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.
The image now to be seen only dates from 1491, and there is no record regarding the disappearance of the original "miraculous" one which it must have replaced. The interior of this church has suffered both from neglect and whitewashing at various times. But there are some quaint and excellent carvings, including a few pew ends, and also some fine iron work, and the figures adorning the ten columns which surround the high altar are interesting. It is as one comes into the village that the prettiest view of the church is obtained.
Rattenberg, which is some five miles distant from Kundl on the main line and road, is not much visited by tourists, and is chiefly of note on account of the copper mines, which are still worked. The town is, however, decidedly picturesque and repays a visit. Scarcely anywhere in Tyrol in a place of similarly small size does one get such contrasts in architecture. And, doubtless, for this reason one seldom fails, during the summer months, to find several artists at work in the narrow streets. One side of the river is occupied by houses and buildings of the most solid, gloomy, and altogether unprepossessing character, whilst on the opposite bank one finds the very antithesis in the pretty, light-looking dwellings, quaintly painted in delicate shades of buff, pink, and sky-blue. Beside them and between them are quaint courtyards and narrow alleys of often an extremely picturesque character.
WILHELM BIENER
Many people seem to confuse the Castle of Rattenberg, which dominates the little town and river, with that of Rottenberg, the crumbling ruins of which lie on an eminence overlooking the roads which lead out of the Inn Thal into the Achen Thal and Ziller Thal, once the seat of one of the most powerful feudal families of Tyrol. Rattenberg Castle is said by some authorities to date back to the days of the Roman occupation, and even to Etruscan times, and its history has been not less stirring and chequered than that of most other similarly placed fortresses of the Inn Thal. The chief event in connection with it was the imprisonment of Wilhelm Biener, the brilliant Chancellor of Claudia Felicitas de Medici, wife of the Archduke Leopold V. Biener, unfortunately, afterwards fell into disfavour with the pro-Italians at the Court of Claudia's son and successor, the Archduke Ferdinand Karl, Regent of Tyrol, and was executed at Rattenberg in 1649 and buried near the wall of the churchyard. Those who wish to know more of the romantic and stirring period of Tyrolese history in which Biener lived and died cannot do better than read that fine historical novel, "Der Kanzler von Tyrol" (The Chancellor of Tyrol), by Herman Schmid.
The story of Biener's fall may be briefly told. Claudia de Medici, on the death of her husband, with her Chancellor's advice and assistance, succeeded, not only in governing Tyrol wisely and well during the minority of her two sons, but, by the exercise of great wisdom, contrived to escape embroilment in the terrible and disastrous Thirty Years' War in which the whole of the rest of the German Empire was involved. Her rule, however, was not altogether without some harshness, which was chiefly shown in the collection of taxes, and in this matter the Chancellor Biener was naturally concerned, with a result that his zeal for his beautiful mistress's interests caused him to incur the hatred of a certain section of the Court and community at large. On one occasion he found himself in serious opposition to the then Bishop of Brixen concerning the payment of certain dues, the legality of which the bishop questioned. Biener appears for once to have failed in his usual skilful and diplomatic treatment of affairs. He wrote a very intemperate letter to the bishop, which the latter never forgot nor forgave. Years after the death of Claudia, the resentment against Biener took more definite shape, and he was accused of having misappropriated some of the money belonging to the State which had passed through his hands. Tried by two Italian judges, he was found guilty (though, apparently, upon very flimsy evidence), and condemned to death.
The fallen Chancellor made a last appeal to the Archduke Ferdinand Karl, son of his late mistress, and the Archduke, thoroughly believing in Biener's good faith and innocence, and, doubtless, remembering his many distinguished services to his family, reprieved him. Unhappily for the condemned man, his greatest enemy, the President of the Council, named Schmaus, was able to so delay the messenger that he arrived too late to save the Chancellor.
Biener was led out for execution, and on stepping on to the scaffold, he cried out, "As truly as I am innocent of this thing, I summon my accuser (Schmaus) before the Judgment Seat above before another year shall pass away."
When the executioner had done his work, and stooped to pick up the head to exhibit it to the multitude, he found that he had also unknowingly smitten off three fingers of the victims right hand, strangely (so the story goes) bringing to mind the remark of the Bishop of Brixen on reading Biener's letter years before—"The man who could write a letter like this to me deserves that his fingers which held the pen should be cut off."
By an equally remarkable occurrence, we are told, the President of the Council, who had been not only Biener's most relentless enemy but his chief accuser, died within the specified time of a terrible disease.