That, at all events, is the story we have been told, and though the Rosengarten and its miniature valleys are beautiful enough for real roses to have their home there, none grow there now save figurative ones caused by the sunset light.

The Rosengarten is a fine centre for mountain ascents, and the famous Vajolett towers and other rocky pinnacles present unfailing attractions to the adventurous rock climber, even though nowadays there can be very few "virgin" peaks or pinnacles to scale.

From the Rosengarten itself as well as from Bozen one can witness the blooming of the roses, and the really wonderful and entrancing play of colour, light and shadow over the stupendous peaks which forms an unforgettable experience when seen during the late afternoon of a summer day and onwards till twilight comes to gradually throw its blue and mystic mantle over the valleys and the mountain summits.

[Sidenote: KLAUSEN]

North of Bozen, prettily situated by the banks of the Adige, and some one thousand seven hundred feet above sea-level, stands the little, though somewhat important, town of Klausen, with its long, narrow street following the configuration of the gorge in which most of the houses lie, dominated by the great Benedictine monastery of Saben perched upon a steep vine-clad promontory overlooking the town and river, and six hundred feet above it. A castle till the end of the seventeenth century, the convent was attacked by the French in 1809, and from all accounts the nuns were not respected, for upon the walls of one of the towers on the hill is a painted crucifix, which the people of Klausen say was placed there in memory of one of the nuns who, pursued by the soldiery, jumped to her death over the battlements. The first impression of Klausen is that of cleanliness, for the tall houses strike one in the brilliant sunshine of a summer day as very white, though most of them are relieved by patches of vivid green, where window shutters hang upon the walls or keep the sunshine from the windows. Klausen folk are fond of flowers, too, for many hang trailing from balconies; pink and red geraniums, a variety of clematis, and bunches of ruby-coloured valerian, and tufts of yellow and orange nasturtiums. There are generally many monks about the streets, too; sombre-looking figures in rough frieze habits, who look at the stranger with mild curiosity, and then pa.s.s on their silent way up the hillside, or through the one long, narrow street which runs between the mountain side and the rushing river. Klausen women bore a brave part in Hofer's struggle against the French and Bavarians, and dressed in their husbands' and brothers' clothes gave material aid in driving back the French through the pa.s.s in 1797.

There is not much to see in Klausen itself, but as a typical southern Tyrolese village it is interesting. Picturesque it certainly also is, set amid crags and rocks of purple porphyry, whose bases and lower slopes are beautified by the greenery of many vineyards, and half encircled by the rushing Eisack. Near by is the famous Castle Trostburg, romantically beautiful with grey walls and red-tiled roof perched high above the pine forest which clothes the steep sides of the rocky spur upon which it stands, and with a patch of vineyard clinging to the wall of its upper square and solid-looking keep. The climb up to it is a steep one, but the view one obtains into the Grodener Thal and of the surrounding heights well repays one.

[Sidenote: OSWALD v. WOLKENSTEIN]

The castle is one of the comparatively few still remaining in the possession of the family with whose history it has for many centuries been identified. The Counts of Wolkenstein date their occupation from the twelfth century, and one of the most famous of the line was that Oswald born at Castle Trostburg in 1367, or about, whose romantic adventures might form the basis or plot of half a dozen historical novels. As a Minnesinger he set out early in life upon his travels in a gallant and adventurous age; devoted, one must imagine, to the service and adoration of the fair s.e.x, as were supposed to be Minnesingers in general. Like many another adventure-loving lad, he ran away from his ancestral home, light of heart and equally light of purse, to wander through the world singing his way to fame and fortune, or to failure and poverty, as the case might happen.

