The starting-place for the ascent of the Schlern is usually Waidbruck, already referred to, and from thence a carriage-road leads by way of Kastelruth and the charmingly situated summer resort Seis, 3285 feet, to Bad Ratzes, 3950 feet, situated in the wild but well-wooded gorge of the Frotschbach. Between Seis and Bad Ratzes, set in the forest, are the ruins of the ancient home of the Minnesinger Oswald von Wolkenstein. From Bad Ratzes the peaks of the Schlern can be easily reached by a mule track, although serious climbers generally take up their residence at either the Schlern House or the Schlern Inn whilst ascending the various peaks which can be most easily reached from that point.

BLUMAU--TIERSER THAL--ROSENGARTEN.

From the Schlern and Rosengarten district one proceeds from the railway station to Blumau, 1020 feet, near Bozen, into the renowned and picturesque Tierser Thal. The carriage-road from Blumau takes one through pretty scenery in about two and a half hours to the little village of Tiers, and then on to Weisslahn-Bad, 3818 feet, from whence tourists' paths have been made leading up the Schlern to the Grasleiten hut, and over the Niger to the Kolner hut, from which one can then either ascend the Rosengarten, or proceed through beautiful flower-bedecked Alpine meadows to the charming Karer See.

KARER SEE--BOZEN.

From Karer See the road, which, though a fair one, is not practicable for motors, winds, gradually descending, through beautiful woods to Welschnofen, 3865 feet, a favourite summer resort, situated in a fine open valley with splendid views of the towering serrated ridge of the Latemar on the right, and on the left the beautiful Rosengarten. From Welschnofen there is a good road to Birchabruck, 2895 feet, a pretty place where the Welschnofen Thal branches to the left, and the wildly romantic Eggen Thal, leading to Bozen--which is the princ.i.p.al town in southern Tyrol--to the right.

Fa.s.sA THAL--PANEVEGGIO--SAN MARTINO--TRENT.

At Predazzo there branches off from the high road another good road which leads over the Rolle Pa.s.s, 6510 feet, into the Pala Dolomites, and then over Primero, 2350 feet, on one side towards Venice, and the other towards Trent. This fine high road threads its way through a splendid forest to Paneveggio, 5055 feet, a pleasantly situated village--set amid pine woods--from which one can return over the Lusia Pa.s.s, 6745 feet, to Moena, and ultimately to Karer See, with magnificent views of the Colbricon, the Cimon della Pala, and the Oetz Thal Alps in the background. From Paneveggio, too, the road climbs up the Rolle Pa.s.s, which forms the watershed between the Adige and Brenta, and then descends to San Martino, 4740 feet, which is charmingly situated in a beautiful wooded dell at the foot of the Dolomites. The road from the head of the pa.s.s to San Martino, once a monastery, is by stupendous zig-zags cut through a splendid forest.

Yearly the little village is becoming more and more popular, owing to its beautiful situation, the equableness of its climate, and the many charming excursions which can be made on every hand suitable either for the pedestrian or the climber.

The Imperial road from here descends rapidly to Primiero, and then traverses a wildly romantic ravine full of boulders, and with tree-clad mountain slopes to Primolano, on the Italian frontier, and thence to Tezze, 740 feet, which is the present terminus of the railway, and is the princ.i.p.al point on the Val Sugana road uniting Tezze with Trent, 640 feet, the chief town of the Italian Tyrol, with 25,000 inhabitants.

These, then, are a few briefly sketched tours in the Dolomite region which will, as we ourselves know, well repay the seeker after magnificent scenery, pure air, and solitude, or society, as the case may be.

Quite recently a most excellent and original type of relief map of the Dolomites has been published, which on account of its clearness and comprehensive character makes it a very valuable, if not positively indispensable, companion for all who wish to travel in this most interesting, though somewhat complicated district. Fortunately the map, which is published at a remarkably moderate price, is to be obtained at all the princ.i.p.al railway stations of the south Austrian railways, and one cannot do better than obtain a copy ere setting out for a Dolomite tour, whether it be an extended one or not.

