Tyrol and Its People

by Clive Holland

CHAPTER V

THE ENVIRONS OF INNSBRUCK—CASTLE AMBRAS AND ITS TREASURES—IGLS: A QUAINT LEGEND CONCERNING ITS CHURCH—THE STUBAI VALLEY, AND SOME VILLAGES—HALL AND ITS SALT MINES—SPECKBACHER'S OLD HOME—ST. MICHAEL

Distant from Innsbruck about three miles by a shady road running eastward from Berg Isel, which forms a charming walk of a summer afternoon, stands the famous Castle Ambras on a well-wooded spur of the Mittelgebirge overlooking the wide Inn Valley, and with a fine view of the slopes and peaked summits of the limestone mountains which shut in the valley. It is a conspicuous and commanding feature of the landscape when seen from the latter, its yellow-grey walls pierced with many windows showing up against a background of dark-green forest. But on a fine summer day Castle Ambras is too bare-looking and insistent in colour to be entirely picturesque.

Long back, when the Romans held sway in Tyrol, on the site where the castle now stands was placed a fort—one of those outposts of civilization which that world-conquering power dotted so plentifully amid the hills and valleys of Tyrol. Ancient as this fortress was, it is considered by many authorities that even it replaced, or was erected upon the foundations of, a far earlier building dating from Etruscan times. The first castle, as is generally understood by the term, was that built by the Andechs, who towards the end of the tenth century were one of the three chief ruling families in Tyrol. Indeed, until the Terriolis became Counts of Tyrol they were the most powerful of the three great temporal territorial lords, and previous to their extinction in the male line in the middle half of the thirteenth century had acquired vast possessions. They were a typical mediæval and feudal family, distinguished alike in the council and upon the stricken field. In turn it provided officers of the Roman Empire, pilgrims to sacred shrines, and to Rome itself, crusaders and religious enthusiasts who founded important and wealthy monastical institutions.

The history of the builders of the Castle of Ambras would fill many volumes with incidents of brave and noble (and sometimes cruel and ignoble) deeds; romantic episodes, which supplied the travelling minnesingers with themes for their songs; and records of stirring events, in which national as well as family history became entwined. Of them one historian has written, "they were esteemed upon earth, more particularly by the wandering minstrels who were always and at all times welcome to their hospitable roof and table, and beloved in Heaven to which they contributed several saintly souls."

On the death of the last of the male line of the Andechs, Duke Otto II., in 1248, the castle and the family estates passed into the possession of the Counts of Tyrol. Ultimately the former was purchased from the then owners by the Emperor Ferdinand I., and was given to his son, afterwards Ferdinand II., when the latter was appointed Regent of Tyrol. It always remained his favourite home, even when he became Emperor, and it was to this castle that he brought his beautiful bride Philippine Welser in 1567.

AN ARCHDUCAL ROMANCE

The true story of the love of the Archduke Ferdinand, son of the German Emperor Ferdinand I., will probably never be accurately known. But the event is indissolubly bound up with Tyrolese history. Not unnaturally the idyllic and romantic circumstances surrounding the marriage have been much overlaid by tradition and the possible desire of historians to make this Royal mésalliance yet more astonishing. Therefore it is impossible to vouch for the entire accuracy of the story that has come down to us, which we give as it may be gathered from contemporary and more modern writers.

STORY OF PHILIPPINE WELSER

The meeting of the Archduke Ferdinand and his future wife—who was the daughter of one Franz Welser, a wealthy merchant prince of Augsburg in the middle of the sixteenth century—took place when the Archduke accompanied his father on the occasion of the latter's state entry into the city. It was whilst passing along the principal street that the former noticed at a window of one of the larger and more important houses the face of a most beautiful young girl, who, after having thrown flowers down in the street, on seeing that she had attracted his attention, blushingly disappeared within the house. It was apparently, so far as Ferdinand was concerned, a case of love at first sight; for, charmed by her beautiful face, he lost no time in discovering who she was, and, according to some authorities, saw her on several occasions whilst in the city. Afterwards he paid court to her whilst she was at Bresnic, in Bohemia, on a visit to an aunt.

Philippine was already betrothed by her father to the heir of the great and wealthy Fugger family; but fortunately for her and the young prince, Philippine's mother was a woman of much influence with her husband as well as the confidante and friend of her daughter. However, it was not an easy task to win his consent to the betrothal to Prince Ferdinand or for the proposed alliance with the Fuggers to be broken off.

Both the fathers were anxious for it, and Welser had never been known to go back upon his word or a bargain. But whilst the older men were engaged in counting their wealth, and congratulating themselves upon the marriage which had been arranged with little or no thought of affection between those most concerned, Ferdinand had evolved a plan by which, with the assistance and connivance of Frau Welser, he was able to accomplish his design of carrying off her daughter.

On a day arranged, and at the hour agreed upon, the young prince, who was two years Philippine's junior, appeared beneath the turret from which he had first seen her leaning. A little distance down the street his horse was waiting. Philippine, after receiving her mother's blessing, and comforted by her approval, joined her lover, and fled with him to the chapel where the latter's own confessor, one Joann Cavallerus, was waiting to solemnize the marriage, with an old and trusted servant as witness. Another account states that the ceremony was performed at Bresnic by the same priest.

