects of the bas-reliefs are the incidents of Biblical history, known as "The Mysteries of the Rosary." Amongst the "treasures" of the church are a remarkably fine and interesting crystal reliquary and crown, given by the Archd.u.c.h.ess Eleonora.

From Seefeld there are many interesting excursions to be made into the picturesque Mittenwald district, which lies to the north, upon the Bavarian frontier.

Scharnitz lies at the point where the Hinderan and Karwendel valleys unite. It has memories of many a struggle against the Bavarian invaders, and more particularly of the defence of the fortress Porta Claudia, built during the Thirty Years' War by Claudia de Medici, by an Englishman named Swinburne, an ancestor of the late Algernon Charles Swinburne the poet. He was an officer in the Austrian service, and had a force of only 600 against Marshal Ney, with nearly 20,000, and made so gallant and stubborn a defence that when the garrison at length surrendered to such vastly superior numbers they made their own terms and were allowed to march out as prisoners of war whilst retaining their side-arms. They were sent as prisoners to Aix-la-Chapelle, but the "colours" were saved by one of the garrison, a Tyrolese, who made his escape with them wound round his body. He was sought for amid the mountains for many weeks, but was not recaptured, and lived to, later on, reach Vienna and hand the precious colours to his gallant chief, who had so well defended the fortress.

We reached Telfs from Seefeld by road. The village, which boasts a large cotton factory, is prettily situated and pleasant, but there is nothing in the place itself to detain the traveller. The same remark applies to Imst, once given over to the breeding of canaries, which were so celebrated for their singing qualities that they were exported to all parts of Europe. The old Inn, however, is worth inspection should a stop be made at the little town, and there are many excursions of a charming character to be made in the district round about.

[Sidenote: LANDECK]

Landeck is a prettily situated and important little town in a wide bend of the Inn Thal, having a fine prospect of environing mountain summits occupying both sides of the river and dominated by Castle Landeck, whose grim, square, and battlemented tower forms a striking feature of the landscape. Another prominent building, which at once strikes one on approaching the place either by road or rail, is the fine fifteenth-century parish church standing on the slope of the hill, which is crowned by the castle.

The church was founded by two natives of the place, only the Christian names of whom appear to have survived, who, having lost their two children in the forest near by, vowed that if the latter were found they would show their grat.i.tude by erecting a church to the Holy Virgin. Hardly had the vow been uttered, the legend states, when the distracted parents saw a bear and a wolf advancing towards them, each bearing a child unharmed in its mouth!

The spire of the church, which has a curious double bulb surmounting it, is of considerably later date than the building itself, which, although thoroughly restored some forty years ago, was done very carefully and sympathetically, and preserves many of its most interesting architectural features, including some very early sculpture. In the churchyard, from which such a delightful prospect of the valley of the Inn is obtained, there are two monuments, which should not be missed by any one interested in antiquities and history.

One is to Oswald von Schrofenstein, dating from early in the fifteenth century; the other takes the form of a little Gothic chapel, dating from 1870, which was erected to the memory of the Landeckers who fell whilst a.s.sisting to defend the Italian frontier of Tyrol during the Austro-Italian campaign of 1866.

[Sidenote: A TYROLESE VICTORY]

Landeck bore a brave part in the War of the Spanish Succession in 1703, when Maximilian, Elector of Bavaria, joined forces with the French and Italians against Austria, and invaded Tyrol. The Tyrolese, always ready to speedily a.s.semble in defence of their beloved country, soon made the main road over the Brenner impossible of pa.s.sage by the enemy, and Maximilian thought to elude the sharpshooters who swarmed upon the hillsides commanding that way, by sending his forces round by the Finstermunz and Ober-Innthal. They reached the neighbourhood of Landeck without much opposition; but the Tyrolese had gathered to dispute their further advance on the first favourable opportunity.

The Judge of the district, one Martin Sterzinger, had speedily summoned all the available Landsturm forces of the neighbourhood, and worked out a plan of campaign. The latter were to permit the enemy to advance until they were well into the gorge, and then attack them so fiercely and from so commanding a position as to have some hope--in spite of their greater numbers--of severely and finally defeating them. They were in consequence allowed to advance into the narrow gorge, the road through which was spanned by the Pontlatzerbrucke. But before they entered the defile the bridge had been destroyed by the Tyrolese. The Bavarians, who were compelled to traverse a steep and narrow mountain path, when they came in sight of the destroyed bridge at once realized that they were entrapped. The precipitous sides of the hills above them were practically unscalable, and there was no way now the bridge was destroyed by which they could cross the roaring, rus.h.i.+ng Inn to safety on the other side. In the panic which ensued numbers fell or were pushed from the road into the river, to be swept swiftly away.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LANDECK AND ITS ANCIENT FORTRESS]

