Tyrol and its People Part 12

On the way one pa.s.ses the quaint village of Absam, at which Jakob Stainer, known as the "German father of the violin," was born in 1621.

As a maker of these instruments he stands high, though it is unknown where or how he acquired his knowledge of the craft. It seems possible, however, as Absam is but a short distance from Innsbruck, where at the period at which Stainer lived musicians--Italians and others--were warmly welcomed to the Court of the Archduke Ferdinand Karl, he may have made the acquaintance of some of these, or even of a maker of distinction. Be it as it may, ere Stainer reached his majority he had embarked upon the trade of a violin maker, and was often to be seen in the streets of Hall and in the market-place selling his productions at a price which we are told did not often exceed six florins.

His original model was probably an Amati, but he departed considerably from it as he himself acquired skill and knowledge. Stories are still told of the great care he took in selecting the wood from which his instruments were to be fashioned, and how he would sometimes spend days wandering in the backwoods around Hall and Absam in search of a good tree, which he would tap with a hammer and note its "tone" ere felling. Unfortunately, as has been the case with many another genius, he seems to have died in poverty in or about 1683. At one time he was violin maker to the Imperial Court, but this appointment, which ultimately he lost through inability to pay his way, and owing to consequent financial embarra.s.sment, was not sufficiently lucrative to ensure him comfort in his declining years, let alone prosperity.

His instruments, of which there are still a number in existence, are generally distinguished by having their tops more highly curved than those of the chief Italian makers, whilst they possess a more flute-like note, which is often more "singing" and sympathetic than that of the latter. But none of his make probably equalled, or at all events excelled, the works of the Italian masters for brilliance and sustained tone, although by some connoisseurs this opinion has been disputed. It is said that one of Mozart's favourite instruments was the work of Jakob Stainer.

At the present time the chief industry of the Mittenwald, which is just over the Bavarian border, is the production of violins and guitars, which are exported in considerable numbers to both England and the United States as well as to other European countries. This flourishing industry owes its origin to a pupil of Stainer's, named Klotz, who after his master's death enjoyed a considerable reputation as a maker of violins of good quality.

Many of the houses of Absam are gaily painted, and in the numerous niches, which are often vine-wreathed, one finds the images of saints, and on the bargeboards roughly carved dragons. The villagers tell a curious story to account for the presence of these dragons. It tells how centuries ago there was in the village a marvellous hen that never laid an egg until seven years old, and when this was hatched instead of the antic.i.p.ated chicken there crawled out a dragon, which remarkable event the villagers have commemorated ever since by carving dragons on the eaves of their houses. But it has been pointed out by several writers upon legends and folk-lore that the dragon was an animal sacred to the G.o.d Wodin, representations of which were frequently placed on houses, over the town gates, and on belfries as a kind of talisman against evil influences and spirits; and similar statements are to be found in several well-known works dealing with mythology.

[Sidenote: A WONDERFUL WINDOW]

In connection with this little Tyrol village are several other stories and legendary tales of a highly romantic and interesting character.

s.p.a.ce, however, can only be found for one other. The story of the event or circ.u.mstance which caused Absam to become a popular pilgrimage place at the end of the eighteenth century runs as follows.

About the middle of January, in the year 1797, the daughter of one of the villagers was one evening looking out of a window in her father's house to watch for his return from work across the fields, when suddenly the light from the fire which played upon the window-pane disclosed a figure of the Virgin Mary quite distinctly. The girl was so astonished that she fell upon her knees before the miraculous picture. The story was not long in spreading throughout the village, and the neighbours all came running to see the "miracle." Then the news of the marvellous image spread through the district round about, and at last created so great a stir that the Dean of Innsbruck himself heard of it, and resolved to investigate the story. After he had visited the place a committee of inquiry was formed, amongst the members of which were two learned professors of chemistry and the well-known artist, Joseph Schopf.