Ultimately, Franz Welser, to whom doubtless a properly carried out marriage with a prince had some attractions, gave his consent and benediction. It is difficult, perhaps, in these more materialistic days, to quite sympathize with the attitude which this wealthy and worthy burgher of Augsburg at first assumed towards his daughter's marriage. Then, with reputable merchants, not only was their word their bond, but in them was a strong element of pride which would not readily brook that they should be looked down upon even by princes. And doubtless it was this pride which was principally at the back of old Welser's opposition to Prince Ferdinand's suit. But the magnificent dowry that Philippine's father was rich enough to give her was one of which no prince need have been ashamed.

At the time of his marriage the Archduke was twenty-eight and Philippine two years older. The Emperor, of course, refused to acknowledge the marriage when he ultimately, some years after its celebration, became aware of it. And although we are bound to admit the story of Philippine's personal appeal to him to forgive his son and her rests on a very shadowy basis, and is, indeed, rather traditional than historical, we give it for what it is worth.

The story goes that Philippine, distressed not only for her own position but for the trouble she had brought upon her husband by estranging him from his father the Emperor, journeyed to Vienna with her little children to gain an audience with her royal father-in-law in person. To do this was a matter of great difficulty, and though she ultimately succeeded, it was only by reason of her great beauty and her gentleness, and the fact that she had assumed another name. Then, after entering the audience chamber, she fell upon her knees and told the Emperor her own story in the guise of an allegory, saying that she was the happy and beloved wife of a gallant nobleman of great position whose father would not recognize her because she was herself not nobly born; adding that, hearing how just and good the Emperor was, she had come to him to implore him to intercede for her and her sons with her obdurate father-in-law. Having listened to her tale the Emperor, delighted with the grace, eloquence, and beauty of Philippine and with her two sons, told her that he would grant her request and would appeal to her father-in-law to not only forgive his son, but to recognize the marriage, adding that it passed his comprehension how any one could refuse to receive so charming and beautiful a woman into his family. Then, as was to be expected, he asked the name of her husband's father. And she, throwing herself once more upon her knees, told the Emperor that it was he himself to whom she had referred, and that she was the wife of his son Ferdinand.

The Emperor could scarcely go back upon his word nor could he stultify himself by denying the charm and beauty of Philippine now that he discovered who she really was; and won over by the courage and persistency which had inspired her journey to Vienna to seek to approach him in person, he not only forgave his son but also recognized her as a daughter-in-law. Some accounts, although this is probably not so, state that he wished the marriage still to remain a secret, and appointed Ferdinand Regent of Tyrol, sending him and his wife to reside at Innsbruck.[14]

The Emperor's wishes were carried out, and it is said that it was not until her death generally known that Philippine was actually married to the Archduke. After her decease, however, the circumstance was made public and the Archduke was always accustomed to refer to Philippine as his wife. Of course the marriage was a morganatic one, and therefore neither of her two surviving children, Andreas and Charles, inherited the Archducal titles.

Four years previous to the Archduke Ferdinand's coming to take up his residence at Innsbruck as Regent of Tyrol he had acquired the picturesque and finely situated Castle of Ambras, and by many alterations and additions to the then existing building soon made it one of the most noted as well as one of the most beautiful residences in the whole country. He furnished it with great magnificence, and when all was completed presented it to his wife Philippine. Here they usually spent the summer months in a happiness which was not only proverbial but undoubted.

As have been several other rulers of Tyrol, the Archduke Ferdinand was not only greatly interested himself in art, science, and literature, but he sought as the patron of these to gather around his person and to attach to his Court learned professors, artists, and scientists from all parts of Europe. As a result the court of Ferdinand and Philippine grew from an artistic, musical, and intellectual standpoint to be a particularly brilliant one.

CHARACTER OF PHILIPPINE

The character of Philippine seems to have been as pleasing as was her physical appearance. She is said to have had a fine, clear, though somewhat pale, complexion, blue eyes, and golden hair, although it must be added that existing portraits of her do not do her justice in the latter regard, unless her beauty was greatly exaggerated. In most of them she appears with a slightly oval, and more Italian than Teutonic type of face, with well-marked and well-bowed eyebrows, soft, but intelligent eyes, a straight nose, and a very sweet, and even in some portraits "roguish," mouth; but as a whole her face is not one of striking beauty, judging it by the standards of more modern times.

Philippine, when settled at Ambras, greatly interested herself in good works of all kinds, but more especially in the visiting and care of the sick, and the memory of her good deeds in this respect is still cherished in Tyrol. Her chief physician has set down the large number of sick who were at various times under her immediate care, and in the record one finds mention of ailing folk of many nationalities, showing her Catholic spirit in the relief of suffering. She even had her own dispensary at Ambras in the charge of one Guranta, who was a celebrated chemist of that time. Concerning her one of her biographers says, "She, herself delicate in health from early life, had a strong and ever ready sympathy for sufferers, especially those who were distressed in mind or circumstance as well as in body."

During the years she lived at Ambras she gained such a knowledge of disease and the remedies usually employed in those days that she wrote a book of prescriptions herself, which is now to be seen in the Court Library, Vienna. It is a most interesting volume, as it contains a considerable record of the effects of the remedies used; sometimes written by Philippine's own hand with remarks added as comments upon the success or failure of the treatment.