He appears in the first instance to have attached himself to the suite of one of a party of Tyrolese n.o.bles under Duke Albrecht III., of Austria, who were bent upon a filibustering expedition into Lithuania, a district then lying between Poland and Courland. Afterwards he wandered far and wide over the world, visiting in turn Russia, England, Spain, France, and then sailing for the East, and travelling through Asia Minor and Persia. He seems, from contemporary and other accounts, to have been "everything by turns, and nothing long," except that he probably always kept up his "minnesinging." He certainly was page, soldier, sailor, and sea-cook; and for all one can tell these were but the chief occupation of many he followed during his wandering and adventurous life. At all events he appears to have acted at times as tutor, turning the half score of languages he had picked up to good and practical account. Amongst his more knightly adventures were campaigns against the English in the service of the Earl of Douglas--he was probably present on August 10, 1388, at the famous battle of Otterburn (Chevy Chase)--previously against the Swedes in Denmark in the service of Queen Margaret, who in 1397 united the kingdoms of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden together.

Among his more peaceful victories and doings was the favour which he found in the eyes of the Queen of Aragon, who appears to have not only admired his poetic gifts, but to have loaded him with personal favours, caresses, and presents of jewelry.

For several years after his visit to Spain he wandered about, and then at last (like the prodigal son) set his face towards Tyrol. No one recognized him, and he appears to have fallen under the spell of the daughter of a neighbouring knight, who, however, would not consent to marry him unless he would first obtain his knighthood by becoming a Crusader.

Deeply in love with the fair Sabina and not doubting her sincerity, Von Wolkenstein took ship for Palestine, and in due course attained the coveted distinction by gallant conduct in battle, in consequence of which he attracted the attention and gained the personal friendship of Sigismund of Hungary.

Alas! for his hopes. On returning to Tyrol covered with glory, and a "true knight," he did so only to find the fickle and deceitful Sabina married to another. In addition to this he was only just in time to see his father die. As a younger son he inherited the castles of Castelruth and Hauenstein, Trostburg and its lands descending to his elder brother.

[Sidenote: A KNIGHT'S ADVENTURES]

His roving disposition was not likely to be stayed now that he had lost both his intended wife and his father, so he once more set out on his travels, this time in the retinue of his friend Sigismund, in whose company he visited several countries. For several years he wandered through western Europe and as far south-east as Egypt, where he appears to have been received with much honour. Once more back in Tyrol in 1405, he became involved in the political upheavals which were caused by the drastic measures of reform inst.i.tuted by Duke Frederick of the Empty Purse, against which the Tyrolese n.o.bles fiercely rebelled. The ex-Minnesinger took the part of the latter, and in consequence drew down upon himself Frederick's vengeance. The latter burned his two castles, and compelled Von Wolkenstein to flee for his life to the protection of a relative who was the owner of the castle of Greifenstein, which is situated on an inaccessible pinnacle of rock between Bozen and Meran. Duke Frederick and his forces hotly besieged the castle, but failed to reduce it; and although Oswald was severely wounded and lost the sight of one eye he escaped, and a little later joined an expedition against the Moors in the train of John I., King of Portugal. During the severe fighting which took place, and at the capture of Ceuta in 1415, he appears to have so greatly distinguished himself that, we are told, "his fame was such that the troubadours enshrined his deeds in their songs."

Ultimately, he came to his own in Tyrol owing to an act of the Council of Constance in Baden, which not only condemned John Huss--amongst many ecclesiastical enactments--to be burned, but also ordered that Duke Frederick, now an outlaw, who had burned Oswald von Wolkenstein's castles, should rebuild them, and restore to the knight all the property that he and his followers had seized. It is not easy, however, to comprehend how an outlaw who was fleeing from one place to another in fear of his life was to accomplish these things, nor how property taken by the soldiery years before, and probably long ago converted into cash or other uses, could be given up and restored.

We are told, however, that after visiting France in Sigismund's train Oswald returned to his favourite castle of Hauenstein, the ruins of which nowadays are so lost in the vast pine forest which surrounds them as to be almost undiscoverable.

Then Sabina, his old love, once more comes upon the scene, this time as the claimant of the castle on account, so she alleged, of an unrepaid loan made by her grandfather to the Wolkensteins. She invited her old suitor Oswald to join her in a pilgrimage to some shrine for old acquaintance sake; and when he came to her, unsuspecting and unarmed, she promptly had him seized, thrown into a dungeon, and there kept him a prisoner in chains. He lay in treacherous Sabina's castle until by chance Sigismund, hearing of his parlous state, intervened on his friend's behalf, and Oswald von Wolkenstein was set free. He was, however, so maimed by rheumatism and the fetters which had galled him that he ever afterwards went lame.