After considerable investigation and the examination of witnesses the committee declared that the gla.s.s had originally formed part of a "picture" window, and that the image had been undoubtedly painted upon it. The colours had, however, faded as the years went by (as sometimes, indeed, happens), and it was the peculiar character of the atmosphere of Absam which had restored them to the extent that the image of the Holy Virgin had become once more visible.

It is not to be much wondered at, however, that the simple-minded villagers failed to appreciate the arguments of the commissioners and refused to accept the explanation. To them it remained a miraculous image still, and pilgrims came in crowds to see it. As history tells us, it was a period of "Sturm und Drang" in Tyrol. A plague raged which afflicted both men and cattle; and the French invaders had penetrated right into the heart of the country, had occupied Innsbruck, and had brought fire and sword to the hearths of the people. The superst.i.tious peasantry, with their natural leaning towards belief in the miraculous, and faith in the benefits to be derived from the supernatural, accepted the image which had so strangely appeared on the window-pane as a token of Divine favour, and insisted on its removal and installation upon one of the altars in the church. This was promptly done, and the "Gnadenmutter von Absam," or "Miraculous Madonna of Absam," became an object of veneration by all who were distressed. This feeling was doubtless immensely increased by the circ.u.mstance that soon after the discovery of the picture and its removal to the church the pestilence died down, and the French were compelled to withdraw their forces. Both of which events were attributed to the virtue of the painting of the Virgin on the window-pane which had been discovered in so strange a manner.

The salt mines a little distance beyond Absam, with their crystalline grottoes and the subterranean salt lake, provide an interesting and unique experience for the enterprising traveller who comes to the Salzberg. There is not much difficulty in obtaining admission to the mines, a small fee being charged each visitor for guides, torches, and the rowers of the boat on the lake. The circ.u.mstance that the mines were known and worked in the eighth century is not the least interesting fact connected with them; but it appears probable that the early workers confined their attention chiefly if not entirely to the extracting of the salt from a spring that issued from the mountain, by means of evaporating pans.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HALL VALLEY, WINTER]

[Sidenote: DISCOVERY OF SALT MINES]

One Nikolas von Rohrbach, who is known by the sobriquet of "the pious knight," appears to have been the first discoverer of the salt mines. He noticed on his frequent hunting expeditions that the cattle and horses were very fond of licking certain rocks in the valley, and applied tests which showed that the rocks were strongly saline in character. Following up this clue, he discovered the Salzberg itself with its practically inexhaustible supply. Ever since Rohrbach's time the mountain has been worked for its salt, and until recent years, when blasting came into common use, much in the same way as in mediaeval times, viz. by hewing huge caverns in the rock, which are then filled with water and sealed up. After a considerable period has elapsed this water is run off into conduits leading down to Hall, where it is evaporated in pans. How heavily charged with salt the brine is may be judged from the fact that as a general rule it yields no less than one-third of its weight in solid salt.

The caverns one is able to enter, when lighted up by the flickering torches, present a truly wonderful and beautiful sight.

Those who visit Hall are indeed unfortunate whose time does not permit them to put up for a day or two at either of the chief Inns (the "Bar"

or "Stern"), so that the beautiful Gnadenwald, which lies to the north-east of the town on the Bettelwulf, may be visited. That lovely Alpine lake, the Achen See, in which the towering snow-capped mountains gla.s.s themselves, can be easily reached by the little railway which runs up to it through the steeply climbing Zillerthal.

The highest and largest of Tyrolese lakes, the Achen See, lies at an alt.i.tude of 3000 feet, with its deep-blue, crystal-clear waters stretching northwards for a distance of nearly six miles towards Bavaria. It is surrounded by the most exquisite mountain scenery, craggy precipices and dark-green forests, and has many features of interest in addition to providing excellent fishing, boating, and numerous pleasant walks and excursions.

In the Gnadenwald, which was a grant of forest land made by Tyrolese rulers to their household servants in olden times, there are several villages of great picturesqueness. The road from Hall is a truly delightful one through pine forests, sweet with aromatic perfume in the warm air of summer, and upland fields, which seem to almost hang on the sides of the grey, craggy peaks of the Bavarian Alps. And if one but turns and gazes back occasionally there are charming vistas to be had of the Inn Valley far below, and the great chain of the southern mountain range on the further side.