Philippine was in other ways also of a philanthropic and kindly disposition, and on many occasions girls in her service, or who were known to her, received the pleasant surprise on their marriage of a wedding dress from her; and there is still to be seen at Innsbruck a dressmaker's bill, the total amount of which is largely comprised of wedding dresses given in the way we have mentioned.

Although the burgomaster's daughter, according to her own confession, would rather have led a less exalted and more retiring life than that incumbent upon her by reason of her marriage with the Archduke Ferdinand, all writers are agreed that she ably and well adorned the position to which she had been called. Of her husband's great affection for her there can be little doubt. Indeed, it was so notorious that the Venetian Ambassador Michiele, when on a visit to the Archduke, reported to his Government that Ferdinand was never so happy as when with his wife, and in fact was never an hour away from her.

Philippine, in spite of her many social duties and exalted position, was an excellent and even an ideal German haus-frau. She was a clever needlewoman, skilled especially in embroidery; and quite an expert and practical cook. She might, indeed, be said to have rivalled the famous Mrs. Glass, as she wrote an exhaustive cookery book which displays a great and practical knowledge of the culinary art, and is, happily for the curious, preserved with her book of prescriptions in the Court Library at Vienna.

Nothing was too good for Philippine in the estimation of the Archduke. Not only did he give her the magnificent Schloss Ambras, Stubai Valley, and all it contained, several villages, and vast sums of money, but also the estates of Königsberg, Salurn, and Hörtenberg.

COURT AT CASTLE AMBRAS

The Court at Innsbruck and at Castle Ambras was a gay one, and numerous brilliant entertainments were given during the married life of Ferdinand and Philippine. Amongst the many fêtes which took place at various times one finds a record of one in the diary of James von Payersberg bearing the date of July 13, 1570, in which there is a record of Philippine having won the first prize, which was a silver gilt cup of great value, for shooting with a crossbow; whilst her aunt, Madame De Loxan, who on Philippine's marriage had been appointed as her Mistress of the Robes, won the second. An interesting circumstance in connection with this fête is that the gentlemen and ladies competed together in the shooting match, with the result that the former were defeated in the manner we have stated.

At Castle Ambras not only were there collected together scientists, artists, musicians, and many learned men, but also, as was the custom of those days, jesters, and "freaks" of various types, whose curious divergences from the normal have many of them been preserved in portraits hung in the Castle. Of ordinary servants, retainers, pages, etc., there was always a huge retinue entailing an enormous expenditure and a commissariat department of considerable magnitude. Philippine, although her natural tastes were so divergent from those of her husband who loved gaiety, sport, and the pomp of circumstance, by her gentleness, affectionate study of his wishes and great tactfulness, succeeded in not only gaining but keeping his affection throughout their married life. It is said that Philippine, whether the story of her captivation of her royal father-in-law's heart be true or not, was gladly and very generally received by the Tyrol nobles, who were distinguished not only by their chivalrous but also by their generally haughty disposition. Very friendly relations also appear to have existed with neighbouring courts, whilst Pope Gregory XIII. had so high an opinion of Philippine's religious sincerity and virtues that he sent her by special ambassador a beautiful and very valuable rosary.

Philippine died in 1580, surrounded by members of her family, and in the presence of the Archduke Ferdinand and the Dukes Ferdinand of Bavaria and Henry of Brunswick, after a married life lasting twenty-three years, and an illness of only a few days' duration. So beloved was she throughout Tyrol that general mourning was observed for some months, and masses were said in all the churches of the land for the repose of her soul. How great the affection borne her by the people amongst whom she came to live really was, is well shown by the fact that in many a cottage home in Tyrol portraits of her even nowadays are found.

In death as in life she was mindful of her people and of the poor; and when she had been laid to rest in the Silver Chapel of the Franciscan Church at Innsbruck, where her beautiful though unostentatious tomb, with its recumbent figure lying within a semi-circular arch and with a crucifix hanging from her crossed hands, is placed, it was found that in her will few of her household had been forgotten, whether their positions were high or menial.

The death of Philippine was a heavy blow to the Archduke, and for some months after the event he lived in complete retirement, seeing no one but his two sons, his Father Confessor, and his most intimate personal friends.

However, after his grief had somewhat spent itself, he set out on a tour, accompanied by his two surviving children; one of whom, Karl, became Bishop of Brixen and a Cardinal (died 1600); the other, Andreas, Markgrave of Burgau (died 1618), and the owner of Castle Ambras by the will of his father. This bequest was made on condition that Andreas maintained and kept the building in repair, and preserved the magnificent collection of rare MSS., books, pictures, coins, armour, and other objets d'art, and curiosities which Ferdinand and Philippine had delighted to gather, and in the possession of which they had taken such pride.

Eventually, in 1606, so that this wish of his father might be adequately carried out, Andreas disposed of the Castle and grounds to the Emperor Rudolf II., and by this means Ambras and its unrivalled collection came into the possession of the Imperial Austrian family.