Once more he was cast into prison, this time by Duke Frederick's machinations, and lay in a horrible underground and tunnel-like cell in Vellenberg not far from Innsbruck. He had married in 1417 Margaret, a daughter of the house of Schw.a.n.gau, after a long period of betrothal, and to her he was deeply attached. On his second release, after three years' incarceration, he returned to Hauenstein to find his wife dead, and his home fallen into disrepair from neglect.

A few years later we find him, unconquered in spirit though broken in body, at Rome to attend the coronation of his friend Sigismund, who but a year or two later was driven from the throne. In 1435 Oswald once more, as a man of fifty-eight, returned to forest-enshrouded Hauenstein, where he died nine years afterwards, never having again left it.

Of course, the castle is haunted by the spirit of this unhappy and adventurous knight and Minnesinger, and there is still this belief amongst the peasantry of Seis and the neighbourhood round about. And the few who have ever ventured near the ruined pile after sundown aver that those who do are sure to hear the ancient Minnesinger chanting a dirge-like lay, accompanying himself upon his lute. But if this be so Oswald's spirit has wandered far from his body, for his remains repose at Neustift near Brixen.

He was not only one of the most picturesque and romantic figures of the band of Minnesingers who were so numerous during the Middle Ages, but also in a measure an historical figure. By some authorities he is considered to be the last of these strange wandering minstrel adventurers. Probably it would be more correct to speak of him as the last really great Tyrolese "Minnesinger;" but, whichever estimate be right, his place on the roll of fame relating to the deeds and songs of these is a.s.sured by reason of his gallantries, misfortunes, and adventurous and knightly doings.

[Sidenote: ST. ULRICH]

On the way to Klausen one is wise to make a diversion down the narrow but picturesque Grodener Thal to St. Ulrich, which charming village, situated in a basin and almost surrounded by thickly wooded slopes, and beyond them stupendous and rocky peaks with the serrated pinnacles of the Langkofel in the background, is the centre of the Toy industry of Tyrol and an increasingly popular tourist resort. The road is a steeply ascending one, and one comes upon the first glimpse of the village, which stands midway down the valley between Waidbruck and Wolkenstein, quite suddenly. One's first impression is of a typical Tyrolese village of considerable size, its white--very white--houses standing out clear cut and prominently against the background of dark-green pines, and the lighter green of the valley fields in which they are, many of them, set. Of late years the clean-looking cottages of the villagers, the balconies of which are as often as not hung with delightful flowers, have been supplemented by good and large hotels, villas, and other modern up-to-date tourist accommodation. But, nevertheless, St. Ulrich is not yet spoiled, and there are still many of the almost mahogany-coloured barns and storehouses left, with their picturesque balconies running right round them, on which the grain and herbs are placed to dry, wood to season, and other stores are kept, forming so sharp a contrast to the hotels and white houses.

Although we imagine St. Ulrich's chief attraction is its quaint and interesting toy-making industry, there are many others including most beautiful scenery, and the numberless excursions which can be made from it. In winter time, to quote the quaint phraseology and spelling of a local guide-book, it has "a very strange charme for the friends of Tobogganing and Ski-sport has the valley in the always mild and snowy winter-time." And regarding the accommodation offered, the same luminous authority goes on to say there are "very comfortable stabled hotels and land-houses extraordinary fit as a summerset for residence, likewise for a start place for numerous high-parties to the Dolomites."

But let us give a brief description of the Toy Industry, which chiefly serves to differentiate the village from all others in Southern Tyrol.

St. Ulrich's wares are ultimately sent all over the world, and whether in New York, London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, or Rome one is almost sure to find amongst the toys, carved figures of saints, crucifixes, artists' "lay figures," chalets, and other articles some examples of work from this famous valley of wood carvers. The fact that nearly 3000, or about three out of every five, of the inhabitants are engaged more or less directly in the work will give some idea of its magnitude.