We would call particular attention to the fact that the Dolomites being, many of them, on the frontier between Austria and Italy, there are numerous fortresses dotted about in quite unsuspected corners, the sketching and photographing of which, or even of their immediate surroundings, is very strictly prohibited. Warnings on signboards are erected at all the points of danger, and the instructions placed thereon should on no account be disregarded. The consequences of so doing are likely to be extremely unpleasant, and possibly lead to the at least temporary incarceration of the offender.

FOOTNOTE:

[20] The heights given are those appearing in the latest edition of Baedeker's "Eastern Alps" and the publications of the Vienna and Austrian Alpine Clubs.

CHAPTER XI

THROUGH THE UNTER-INNTHAL: KUFSTEIN--KUNDL--RATTENBERG, AND THE STORY OF WILHELM BIENER--BRIXLEGG, AND ITS PEASANT DRAMAS--THE FAMOUS CASTLE OF MATZEN--ST. GEORGENBERG, AND ITS PILGRIMAGE CHURCH--CASTLE TRATZBERG--SCHWAZ

The first view one has of Kufstein from the railway, or rather of its ancient fortress of Geroldseck, which dominates the prettily situated little town, is almost bound to evoke the remark that it is a Salzburg in miniature. Indeed, the parallel is not an inapt one, for the partially tree-clad and rocky eminence on which the last stronghold held by the Bavarians at the end of the invasion of 1809 stands bears considerable resemblance to the greater Monchsberg with the town spread out at its feet.

The river Inn has narrowed ere it reaches Kufstein, which may be called the border town of north-eastern Tyrol, and now flows rapidly onward to meet the Danube. The place is pleasantly situated; but it is rather on account of the interest and beauty of its surroundings than to the town itself that its growing popularity as a holiday resort must be chiefly ascribed. And yet, with that ancient and grim old castle above one, with its huge round tower dominating the rock on which it stands, and the charming valley and pine-clad slopes of the environing hills spread out on either hand, one is tempted to linger in the town.

The Castle, which in all probability occupies the site of Roman _Albianum_, marks the position of one of the oldest settlements in Tyrol. Even in the times of Charlemagne there is at least one record of the place "Caofstein," accompanied by some interesting details.

From its position near the borderland of an antagonistic race Kufstein's history is romantic, stirring, and chequered. As a well-known writer upon Tyrol aptly says, "For centuries it was turned into a political shuttlec.o.c.k, now taken by force of arms, then by stealthy surprise, now mortgaged, then redeemed or exchanged for some other possessions by its whilom owners."[21] And its general fate and varying fortunes were similar to those of other frontier fortresses, such as Kitzbuhel during the Middle Ages.

The grim fortress upon the rock, somehow or other, when seen in the fading light of evening, seems to bear its story of cruelty, rapine and harshness on its face. Many a gallant heart in the old days, which people are so p.r.o.ne to label "good," pined or fretted to death within its walls; and, unless tradition is entirely at fault, many a n.o.ble maiden and dame also were incarcerated and died tragic deaths within its thick, grim walls, and in its sunless dungeons.

The history of the fortress, so far as it concerns us, may commence with its cession to Bavaria in or about 1363 by the d.u.c.h.ess Margaret, the last of Count Albert's successors as rulers of Tyrol, when she found herself unable to govern the country. She had acquired the estates of Kufstein, Rattenberg, and Kitzbuhel on her marriage with Louis of Brandenburg; and when she ceded Tyrol to Austria it was stipulated that these properties should revert to Bavaria.