TREASURES OF CASTLE AMBRAS

Just two centuries later, owing to fear lest the priceless treasures should fall into the hands of the French and Bavarian invaders, the greater portion of the Ambras collection was removed to Vienna, and at first lodged in the Belvidere Palace from whence it has of recent years been transferred to the Imperial Art History Museum of which it forms a most interesting and valuable part. Thus was Tyrol robbed of one of its chief glories, and although at various times promises of restitution have been made they have never been fulfilled.

There are still, however, some interesting things left at Castle Ambras, including the valuable collection of Weapons lodged in the Unterschloss, dating from the fifteenth century to the present day (formerly, in the sixteenth century, it is said that the Armoury contained no less than five hundred complete suits of mail); the eight Roman milestones in the outer court, found along the road from Wilten to Schonberg, and dating from the time of Septimus Severus about 193 to 211 A.D.; and the collection of furniture, ivories, glass, and portraits, which latter include several of the Archduke Ferdinand and Philippine Welser, etc.

On the ground floor of the Hoch Schloss or "upper castle" is an interesting and well-restored fifteenth-century Gothic chapel, with some frescoes by Wörndle; and a bathroom, said to be that of Philippine, is on the same floor. It was around this little room that tradition wove the tragic story (since disproved and altogether discredited) of Philippine having committed suicide by opening one of her veins in order that her husband might re-marry with some one whose rank was more in conformity with his own. For many years, for several generations, in fact, this tale was given credence, and was accepted by at least the common folk as exemplifying the domestic virtues for which Philippine was justly famed. But although Ferdinand's mother appears never to have accepted the position or to have become reconciled to Philippine, the rest of the members of his family appear to have treated her well, and, so far as history can show, there never was any reason for the sacrifice of her life she was for so long supposed to have made, in the interests of her husband's happiness and position.

The fame of Philippine Welser has outlived the centuries which have elapsed since she died; and the burgher of Augsburg's daughter was destined to become one of the most popular of Tyrolese heroines; and there is in consequence many a peasant home in Tyrol to-day where her portrait in some form of reproduction or other has a place with that of some favourite saint or even the Virgin herself.

There are several other traditions connected with this beautifully situated Castle of Ambras. One is that Wallenstein, whilst a lad and a page in Ferdinand's service, fell out of the window in the corridor which leads to the dining-hall and received no hurt, owing to the fact that during the terrible moment when he lost his balance he vowed to the Virgin Mary if spared he would lead a more serious and better life.

The castle, as did so many historic fortress-dwellings in Tyrol, gradually fell into decay; but when the Archduke Karl Ludwig, who was Governor of Tyrol during a short period in the middle of the last century, decided to take up his residence here it was thoroughly repaired and restored. The Art treasures, which remained after the removal of the main collections to Vienna, have been supplemented from time to time by contributions from the Imperial collections in Vienna, and in 1882 the Emperor threw open the castle to the public as a Museum.

Of the many interesting rooms at Ambras two never fail to arouse the admiration and curiosity of visitors. The first is the Waffensaal, in which there is a collection of armour and arms, which has a sixteenth-century ceiling painted by G. B. Fontana, of Meran, with astronomical and mythological designs; the second, the famous and magnificently proportioned Spanish salon, with its exquisitely panelled wood ceiling and walls adorned with frescoes of the rulers of Tyrol, from 1221-1600.

The view from the terrace, with its trellis of passion flowers and vines, across the Inn valley on a clear summer's day is one of great charm and beauty, and as one gazes across the fertile valley to the wonderful range of mountains that towers above it, the colours of which seem to change with every passing cloud, one can realize something of the affection Ferdinand, art lover and artist as he undoubtedly was, always had for Castle Ambras.

THE TOURNEY GROUND

None who come to the castle should fail to visit the picturesque and secluded Tummel-platz or Tourney ground, which overhangs as it were the village of Ambras, with its ancient church and quaint frescoes of the Last Judgment. On this spot during Ferdinand and Philippine's occupation of the Castle many jousts and knightly encounters are said to have taken place. From the gay and chivalrous use of those and previous times the Tummel-platz has passed to a melancholy one as the burial-ground of patriots and heroes. It was first put to this purpose when the Castle was turned into a military hospital—which for a short time it remained—and afterwards as the burial-place of some seven or eight thousand of Hofer's soldiers who fell in the wars with France and Bavaria, from 1809 to 1810. Indeed, it actually formed part of the battle-ground of 1809.

As is perfectly natural, and in accord with the patriotic and religious spirit of the people, they have adorned the quiet and beautiful burial-ground with chapels, shrines, votive pictures, and memorials which confer upon it a distinctive and impressive interest, and sentiment which few such places can show. As a poet sings—

"Near Ambras, on the upland,

In fair Tyrolean land,

Within a cool green forest

Full thick the crosses stand.

"There gallant knights in armour

Once met with spear and shield,

And from those olden combats

'Tis called the 'Tourney Field.'

"Long rusted are the lances,

But, as the breezes blow,

Old, half-forgotten stories

Like spirits come and go."