The carving industry at St. Ulrich is supposed to date from about the commencement of the seventeenth century, and there are some figures of the Virgin and Saints still extant in churches of the district bearing dates of that period, and other images of apparently much earlier date, which show that even in those remote times the carvers of St.

Ulrich and the Grodener Thal possessed considerable skill and reputation. It was, however, one Johann von Metz who at the commencement of the eighteenth century appears to not only have raised the standard of the work of carving to greater perfection, but also to have organized and extended the sphere of the trade itself.

In the years which immediately followed, the peasants were in the habit of themselves setting out into other lands with stocks of their work for sale; and some at least, according to tradition, found their way to England, and even across the Atlantic, where they abandoned the active work of carving for that of establishing trading depots in connection with St. Ulrich, and thus they distributed the work done in the far-off and almost then unknown Grodener Thal throughout the commercial world.

Nowadays to sally forth with their stock-in-trade on their backs or in a cart is no longer the practice of the workers. The greater number are employed by firms which act as wholesale distributing agencies for them, to whom they take their weekly output of work. Most of the villages of the valley are employed in the carving industry; St.

Christina, for example, making a speciality of "lay figures" and hobby horses.

Not only are most of the men of the villages in the Grodener Thal thus employed, but also many of the women and children. And it is no uncommon sight to see quite mites cutting away at blocks of the softer kinds of wood by the roadside or on the doorsteps of the cottages; and sometimes one meets the women on their way down from the woods or upper pastures with their barrel-like receptacles upon their backs, roughly shaping some article which will be finished off when they get home.

[Sidenote: "TOY LAND"]

Some of the carving done is really good, but it cannot be said to be cheap. One cannot find bargains in St. Ulrich, or, for the matter of that, in any of the villages of "Toy Land." The demand is too great, and the means of distribution too well organized for the peasants to care in the least whether one purchases a "bit" or not. There are practically no shops where carving is sold by the workers themselves, as nearly all are employed under contract or otherwise by wholesale dealers. But the tourist can generally visit one or other of the large _ateliers_, where, in particular, the carving of images and more elaborate articles is done under the superintendence of artists. It is an experience and a sight well worth spending an hour or two over.

In that time, by watching several figures at various stages approaching completion, one can obtain a very good and clear idea of the different transformations which the rough-hewn block undergoes ere it a.s.sumes its final shape of a Virgin, St. Joseph, St. Antony, or St.

Christopher. Many of these statues and smaller figures are sent to a different workshop for painting and gilding; and it is chiefly in the white chalets on the mountain side that the toys and smaller articles are made.

The goods are stored princ.i.p.ally in the larger houses of the villages.

One of the chief depots bears the name of the man who developed the industry, whilst other well-known merchants are Insam, Purger, and Prinoth. In these warehouses one sees shelf upon shelf laden with toys, figures, dolls, and other carved work; miniature waggons, monkeys on sticks, hobby horses painted in gay and let us add entirely "unnatural" colours, with flaming red, jet black, or piebald manes.

The toys are of all prices, just as they are of many sizes and qualities as regards "finish;" hobby horses costing from half-a-krone to several florins each; dolls ranging in price from a halfpenny and even less to five or six kronen. Figures intended to form the contents of Noah's arks are there by the bushel, the cheaper kind bearing, it must be admitted, but faint and partial resemblance to the animals they are intended to represent; the better kinds being excellent miniatures of lions, elephants, tigers, giraffes, bears (especially good these), and the hundred and one smaller animals and insects of the patriarch's great family party; and accompanying all the delightful smell of freshly cut pine and other woods in the warehouses given over to unpainted things, and the somewhat overpowering smell of new paint in the others.

Some of the dolls, more especially those which have Tyrolese costumes represented in wood, need great care in carving; and others are swiftly done, some by elementary machinery. The best wood used is the _pinus cembra_, or Swiss pine, which originally grew thickly on the sides of the mountains, but has now largely to be imported owing to the fact that whilst the trees have been cut down by the thousand, scant provision appears to have been made for the future by planting others. There is, however, plenty of the wood still left in the immediate neighbourhood.