The two picturesquely situated villages of St. Michael and St. Martin are to be ranked amongst the chief places of interest in the Gnadenwald. As one approaches the former its white church and tower with a red-roofed cupola with gilded finial standing out clearly defined against a background of dark green at once arrests attention.

Over the door is a fresco depicting the incident in the life of Saint Martin where he bestowed his coat upon a beggar. The visitor whose time permits or inclination leads him to enter the church will be amply repaid by the beauty of the frescoes, more especially those adorning the pulpit, which were painted by one of the priests attached to the Augustinian monastery formerly connected with the church, but afterwards suppressed by Joseph II. towards the end of the eighteenth century.

At a little distance from the church stands the old home of Joseph Speckbacher, where once, when pursued by his enemies, he took refuge in a pit only deep enough for him to sit upright, whilst the Bavarian soldiers in search of him were actually quartered in the house. He was only able to leave his place of concealment under the floor when the soldiers were absent drilling in the market-place. After a time he was able to come out and hide in a more commodious cow-shed, and finally to flee (after many narrow escapes) over the border into Austria, where he was well received and safe from capture.

The village of St. Michael is also picturesque and well worth seeing.

Just beyond it is the famous Gungl Inn, a favourite resort with excursionists from Innsbruck, Kufstein, Hall and other places, as well as with the peasants of the Gnadenwald. Here, on Sundays especially, one meets with some of the most interesting and picturesque types, gay costumes and rustic scenes of gaiety and amus.e.m.e.nts which give one a far better idea of the Tyrolese peasants as they are than days spent in towns, and weeks spent reading books.

[Sidenote: A PILGRIMAGE CHURCH]

But a short distance further on, by a charming road, one reaches the famous pilgrimage chapel of Maria Larch, built in honour of a mysterious image of the Madonna which was discovered under a larch tree. The church, perhaps on account of its poetic legend and secluded and beautiful situation, has long been a favourite pilgrimage resort with the impressionable and religious peasantry of the upper valleys.

There are many other picturesque places in the neighbourhood of Hall, enticing the wanderer from valley to valley and height to height; but a small volume would be required in which to adequately describe them alone; and almost a lifetime to become thoroughly acquainted with their romantic legends, story and beauty. Some weeks of exploration leaves one with a keen desire for closer acquaintance with not merely the lovely scenery but with the simple-hearted, hospitable people who dwell in the more secluded valleys, with whom the great outer world with its storm and stress has indeed little to do and for whom even has little interest.

"You should return to Innsbruck from Hall in the late afternoon, starting just before sunset," was the advice of an artist friend. "You will then see what you will not easily forget."

The present writer pa.s.ses on the advice.

No one who has waited till day's decline to make the return journey at any period of the year will have reason to regret it, though in the winter months the effects of light and shadow are, of course, far more transient--far too much so--than during the spring, summer, and even early autumn. Then the snow on the towering peaks of the environing mountains glows with at first a golden light, which pa.s.ses through pearly tones to bright rose pink as the sun sinks behind the soaring crags. The last gleams of the sun linger upon the highest peak as though loth to fade through rose to pale purple, and in turn to change to steely blue, and finally to that blue-black which challenges the deeper indigo of the Alpine sky. Through the pine woods as one pa.s.ses along the mountain road the golden light filters and slowly dies, throwing long shadows, and at last making the tree trunks loom enormous and fantastical in the fading light. And then from the tiny churches of the mountain side and valley one hears the Angelus ringing forth with a peaceful sound; or if one be approaching Innsbruck itself, then the mellow tones of the greater bell of Wilten float upward from the valley and come to one borne on the still evening air.

Under such circ.u.mstances of beauty and in the impressive solitude of the forest ways one must be, indeed, unimpressionable if one fails to feel something of the spirit and love of Tyrol, and of restful peace which has enslaved so many hearts throughout the country's history.