From Castle Ambras it is but a short journey by tramway to Igls, which is situated nearly a thousand feet above Innsbruck, but cannot be seen from the town. There are also two roads by which one may reach this little mountain village; one leading past Ambras, which is favoured by the less energetic of walkers, and the other, by which we ascended, much steeper, more picturesque and shorter. From Wilten it passes over the Sill Bridge and then ascends the Paschberg and winds along the edge of the fine Sill Gorge. When the little village of Vill is reached one seems suddenly to step into a fresh region of experience; one singularly different from that of Innsbruck, which, after all, lies but a mile or two away in the valley down below. Here as one comes in sight of the elegantly tapering red spire of the church one obtains an insight into the life of the upper valleys, and soon notices the Tyrolese custom of adorning the outside walls of the house with paintings, which, generally religious in subject, are many of them of a striking and even meritorious character as regards execution. In Vill none should fail to notice the painting of the Angel of Peace, which is over the doorway of a house in the main street.

BEAUTIFUL IGLS

One of the most beautiful walks hereabouts is that by the path which leads down through the woods to Gärberbach inn on the great Brenner High Road, from which point Berg Isel can be reached on foot in less than half an hour.

Still climbing upwards from Vill and leaving the sights and sounds of the valley behind us we gradually approach Igls. Innsbruck and every trace of the wide valley and environing hills across it have suddenly vanished, and one finds one's self in the midst of wide extending and restfully green upland pastures, with a vista of the charmingly situated little villages of Natters and Mutters, across the Sill Gorge (which here is almost imperceptible) with their church steeples, green tinged and red turreted, shining in the clear Alpine air, and giving to the scene just that touch of colour which an artist loves.

It is possible in Alpine valleys such as that in which Igls nestles to more truly estimate the factors which make the Tyrolese such a home-loving and patriotic people; and to realize how the chief human as well as religious associations even nowadays—as they did in the past—cluster round the village churches which rear their slender spires Heavenwards almost wherever half a dozen houses are grouped together.

There are many splendid peaks towering above the picturesque valley in which Igls lies; amongst them the Habicht, more than 10,700 feet, Saile-Spitze, and the rugged Waldraster-Spitze, 8920 feet; and the lower slopes are well-wooded and beautiful at all seasons in their varied tints of green.

Igls has altered considerably since we first visited it, and it now has the aspect of a mountain health "resort" of a modest and unassuming type, with some good hotels, a post office, telephone and telegraph. It is little wonder, then, that this favoured spot should have lately attracted to it many visitors in search of quietude and fresh air. The clean air and pure breezes off the glaciers and snow-fields above, which, filtering down across the pine woods of the lower slopes, come to one in the open valley not less fresh and invigorating but somewhat softened and perfumed, give it one of its chief charms.

The little church is of considerable interest, not only from its picturesque situation, but also by reason of the pastoral scenes which are painted upon its organ loft, and the many quaint relics and votive offerings to be seen in it, which are a feature of so many Tyrolese village churches. The mural paintings on the houses in the village are numerous and curious, some of the most interesting relating to the legendary story of the Heilig Wasser. In connection with this there is a pilgrimage chapel picturesquely situated, in almost absolute solitude save for the Inn, on the mountain side more than two thousand feet above the valley.

A MIRACULOUS TALE

The church is built upon the site of the alleged miracle, the story concerning which is as follows:—Three centuries ago two cowherds were tending their flocks upon the upper pasture above Igls, when they were unfortunate enough to lose two young calves; and although they sought for them far and wide along the paths and amid the woods they failed to find them. At length, quite wearied out, and frightened lest they should be severely punished for their carelessness by their father, they fell on their knees and supplicated the Virgin and Saints to help them. Almost as soon as they commenced to pray a bright light fell upon them and round about, and the Virgin appearing beside them bade them be of good cheer, and told them to trouble no more as the lost cattle had gone home to their byre. Then she bade them drink, for their throats were parched with their wanderings. But the two lads, knowing there was no water near, exclaimed, "You tell us to drink, but where shall we find water? There is none here."

MOUNTAIN POOL ON THE RITTEN

The Virgin made no reply but vanished; and as she disappeared from their vision there welled up, where she had stood, a spring of clear water from out the rocks, which has never ceased to flow since.

On their return home the boys refrained from saying anything about the vision or the miraculous spring, perhaps lest, notwithstanding the calves had been found in the cowshed as the Virgin had promised, they should be blamed for careless herding. But they never failed, when passing by the spring, to offer up a prayer of gratitude.

Many years passed and the two cowherds not only grew to man's estate but became old and infirm, needing the assistance of others to look after their flocks. One of the two was aided by the deaf and dumb son of a neighbour, and one day, as the old man and boy were passing the spring, the former knelt down and prayed and drank of the water. The boy seeing him do this did likewise, and lo and behold he found his tongue miraculously loosened, and afterwards spoke as clearly as any other.

The fame of the miracle spread abroad, and was readily believed by the people of the valley. Then the two old men told their own experience, and soon a chapel was built on the spot to which through the centuries many devout pilgrims as well as many curious visitors have journeyed.

Amid the woods by which Igls is surrounded, and along the fertile valley in which the village stands, are many charming walks, and yearly the place is becoming more resorted to by those who appreciate the lovely and bracing mountain air, and a very pleasant form of what has become known as the "simple life."