Then suddenly the heights above literally swarmed with Tyrolese, who had remained hidden until the right moment to attack, who poured into the huddled and panic-stricken ma.s.s of the enemy a hail of bullets, supplemented by stones and pieces of rock hurled down by those who were not possessed of guns. Only a mere handful of the force was able to turn back and escape along the path by which they had come, and these were speedily overtaken by the active mountaineers and made prisoners. Not one, we are told, made good his escape to bear news of the disaster to headquarters, and thus the French and Bavarian commanders were for some considerable time in doubt as to what had occurred. In the end they learned how their immensely superior force had been literally cut to pieces and wiped out, and perhaps also to hold the "rough jackets" of Landeck and the Inn Thal in greater respect than they had done before. The victory of July 1st, as it is known amongst the many other successes of the peasants' campaign against the invaders of their land, is celebrated every year by a procession and _fete_.

Besides being a most interesting little town, Landeck is yearly growing more popular with holiday makers and rest seekers as a fine centre from which to make some of the most delightful excursions and short tours in the whole of the Inn Thal. The chief of these are either in the immediate neighbourhood into the Lotzer Thal, and Medriol Thal, or along and by way of the splendid Finstermunz high road to Sulden, Trafoi, and other smaller places. There is also, of course, the famous Stilfserjoch, the highest carriage-road in Europe, and the pretty villages and valleys of the Kaunser Thal to invite a long stay amid surroundings which are scarcely excelled in any other district of North Tyrol.

But not merely days and weeks, but even months could be pleasantly spent with Landeck as a base from which to explore the numberless beautiful and almost unknown smaller valleys and gorges which run out of the Inn Valley north and south, and in the former case lead one to that wonderland of the Bavarian highlands, with its many ancient and Royal castles, lovely little lakes, and fertile, flower-decked pastures.

Soon after leaving Landeck, either by rail or road, one crosses the boundary which separates the Ober-Innthal from the Vorarlberg. If by the latter, as one approaches the summit of the Arlberg, which is 5910 feet above sea-level, one catches sight of an immense crucifix overshadowing the road, near which are the two posts marking the boundary line. The old road was opened for traffic nearly a century and a quarter ago, but a considerable portion of that now generally used, which is more sheltered and protected, was not made until 1825.

By the magnificent Arlberg Pa.s.s route one can reach Bregenz, and to make the journey in this way by carriage or afoot is most delightful, though the railway, after the long tunnel is pa.s.sed, is very interesting and picturesque.

However, comparatively few tourists and travellers nowadays devote the time necessary to traverse the Arlberg to Bregenz by road, and so Bludenz must be included in the itinerary we are describing. The little town, which has a bustling and prosperous air, though it is decidedly hot in summer, still possesses a considerable number of its older buildings and houses. The ancient chateau or castle of Gayenhofen is now used for Government purposes; it forms a picturesque landmark in the town.

Bludenz will always have a place in the romantic history of Tyrol from the fact that it was here that the well-beloved "Frederick with the Empty Purse" came while an outlaw and in fear for his life. He made himself known to the innkeeper where he sought refuge, who, though embarra.s.sed, was delighted to shelter the popular hero. His view was shared by the rest of the inhabitants of the town, who when summoned by the Emperor Sigismund to deliver up their prince declined to do so, saying, "they had sworn fealty to Duke Frederick and the house of Austria, and they would not betray him."

Frederick, though doubtless touched by the loyalty of the Bludenz folk, knew that if he remained amongst them the result would probably be the dispatch of a force by the Emperor to capture him, and the possible destruction of the town by way of reprisal. So he stole quietly away, and Bludenz was saved.

The old town is well worth a few hours' stay, and there are many picturesque "bits" to be discovered for sketch book and camera in the older houses and side alleys, even if time will not permit of a sufficiently long sojourn to allow one to visit the pretty Montfacon Thal, with its legend of a beautiful maiden who lived up in the mountain guarding a hidden treasure, which she is condemned to watch over until some one is bold enough to kiss three times a huge toad which lives hard by, and also guards the wealth that is to reward the bold rescuer of the maiden.

[Sidenote: FELDKIRCH]

Feldkirch is the last important town on the route to Bregenz.

Pleasantly situated near the grim gorges through which the river Ill rushes with ever-increasing rapidity and force to join the Rhine, there is much of interest in the quaint streets, and the arcades which run in front of many of the houses.

The town itself is shut in by the mountains and dominated by the old fortress of Shattenburg, now used as a retreat or home for the poor; and for this reason perhaps is less resorted to than it otherwise might be. There are, however, a large number of most interesting excursions to be made in the neighbourhood, and the fifteenth-century church is a fine one, with a good "Descent from the Cross" by a native artist, Wolfgang Huber, and a remarkable and handsome pulpit, both dating from the early years of the sixteenth century. Costume, too, is occasionally seen in Feldkirch, and on one Sunday, the occasion of a festival, there were quite a number of women wearing the old-time steeple-crowned, brimless beaver hats--in shape somewhat like that of a Russian _Moujick_ or the busby of a Grenadier--wide white collars, embroidered bodices, and handsome brocaded ap.r.o.ns.