FOOTNOTE:

[14] By some authorities it is stated that the Emperor was never made aware of Ferdinand's marriage.--C. H.

CHAPTER VI

SALZBURG, ITS HISTORY AND ROMANCE

[Sidenote: BEAUTIFUL OLD SALZBURG]

Salzburg, though lying some little distance beyond the north-eastern borders of Tyrol, is so historic and delightful a city that many who visit the "Land of the Mountains" make a point of visiting it. They are wise to do so; for of all ancient towns in the Austrian empire few are more picturesque or pleasantly situated, and scarcely any more historically interesting. We have never known any one disappointed in Salzburg who was capable of appreciating beauty and romantic a.s.sociations.

Many who have roved the world over have yielded to the charm of this old-time city, which even with its touch of modernity seems to preserve the quaint and the beautiful of long ago, and the atmosphere of the days when knights and armed men were the chief pa.s.sers through its streets, and history was in the making.

It lies at the foot of the northern Alps, in an open and fertile valley somewhat reminding one of Innsbruck, save for its wonderful rock fortress Hohen-Salzburg situated nearly eighteen hundred feet above sea-level and completely dominating the town. There is the Kapuzingerberg in place of the Innsbruck Weiherberg, and its Rainberg in place of Berg Isel. It is by many considered the most interesting of all the ancient towns amid the German Alps.

Its beauty has been compared in turn by several well-known travellers with that of Venice, Naples, and even Constantinople. But to our thinking the parallel is not as exact as it should be to make it of value. There is no sea at Salzburg, and from that fact alone its approach is of necessity less picturesque. Indeed, the immediate approach from Tyrol by way of Innsbruck is somewhat unimpressive and gives little or no indication of the beauty and charm of the old town, though the line on its way pa.s.ses some pretty scenery and affords some fine peeps of the Bavarian Alps.

Yet Salzburg, through the centre of which flows the silver-hued Salzach, is in a way as beautifully situated and as charming as any of the towns to which it has from time to time been likened. It lies in a delightfully well-watered and fertile plain dotted over with villages, ancient castles, and country seats of the Salzburg n.o.bility, and encircled by wooded hills, which as they open out in a wider sweep to the south become higher and higher until deserving the description of mountains. Here they become a magnificent range of towering limestone peaks, through which are cleft fertile and delightful valleys leading into the neighbouring kingdom of Bavaria. In the valley of the Salzach there is no lack of variety as regards scenery. One has widespread meadows, almost throughout the year starred and gemmed with many coloured and sweet scented flowers, melting away into the woods which clothe the lower slopes of the environing hills, where the sombre hued pines give a darker note of green to the landscape; whilst yet above these in the distance are crags of grey and slate-coloured limestone, and crowning the whole vast snow-fields glistering white at noonday and taking on a tint of delicate rose colour at sundown.

In the town itself rise two considerable hills which serve to confer upon it a distinction of its own. One, the Kapuzingerberg, on the eastern side of the river, rises to the height of 800 feet, and the second, on the western side, to a height of nearly 450 feet above the city. It is between these two that the greater part of the old town lies. The steep sides of the Monchsberg and the Gibraltar-like rock on which the old, grey fortress of Hohen-Salzburg stands are ivy-clad, and in the crevices and fissures wall-flowers, valerian, stone-crop, houseleek, and other flowering and lichen-like plants have taken root, whilst from the greater crevices and ledges wave feathery birches, and the lower slopes are made beautiful and shady by spreading beeches and odorous limes.

After several visits to this delightful city, which has an atmosphere entirely its own, and a charm difficult to describe, one is at a loss to set down in what it exactly differs from other similar towns. Part of the attraction it possesses is doubtless owing to its situation amid a stretch of lovely valley, and its romantic and historic past.

But there yet remains that elusive quality which may be described as "the personality of the town," in addition to its geographical and historical claims upon one's interest and imagination.