[Sidenote: SIEGE OF KUFSTEIN]

These possessions remained Bavarian until the reign of the Emperor Maximilian I., when the two latter gave allegiance to him. Kufstein, however, refused to yield, and so in 1504 Maximilian appeared before it, and commenced a siege. This event is particularly interesting, as some authorities state it const.i.tuted the first occasion on which proof was given that the introduction of artillery meant the death-knell of mediaeval fortresses, however strong and hitherto regarded as inaccessible they might be. We are told, however, that the guns brought to bear upon the Castle by the Emperor in the first instance were quite ineffective, so much so, indeed, that the Governor, named Pienzenau, whose sympathies were strongly Bavarian, aroused the Emperor's anger by causing some of the garrison to sweep up with brooms the dust, which had been the only damage done by the besiegers' guns to the Castle walls, which were of great thickness, and also to dust the latter themselves with the same articles in full sight of the besiegers. The guns were either too small, or had been placed at too great a distance from the Castle to do more than graze it with their shot.

Finding his culverins and "serpents" of no avail, the Emperor dispatched some one to Innsbruck for two monster guns, known as _Weckauf_ and _Purlepaus_, which the Governor of that town, Philip von Recenau, had recently cast at the foundry. These weapons, of which drawings are extant, although the chroniclers of the time do not mention their calibre or dimensions, were of considerably larger size than "Queen Elizabeth's Pocket Pistol" at Dover, and threw b.a.l.l.s of about 300 pounds in weight, it is said, for a distance of nearly two thousand yards. The arrival of the great guns put a very different complexion upon the siege; and after they had been brought to bear upon the castle, and had been fired,[22] it was found that their shot not only penetrated the fourteen-feet-thick walls with ease, but even the rock itself was pierced, according to some historians, to a depth of eighteen inches. Pienzenau now wished to surrender to the Emperor, provided his life was spared. But Maximilian did not forget the incident of the brooms, which bears some slight a.n.a.logy to the historic "broom" incident connected with the Dutch Admiral Van Tromp, who hoisted one at his masthead in derision of the English, whom he claimed to have swept off the seas. "So he is anxious to throw away his brooms, is he?" the Emperor is said to have remarked. "He should have taken this course before. He has caused by his obstinacy the walls of this fine fortress to be so shattered, so he can do no less than give his own carcase up to a similar fate."

And although great efforts were made to obtain pardon for Pienzenau and some of his more important supporters they were unsuccessful, the Emperor remaining quite obdurate. It is this execution of a brave man (whose courage and fidelity to his nation should have aroused nothing but admiration) which is a stain upon the Emperor's record. No less than five and twenty of the princ.i.p.al defenders were condemned to be executed. The survivors of the garrison attempted to escape secretly before the general a.s.sault, which had been arranged, took place, but they were captured. The first to be beheaded was Pienzenau; but when seventeen (some authorities say eleven) of his companions had shared the same fate, Eric, Duke of Brunswick, interceded with Maximilian so earnestly that the lives of the rest were spared. This same Eric had formerly saved the Emperor's life in battle, and possibly this fact influenced the latter towards clemency. Over the grave in which the victims of Maximilian were buried by the people of Kufstein was erected a little chapel at Ainliff on the opposite bank of the river.

The booty and valuables taken from the Castle were placed together and divided (including, for those times, the very large sum of 30,000 florins in hard cash) according to the rank of the victors. The Emperor showed himself on this occasion more just to his troops than he had been clement to the defenders, as he paid his share of the spoil into the common fund. The small booty he took consisted chiefly, if not entirely, of skins of the lynx and marten, and other hunting trophies.

Kufstein, after its reduction by the Emperor Maximilian, was garrisoned, and in succeeding ages underwent numerous sieges, including the memorable one during the campaign of 1809, when Speckbacher performed deeds of bravery which were almost apocryphal in character.

[Sidenote: A KUFSTEIN ROMANCE]

As is perhaps only natural, there are many legends and romantic stories connected with the fortress, some of them arising out of the life-histories and achievements of the many distinguished prisoners who were from time to time during the Middle and succeeding ages confined within its walls. Amongst the more romantic captives was the famous Hungarian brigand, Andrew Roshlar, who was tried and condemned to death at Szegedin nearly forty years ago, to whose account upwards of a hundred murders were ascribed.