The last place in Tyrol when leaving it by the Arlberg route is the most delightful and ancient town of Bregenz, standing upon the north-eastern sh.o.r.e of Lake Constance. It is the capital of the Vorarlberg, and in this delightful corner of Tyrol there is no town of greater charm or historic interest. Above it rises the picturesque Gebhardsberg, from the summit of which there is one of the most celebrated panoramic views in Tyrol, embracing as it does the beautiful lake, the Appenzell Mountains, and the rapidly flowing Rhine.

There are really two towns in Bregenz. The old town, shaped like a quadrilateral, standing on the hill which ages ago was the site of the Roman settlement and castle, with two ancient gates, one of which has been pulled down; and the newer town, with its shady promenades, quay, modern buildings, and air of bustle during the tourist season.

[Sidenote: A LEGEND OF BREGENZ]

Irrespective of its unusually beautiful situation, one finds in Bregenz much to interest and detain. It is a truly ancient place, with much history--some of it of a romantic kind--attached to it. In the Middle Ages, indeed, the overlords of the town and district were so powerful that their house supplied the Emperor Charlemagne with a bride, concerning whom there is a legendary and highly romantic tale.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHURCH INTERIOR, TYROL]

It would appear from this story that Charlemagne was of a more than usually suspicious nature, and by no means one of those complaisant husbands with which the Mediaeval tales have familiarized us. An old lover of Hildegarde, having seen her married to the Emperor with great distress of mind, in his wrath against her for preferring even an Emperor to himself, got ear of Charlemagne, and so succeeded in poisoning the latter's mind against his bride, that he either divorced or repudiated her, and married a Lombardian princess called Desiderata.

Accepting her fate resignedly, Hildegarde eventually found her way to Rome, where she devoted herself to the care of the sick, and especially of the sick pilgrims who came to the "Eternal City." In course of time, so the story goes, her revengeful lover, whose name, Taland, is almost as common a one in Tyrol as Smith in England, having lost his sight, came on a pilgrimage, and whilst in Rome was cared for by Hildegarde, "whose tender and saintly hands," we are told, "not only restored his physical sight, but also his moral perception of right and wrong."

He was so overcome with remorse when he learned to whom, under Providence, he owed his restoration to sight, that he confessed his fault to Hildegarde, and insisted upon accompanying her to Charlemagne, to whom he also confessed, and proved Hildegarde to have been blameless. The Emperor at once restored her to favour and honour.

In another story connected with Bregenz, which was made the subject of a poem by the late Adelaide Ann Proctor, one has preserved an incident connected with the heroic conduct of a Bregenz woman in saving the town from surprise and destruction by the Swiss. There are several versions of the story, which dates from 1408, but probably, as it is of a legendary character, the one given in the ballad is as correct as any other.

Unhappily, the Bregenz folk of to-day appear to know little of this heroine; and on one occasion on which we visited the town, and made a search for the effigy of the Maid and her steed on the gate of the old castle, or walls of the upper town, we were unable to find it. No one seemed to know the story of the "Maid of Bregenz," and an old lady, who had a temporary stall outside the gate for the sale of cakes and other refreshments, became quite irascible upon our persisting in the belief that there must have been a "Maid," and that she (the old lady) ought to know the legend.

"There is no 'Maid of Bregenz,'" she said angrily at last. Adding, after a pause, during which she looked us up and down as though to decide upon our nationality, "But mad English people have asked me hundreds of times about her. I know nothing. There is no more to be said."

And with this she returned to her perusal of the paper she had been reading when we accosted her, and we had to be content.

We made our way down the somewhat rugged and steep road to the lower town a little crestfallen, although the view of the lake in the late afternoon suns.h.i.+ne of a July day was exquisite beyond description, the water deep blue and green in patches, with the incoming and outgoing boats and steamers leaving frothy-white or rippling wakes behind them almost as long as they themselves remained in sight. One determination we came to. It was in future not to inquire too closely into such pretty and poetical stories as that of the "Maid of Bregenz," and not to allow our desire for legendary or antiquarian knowledge to permit us to run the risk of further disillusionment.[28]

We did not find the effigy of "the maid and her milk-white steed," on which she had ridden over the Swiss frontier and swum across the Rhine to warn the inhabitants of her old home of a projected attack by the Swiss amongst whom she had gone to dwell in service. The genial proprietor of the Oesterreichischer Hof, we found, had heard of "the Maid." Alas! not from his fellow-townsfolk (who should have cherished her memory), but, like the old lady in the upper town, from English tourists, who had, doubtless, climbed the steep ascent on a similar errand of inquiry and research to our own.