Nowadays at St. Ulrich there is an excellent Imperial School of Drawing, and modelling, and there would appear to be a distinct advance of recent years in the carving (of animals and figures especially) in consequence of the teaching given, though in their main characteristics the animals and small figures produced have not much varied from the ancient types.

The church of St. Ulrich, although comparatively modern, dating only from quite the end of the eighteenth century, has a beautifully adorned interior; rather ornate and highly coloured perhaps, but interesting and typical. There is also in it a Mater Dolorosa by Maroder, and in the sacristy a fine marble Madonna by a pupil of Canova, Andrea Colli. The restored chapel of St. Anthony is also worth seeing, as it possesses a remarkably fine altar-piece, the work of Deschwanden.

[Sidenote: CONCERNING DIALECT]

There is a distinct dialect in the villages of the Grodener Thal, locally known as Ladin, which is said by philologists to be directly derived from the Latin tongue, and to date from the days of the Roman occupation. It is certainly so different from the dialects of modern Italy that it is almost impossible for the stranger, even though well-versed in those, to understand it. In some points it may be said to resemble the Grisons Romanche, and Romanese of the Engadine; but the parallel is not at all a close one, and needs several distinct qualifications. Although a deeply interesting one to philologists, it is impossible to deal with the question at all fully here. Certainly one would be inclined to think that this peculiar dialect has an Etruscan origin, for it is well-known that considerable remains of that people have from time to time been unearthed in the Grodener Thal, and, indeed, in the immediate neighbourhood of St. Ulrich itself.

St. Ulrich is charming in winter, when the village is half-buried in snow, and the lower slopes of the environing mountains provide excellent toboggan "runs," and ski-ing grounds. How different the little place appears under these conditions from the sunny spot set amid green fields and pleasant pastures that it is in summer, only those who have seen it under both conditions can easily realize. And truly (as the local guide we have before quoted says) "in winter there are many grateful excursions for the high-flying parties, and swift ski-ing." By "high-flying parties" one should doubtless understand those who wish to ascend the higher slopes.

Costume still survives at St. Ulrich and in the Grodener Thal, where (although less worn than even a decade ago) one still meets with women wearing the old style dress, with huge broad-brimmed felt hats trimmed with wide ribbons, and having short "streamers" down behind, or the still quainter high "sugar-loaf" hats, shaped almost like those of dancing dervishes, fitting down over the ears and allowing only the least suspicion of the forehead to remain visible. Wide linen collars, almost large enough to be called capes, with either plain edges or scalloped, and handsome ap.r.o.ns of silk, brocade, or other materials; wide skirts and a profusion of ribbons go to make up a costume which is always picturesque and often actually handsome.

From Klausen, to which one returns on one's way northward, one proceeds to Brixen, charmingly situated in the valley of the Eisack, amid green fields, and pastures, and afforested slopes. The twin towers of the Cathedral in the centre of the picture at once catches the eye from whatever point one approaches the town.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SUMMER TIME NEAR ST. ULRICH, GRoDENER THAL]

Brixen, though little more in size and population than a large village, is yet one of the most interesting places in Southern Tyrol.

It is not only historically and architecturally important, but is a pleasant place from which to explore the beauties of the neighbouring Puster Thal, Valser Thal, and Lusen Thal if only one's time permits.

Anciently it was one of the most notable towns in Southern Tyrol, for it was during nearly a thousand years, and, in fact, until 1703, the capital of an ecclesiastical princ.i.p.ality, with a long line of distinguished bishops, some of them almost as much noted for their militant as their spiritual qualities. It is still the seat of a bishopric, and in the town are many evidences of its past ecclesiastical importance and splendour.

Artists find much in Brixen to attract them, as do also students of architecture, and although the valley is wider than in some similar resorts, making mountain ascents longer before one can reach the higher peaks, there are many excursions to be made, and interesting villages to be visited. That it is an attractive town its many visitors make evident, and in the pleasant gardens, which seem always cool even on the hottest summer day, situated between the Eisack and the smaller Rienz, one meets not only with interesting Brixen types (sometimes peasants in costume), but also most of the foreign visitors who may be staying in the place.

[Sidenote: BRIXEN CATHEDRAL]