Kufstein must have been a difficult place from which to break out, but there is, at least, the tradition of a prisoner in the fifteenth century making good his escape. He was a Tyrolese knight captured by the Bavarians, and confined, apparently with some degree of comfort and laxity of surveillance, in one of the upper chambers of the great round tower, from which, through the devotion of the girl (a maiden much beneath him in rank) to whom he was secretly betrothed, he succeeded in escaping. The story goes that this girl, who came from some place west of Innsbruck, having discovered the whereabouts of her lover after some difficulty, succeeded in obtaining a post as maid in the household of the then owner. After some weary weeks of waiting, she obtained access to her lover's cell, having been given the work of carrying up to him daily his supply of food and water. It was then arranged between them that she should each day convey to him a small quant.i.ty of hemp, out of which he was to fashion a rope. This she did, concealing the hemp in the bosom of her dress. In course of time the imprisoned knight had made a sufficiently long rope to reach from his window to the ground, the bars across which he had gradually almost filed through from the outside inwards, so that any one casually examining them would not be likely to discover the fact. Everything was ready for the escape, and it was arranged that the same night the girl was to make her way out of the Castle and join him ere the great gate was shut.

On the day fixed she had brought the captive's allowance of food about noon, as usual, when on leaving the cell and making her way downstairs she was accosted by one of the steward's sons who had sought her favour. She was horrified to find that he suspected the plot, and that the price of his silence was her honour. She hesitated, and pitifully entreated him to spare her, but to no avail. Then, when he told her that not only would discovery mean her own death in all probability, but certainly the death of her lover, she yielded. About sundown she left the castle, and mad with grief at the shame and insult she had been compelled to suffer, she wandered about until it was dark. She had determined to a.s.sure herself of her lover's escape, and then to cast herself from the steepest point of the rock upon which the Castle stands down into the valley below. In the dusk she at length saw faintly a black figure descending against the wall, and then she heard cautious footsteps approaching the thicket in which she stood concealed.

With a half-stifled cry which she could not altogether suppress, she hurried through the undergrowth, and was within a few yards of the edge of the rock, when she was seized by her lover and saved from destruction. The story goes on to say that they both escaped, and that the knight eventually married (and, let us hope, lived happily with) the brave girl who had compa.s.sed his deliverance.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A PEEP OF KITZBuHEL]

The town of Kufstein itself does not call for extended description.

But one feature that immediately prepossesses the visitor in its favour, if one arrive, as we did when last there, on a hot summer day, is the number of shady promenades to be found, more especially on the east side of the town, in the neighbourhood of the delightfully picturesque Kiengraben. None should fail to visit the Calvarienberg, from which there are delightful and extensive views of the Castle, town, and valley.

[Sidenote: KUFSTEIN TO KITZBuHEL]

To reach Kitzbuhel from Kufstein it is necessary to change trains at Worgl, eight and a half miles down the Unter-Innthal, and proceed up the Brixen Thal by the Staatsbahn past Hopfgarten to Kitzbuhel. The town is a charming one, surrounded by gardens where once there ran a moat, and containing some interesting houses along the banks of the Kitzbuhler Ache. Many of them still have Gothic roofs and gables, which give them a mediaeval appearance, and one of great charm. The town has of late years become a favourite summer resort, and its fine situation in a wide valley nearly 2500 feet above sea-level has much to recommend it. But its fame is by no means merely that of a summer holiday spot. It is almost equally resorted to for winter sports of tobogganing, ski-ing, and skating, and may be, in fact, called the Tyrolese Grindelwald or Adelboden. Then the snow-clad valley is indeed beautiful, more like fairyland than aught else, with only the church spires of Kitzbuhel and the pines on the hillsides to break the wide white expanse.

The Kitzbuhelhorn is a favourite ascent, from which very fine views are to be obtained, especially of the giants of the Tauern range, the Chiemsee, and the rocky and impressive Kaiser Gebirge. The pasturage and the Alpine flora in the neighbourhood of Kitzbuhel are especially rich, and there are many beautiful excursions to be made in the district round about. In the Brixen Thal, indeed, the artist and the student of costumes and ancient customs, which are, alas! so rapidly dying out, will find much of interest. In many of the villages the annual contests, consisting of wrestling and other sports--which anciently were often so strenuous as to lead to serious injury to the combatants and compet.i.tors, and even bloodshed--still take place. At Kitzbuhel there is an athletic gathering in June, which is held on a plateau near the inn on the Kitzbuhelhorn, and partakes of the character of the Grasmere Sports of our own land, and the Braemar gathering in Scotland.