To the south-west of Igls and south of Innsbruck across the Sill is the lovely Stubai Valley, the beauty of which almost challenges that of the Oetzthal. Like the latter this valley is also verily the gate to the land of snow-fields and glaciers, of which there are upwards of eighty within its confines and hard by. The Stubai Thal is a combination of scenery of widely different character. Within a radius of a few miles, towering above its green and peaceful pastures, at least two score of magnificent peaks rear their heads skyward, none of which fall far short of (whilst many exceed) 10,000 feet in altitude. The lower portion of the valley is reminiscent of the far-famed, music-loving Zillerthal, with its dark-green pine forests, fertile meadows, and villages perched here and there on the slopes of the mountains, or nestling in the valley itself around the white-walled churches. This kind of scenery extends some little way beyond the village of Neustift, which is the last in the valley having a church, and then one seems to at once pass into a mysterious, wonderful, and fascinating region, where the legendary gnomes and ice-maidens of Tyrolean folk-tales and lore must surely dwell in caverns and habitations of perpetual ice and snow.

Though there is a good mountain road winding up the hillside above Wilten, which in former times served the picturesque villages Natters, Mutters, Kreith, and Telfes, most travellers nowadays use the electric railway (the first made in Tyrol) for the journey to Fulpmes, which lies about half-way to Neustift and is rapidly becoming a favourite excursion resort for Innsbruck people.

The railway (although it has been called a "toy" one) presents considerable features of interest to the engineer, and elements of apparent—but not actual—danger to the timorous. At least, one lady we know who had made the upward journey, had been across the slender viaduct supported on tapering piers, and had been whirled round curves of astonishing "sharpness," refused—until the distance by road had been pointed out to her—to return the same way. But there is in reality no risk on the Stubai Bahn, only an element of pleasant excitement, and the charm of wonderful scenery; and the latter is so beautiful and the little saloon cars so well adapted for viewing that few will, after all, we think, regret travelling to Fulpmes by train instead of a-foot or by carriage. The place was formerly celebrated for its iron and steel works; the articles made finding their way not only to Austria, but also to Germany and Italy; and although of late years the trade appears to have somewhat declined, it is still considerable and of interest to the curious who can watch the skilful artisans at work. The village is most picturesquely situated, and in the church there are some paintings by a local peasant girl quite worth seeing. Fulpmes forms an excellent centre from which to make excursions in the upper portions of the lovely valley, and amid the wooded slopes of the environing mountains. In summer there is the additional charm of the wealth of beautiful wild flowers which gem the fields, and spread like a many-coloured carpet of glowing tints beneath the shadow-casting and sombre pines.

VIADUCT ON STUBAI RAILWAY

VIEW OF THE GROSSGLOCKNER

FULPMES AND SCHONBERG

At Schonberg, south of Igls, and on the opposite bank of the Sill, standing nearly 3500 feet above sea level, one obtains a most widely-extended and panoramic view of the Stubai Valley and its villages. And as one stands in the Alpine observatory near the "Jagerhof," one is able to realize the full beauty of the valley, and the wonder of the mountain summits, including the Serles Spitz (also known in Innsbruck as the Waldraster Spitz), whose rugged peaks remind one of those giants in the Dolomites.

But perhaps one of the most strange and interesting natural phenomena in all Tyrol is to be seen from Schonberg when the snow-fields, which in winter completely cover the mountain tops on every hand, begin to melt. Then gradually there appear in different parts of the upper slopes of the mountain ranges dark spots which, framed in unmelted snow, at last assume the appearance of silhouettes of gigantic size. On the peaks away above Innsbruck are slowly formed the figures of two women who appear to be fighting, and whose noses as the snow melts become more hooked and longer each day; on the Solstein a priest is seen carrying an aspergillus in his hand, whilst on the Arzletscharte appears the most complete "picture" of them all, known as the "Falconer." This, a silhouette of remarkable vividness, depicts a youth dressed in a page's costume, adorned with a hat and plumes, and carrying on his left arm a falcon unhooded for flight. As the snow melts the figure loses its pristine slimness and assumes the form of a corpulent man, until at last it entirely disappears. On the side of the Patscherkofel is seen the figure of an old hunter with his dog; which, however, owing to the rapid melting of the snow when once a thaw commences, is only visible for a short time. Indeed, a few hours after we first saw it, for the reason we have given, the change was so great that the outline was almost destroyed.

Hall, from time immemorial famous for its salt mines, is well worth a visit. Lying on the north or opposite side of the Inn to Igls, and to the east of Innsbruck, it can be reached either by the prosaic post-road which traverses the Valley, or from Igls by the beautiful Ellbögen road—a branch of the Brenner road dating from Roman times—passing over the Mittelgebirge and through Igls, Lans, Aldrans, Ampass, across the bridge over the Inn to Hall, which is somewhat longer. Equally picturesque, perhaps one might say even more so, is yet another road (the one we preferred) which skirts the lower slopes of the towering peaks of the Bavarian Alps, and passes through the villages of Arzl, Rum, and Thaur. There are also the alternatives of the Brenner railway, and the tramway for those who are poor walkers or are pressed for time.