Salzburg is not, however, merely the name of a town, but also of a province or "department" of Austria, to which empire it is the last added territory.[15] Lying between Tyrol (of which by many it is erroneously supposed to form a part) and the Salzkammergut or the lake region of Upper Austria, which commences in the near neighbourhood of the city, it was an independent episcopal princ.i.p.ality until after the fall of Napoleon, not having been incorporated with the Austro-Hungarian Empire until the year 1816.

[Sidenote: THE SALZACH VALLEY]

The province consists chiefly of the mountainous district of the Salzach and its numerous tributaries, which wend their way from their sources amid the glaciers and snow-fields of the great peaks of the Hohen Tauern and lesser ranges to the plain where the Salzach itself ultimately flows into the Inn.

It is the great Hohen Tauern range with its gigantic snow-crowned peaks of the Gross Glockner, 12,460 feet; Wiesbachhorn, 11,710 feet; and Gross Venediger, 12,010 feet; Hohe Furlegg, 10,750 feet; Habachkopf, 9945 feet; and many other almost equally stupendous heights, which forms the southern boundary of the ancient Princ.i.p.ality. The whole range is one of impressive grandeur, and possesses a picturesque beauty upon its lower slopes unrivalled by any other Alpine district. The foot of the Hohen Tauern is almost invariably clad with pine forests, which melt away into the higher slopes where blooms the bright pink "alpen rosen," whilst yet higher, and just below the line of perpetual snow, on rocky ledges and on slopes of coa.r.s.e gra.s.s appear the silver-white, star-like flowers of the edelweiss. Above this zone of fresh green patches amid the grey and weather-stained rocks one pa.s.ses into that exhilarating region of eternal snow and ice where dwells also eternal silence unbroken by the sound of birds, the hum of insects, or murmur of other living things.

Not only is the Hohen Tauern the region of Alpine giants, vast glaciers, and untrodden snow-fields, but as a natural consequence of these things it is that of many rushing torrents, stupendous waterfalls, and tinkling streamlets, all of which contribute to make the province it borders one of the best-watered in the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Upwards of half a score of large streams flow into the Salzach; whilst of fertile valleys there are so many that to number them is difficult. Most are beautiful in the extreme; many are almost unknown to the ordinary tourist, who usually sticks to the well-worn paths and more frequented highways. In the famous Krimml Falls the Province of Salzburg possesses by common consent the finest waterfalls in the German Alps. They issue from the vast Krimml Glacier and descend over the edge of a pine-clad precipice in a cloud of drifting spray into the valley beneath, a distance of nearly 1500 feet, in three stupendous leaps, the highest fall in two leaps from a height of more than 450 feet.

Although, as we have before said, almost every valley of the Hohen Tauern range is notably beautiful, none excel in interest either pictorially or geologically the longest and widest, the Gastein Valley, with the fine falls some 500 feet in height near Bockstein, where the Gasteiner Ache, after pa.s.sing through narrow gorges, plunges down into the valley, and thence flows through the broad, flat plain of Hof-Gastein to join the Salzach, pa.s.sing on its way delightful Bad-Gastein, with its old town of interesting and picturesque wooden houses nestling on the eastern slopes of the valley, and the newer, with its hotels, churches, villas and other handsome buildings, peeping out from amid the pine-clad slopes or lying in the valley itself. It is a delightful though nowadays fashionable health resort, at which many tastes, both gay and quiet, are consulted.

From Lend at the foot of the Gastein Thal to pretty little St. Johann, where the Salzach flows northward, the river has pa.s.sed without opposition quietly onward. But at St. Johann are some towering and remarkable limestone peaks, including those of the Tennen and Hagen Ranges, some of them attaining an alt.i.tude of 8000 feet; with the desolate-looking Steinerne Meer, 8800 feet on the western flank, and the Dachstein more than a thousand feet higher on the eastern. The river flows onward to a point where the two ranges we have mentioned coalesce. Here the great ravine known as the Lueg Pa.s.s, six miles in length and possessing fine scenery, forms a very fitting entrance to the beautiful valley of Golling, which gradually opens out from Hallein onwards till Salzburg itself is reached.