The peasants as a general rule in the Brixen Thal, as in the more famous Ziller Thal, are musical, and often indeed are quite skilled musicians; and frequently as one wends one's way through the flower-spangled pastures or climbs the mountain-side, from some isolated hut or shady nook beneath a boulder will come the musical tinkling of a cowherd's zithern or the flutey notes of his pipe. But, as a rule, we have found the players shy of performing before strangers, who will therefore be well advised if they listen to the music unseen and without seeking to discover its source.

The Brixen Thal, too, is a great dairy district, the chief industries of which are b.u.t.ter- and cheese-making.

As regards the scenery of the valley one may say that in few others in Tyrol does one come across a greater variety of light and shade, or more delightful cloud effects. Indeed, the clouds, which at one time seem as though they will sweep down the mountain-sides and obscure everything, and at others sail majestically, like huge cotton-wool argosies, across the blue vault of heaven, thousands of feet above the highest peak of the Tauern Giants and the bare and grey limestone peaks of the Kaisergebirge, in themselves form pictures and phenomena of the greatest beauty and of ever changing interest.

[Sidenote: MONKISH MIRACLES]

Kundl is a small village some four miles south-west from Worgl, and it would attract little attention from travellers were it not for the curious church of St. Leonard auf der Wiese (St. Leonard in the Meadow) and the quaint legend attached to it. The story goes that early in the eleventh century a stone statue of St. Leonard came floating down the Inn to this spot; and the people, recognizing that for a stone statue to float was nothing less than miraculous, after securing it, set it up by the roadside, so that all who pa.s.sed by should see and reverence it. Probably modern scepticism will lead us to suppose that the figure was in reality of wood and not stone; and then the miracle explains itself! The region is subject to floods, and doubtless the figure of St. Leonard came from some church higher up the valley which had been destroyed by avalanche or inundation.

However, the story goes on to tell us that the statue had not long been placed in position alongside the high-road ere Henry II., Duke of Bavaria, himself pa.s.sed that way, and seeing it paused to ask an explanation of its being there. When the story had been told him, he seized the opportunity (as did many other rulers in those days) to strike a bargain with Heaven which, whilst benefiting Mother Church, would also be not without profit to himself. He therefore vowed that if the expedition into Italy, which had brought him along that road, should prosper and his forces be victorious, he would on his return build a handsome votive church over the spot where the figure of the saint stood.

Alas! for human vows, even those of one destined to become an Emperor.

Although his arms prospered, and he was crowned at Pavia, and made King of Germany, he forgot all about St. Leonard. Some years later (in 1012) fortunes and the cares of his kingdom once more brought him into Tyrol on his way northward and to the spot where the figure of the saint still stood by the roadside. Then another miracle happened, for his horse, "although urged forward with whip and spur and words,"

refused to pa.s.s the spot where his master had formerly made so solemn a vow, and stood foaming and champing his bit much to his rider's embarra.s.sment. As was but natural, the Emperor at once remembered his vow and set about fulfilling it.

The church, which was forthwith commenced, was finished in a couple of years, but a catastrophe marked its completion. Just as a young man was about to place the vane in position he was seized with sudden giddiness, and falling to the ground was dashed to pieces. "His body,"

so a somewhat quaint local version of the story has it, "was gathered together by the horrified onlookers," and his skull--which can still be seen--was placed at the foot of the crucifix on the high altar as an offering. There is a record in the church of the fact that the Emperor erected the building, and that Pope Benedict VIII., who was a nominee of his, made the very considerable journey from Rome to consecrate it. There would, however, notwithstanding this, appear considerable reason for doubt whether he did.