SOME PRETTY VILLAGES

From Mühlau onwards one has most exquisite views of the broad and fertile valley, and the magnificent mountains which tower above the wooded slopes, swelling gently upward from the Inn, in wild and craggy peaks of rugged beauty. This walk is rendered additionally attractive and picturesque for all who are interested in folk-lore, or who are able to enter into the legend and religion of the people, by the pilgrimage chapels which are found along the route. One of the most charming of these in all Tyrol is that of Arzl, which, standing on a wooded knoll, is brilliant with colour, a gem of its kind in a charming setting of dark green. The little church of Maria Loreto built by the religiously inclined Anna Katharina Gonzaga, second wife of Ferdinand II., was once a famous pilgrimage place, but of late years has been much less resorted to than formerly. The interior is, however, well worth inspection. The wood carvings and iron work are both interesting, as are also the old engravings which hang upon the walls, and the curious black Virgin and Child upon the Altar.

Arzl, Rum, and Thaur are all picturesquely situated, nestling as they do on the lower slopes of the great limestone peaks, the first named standing at the foot of the Burgstall which rises majestically to a height of nearly three thousand five hundred feet. Many of the houses in these three villages are most elaborately decorated with mural paintings; in some instances the whole of the fronts are so adorned, and often masses of corn hang on trellis work on the walls. The effect of the brilliant tints of the paintings and the coloured window frames gives an additionally picturesque air to the little villages. Seen in summer the gay effect is perhaps a little neutralized, but in winter, when the landscape is more cheerless and there is a background of snow and grey-green rocks, the picture formed is a unique and wonderfully cheering one.

Concerning Thaur, where so many houses have either a painting or an image of a man with a bear upon their fronts, there is a legend of St. Romedius, who centuries ago came riding into the village blessed with a keen appetite gained by exercise in the invigorating mountain air. Whilst the saint was engaged in satisfying his hunger, a wandering bear, so the legend goes, was so impressed with the holy man's accomplishment in this respect that he promptly (for want of other food) emulated it by eating Romedius' horse. On coming out to renew his journey the Saint was astounded at the disappearance of his steed. He, however, seems to have guessed what had happened, and forthwith preached the bear such a sermon upon his iniquitous conduct that he was not only moved to penitence, but also sought to make amends by offering himself as a substitute for the Saint's former steed.

Although the proposal might appear to us as accompanied with some considerable risk when the bear once more became hungry, the Saint accepted it, and ultimately set forth on his strange steed to a cave in the mountains north of Thaur, where they lived for some considerable time without mishap. One day, however, as the holy man slept, a troublesome fly came buzzing round his head, and the sleeper failed to drive it away, with the result that the bear (who we are told had all this time watched over his master with great solicitude) came to the rescue and sought to get rid of it; however, without success. The fly returned again and again to the charge, and the bear in desperation aiming a blow at the fly, alas! struck and killed the Saint. This time the grief of the bear was, of course, of no avail, so he would eat nothing and gradually pined away, ultimately dying of hunger.

This story, though it has its comical side, is not, however, held to be disrespectful to the life and character of Romedius, who is one of the best esteemed Tyrolese saints. It appears more than probable, however, that Romedius (whether killed by his companion the bear or not) actually died in the Nonsthal, South Tyrol, where there are, strange to say, villages of somewhat similar names to those we have mentioned, namely, Torro, Rumo, and Arz.

THE MARKET PLACE, HALL

HALL AND ITS MÜNSTERTURM

Hall, which is one of the most picturesque, busy, and interesting little towns in the neighbourhood of Innsbruck, with some 6000 inhabitants, dates from the time of the Roman occupation of Tyrol. By the well-known historian, Beda Weber, the name is stated to have been derived from the Greek word ἁλός, salt; the reason for such derivation from an unlikely language he does not, however, in any way seek to explain. As one enters the town one is at once struck by the strange and quaint mingling of the picturesque with the utilitarian, the rural with the mediæval. Long before one reaches the town one sees in the distance the greenish copper cupolas of the Pfaarkirche or Parish Church which has so fine a Gothic portal and interesting relics, around whose walls shops are grouped; and rising above the other less lofty and less time-mellowed buildings, the massive Gothic tower known as the Münsterturm with its red "pepper-box" roof of Roman origin, although the present tower was built by Duke Sigismund, the famous son of Frederick of the Empty Purse. A steeply ascending street leads to the market square, in which the Pfaarkirche and Rathaus stand opposite each other. And in this and contiguous streets there are many quaint balconies, gabled roofs, and old-time architectural features to interest and charm the artist and antiquarian visitor.

Although Hall has somewhat declined as a commercial centre with the rise of its big neighbour, Innsbruck, it is still a place of considerable activity on account, chiefly, of the famous salt mines. In former times these and its position on the banks of the Inn (then much more navigable) gave the place importance under the rule of the Counts of Tyrol, and the earlier of the Austrian princes; many barges and boats from the Danube itself in former times making their way into the Inn and thence to the flourishing town of Hall. The salt works still remain its principal industry. Hall is, as things go in Tyrol, a distinctly smoky town; but it is seldom that the smoke hangs in the clear and fresh Alpine air which sweeps along the Inn valley down from the environing hills.

The Münsterturm, mint tower, which, as we have said, is so prominent an object on approaching the town, is of historical interest from the fact that it was built to enable Duke Sigismund, known as the Rich, to turn into coin his great store of silver taken from the Tyrol mountains. It was from this tower, too, that Andreas Hofer issued his Kreuzer and twenty Kreuzer pieces during the period of his brief dictatorship.

As was the case with many another Tyrolean town, Hall suffered in the past from the calamities which afflicted so many similar places in the Middle Ages. It was swept in turn by fire, sword, and pestilence, and shaken to its foundations by the earthquake which occurred in 1670. So severe was the shock, we are told, that the watchman on the parapet of the church tower was thrown off and killed by falling to the ground, and the people fled out of their houses to the open fields where their priests exhorted them to prepare for the Day of Judgment. That the alarm created was very great is borne out by the fact that, although the loss of life would appear from contemporary sources of information to have been slight, for some time afterwards the services of the church were all performed in the open air. Hall, however, chiefly on account of its salt mine resources, recovered, and these and the many privileges the burghers enjoyed enabled them in time to regain their former prosperity.

The town played an important part in the various wars which had Tyrol for their battleground during the Middle Ages; and during the Patriotic War the people of Hall were not less brave and self-sacrificing than those of other places. One gallant deed in especial of that long struggle for freedom is directly connected with the town. In May, 1809, Joseph Speckbacher (who was born on a Gnadenwald farm near Hall in 1767) and his troops attacked the Bavarians at Volders, near Hall, and after blowing up the bridge behind him he marched to the relief of the latter town, which was held by the Bavarian troops. These had artillery, and were also numerically stronger and better armed, so that the task set before the patriot force was no slight one. Happily, Speckbacher became aware that the Bavarians were short of ammunition, and therefore when a truce was proposed he refused to agree to it. The Bavarians after, as they thought, completely destroying the Hall bridge, which they held as well as the town, retreated. Calling upon his men to follow him, Speckbacher led them boldly on to the then dangerous and tottering structure, entered the town and pursued the Bavarians.

AN INTERESTING CHURCH

In the churchyard is an interesting wooden crucifix carved by Joseph Stocker in 1691, as well as some monuments of the principal Hall families of former times. The church itself should be visited, if only for the "Salvator Mundi" by Albrecht Durer painted on a panel, and the high altar-piece by a pupil of the master Reubens, named Erasmus Quillinus. One of the chapels, the Waldaufische, was built in 1493 by Florian von Waldauf, who, originally a peasant boy, entered the Imperial Army and ultimately became one of the confidential advisers of the Emperor Frederick and his son, afterwards Maximilian I. He was also ennobled and given considerable estates. He met with many adventures on his journeys into foreign lands, and on one of his expeditions was in so terrible a storm as to be threatened with shipwreck, and he vowed if his life was spared that he would found a chapel in his native land. As events turned out, he lived to reach Tyrol once more, and in accordance with his vow founded the chapel in the church at Hall, which was also the parish church of Rettenburg Castle and estates which Maximilian had granted to him. Upon this chapel he bestowed numerous relics which he had acquired during his various travels, and nearly 50,000 pilgrims came from all parts of Tyrol to the consecration service.

More than one of the chapels and churches of Hall owe their origin to special circumstances of a more or less romantic character. That of St. Saviour, for example, which stands on the site of some tumbledown hovels which existed in the first years of the fifteenth century. The story goes that it was to a dying man in one of these that one of the priests attached to the village church was summoned to convey the Viaticum, and administer extreme unction and the last rites of the Church. He came in due course to the hovel, and placing the sacred vessels on a rickety table the latter collapsed and the Host was thrown on to the floor. This was, of course, a terrible disaster in the eyes of the priest and peasants; and a rich burgher, Johann von Kripp by name, hearing of the circumstance, purchased the cottages, and as a reparation for the sacrilege which had occurred, founded a church on the spot, dedicated to the Redeemer.

The Hall records are of great interest, and show that the town was a place of much importance in the fifteenth century, when a considerable part of the trade between Venice and Germany passed through it. In those days, too, the town was somewhat celebrated for its junketings, more especially the feasts which were held in connection with the opening of the sessions at the Courts of Justice.

The neighbourhood, on account of the good sport provided, was a favourite hunting-ground with the Emperor Maximilian, who on several occasions was entertained in the town.

Hall declined slowly in importance during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries by reason of the change in the trade routes; but in quite modern times has regained some at least of its former prosperity by adopting up-to-date methods.

There are numerous excellent and interesting excursions to be made from Hall, but nearly every one pays a visit to the famous salt mines, which are to the north amid most romantic and beautiful scenery. Even by carriage the journey of about eight miles takes the greater part of two hours; on foot even good walkers can scarcely hope to do it in less than three. The scenery is in places very fine, and one enjoys most beautiful views, and nearer glimpses of the Bettelwulf, Speckkar and Nisslspitz Alps.

ABSAM AND JAKOB STAINER

On the way one passes 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 embarrassment, 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 anticipated 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 god 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.

A WONDERFUL WINDOW

In connection with this little Tyrol village are several other stories and legendary tales of a highly romantic and interesting character. Space, however, can only be found for one other. The story of the event or circumstance 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 Schöpf.

After considerable investigation and the examination of witnesses the committee declared that the glass 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 superstitious 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 circumstance 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 circumstance 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.

THE HALL VALLEY, WINTER

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 mediæval 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 glass 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 altitude 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 amusements which give one a far better idea of the Tyrolese peasants as they are than days spent in towns, and weeks spent reading books.

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 passes 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 passes 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 passes 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 circumstances 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.