One of the little town's chief attractions to the antiquarian and the student of ancient and curious things will undoubtedly be the Calvarienberg, which lies a little to the north; green and beautiful, and crowned by a picturesque pilgrimage church. The ascent is comparatively easy, and well repays one for the climb, not only on account of the interest of the "Calvary," to form which the natural rocks have been adapted, but by reason of the delightful views which are obtainable from the plateau.
The path is dotted here and there by tiny buff-coloured chapels, painted a sky blue inside, marking the stations of the cross; and from almost all, as one turns round and faces the way one has come, or looks out over the valley below, there is some charming view, or tiny tree-framed vista, to arouse one's interest and delight one's eyes. The church, were it not so isolated, and set amid greenery, and surrounded with flower-bedecked grass, would strike one as garish, so bright in tone are the colours with which it is adorned. But somehow or other there, amid silence scarcely ever disturbed by the noises of the village and only occasionally broken by the musical tinkle of cow bells, and in a sunshine and air which is so bright and breezy and clear, one's artistic sense seems to rest unshocked by the vividness of the distemper and paint, and the crudity of the decorations.
THE MARTINSWAND
The village is, of course, very closely connected with several incidents in the defence of Tyrol against the various Bavarian invasions; and in the immediate neighbourhood is the Martinswand, which rises sheer from the valley below Zirl, and was the scene, according to tradition, of a perilous hunting adventure of the Emperor Maximilian. The story is as follows: It was on Easter Monday, in the year 1493,[27] when "Kaiser Max," as he was familiarly and affectionately called by his Tyrolese subjects, was staying at Weierburg, that he determined to set out on one of his favourite hunting expeditions on the Zirlergebirge. There are many accounts of what happened, but one of the most credited says that the chamois which the Emperor had been stalking suddenly led him down the precipitous face of the Martinswand.
MAXIMILIAN'S EXPLOIT
Intrepid hunter as he was, however, the steepness of the terrible descent, which suddenly opened up beneath his feet, did not quench his ardour for the chase nor deter him. But unfortunately, in his haste in scrambling down the rocks, the iron nails in his hunting boots were torn out one by one, until when he at last reached a rocky ledge scarcely a foot in width there was but a single spike left in either of them. To descend further was impossible, and upon glancing upward along the path he had come, the Emperor at once saw that retreat by the same way was equally hazardous. So there he hung literally between earth and sky, visible as a mere speck from the valley which yawned beneath him. A less fearless sportsman might well have been unnerved by the position in which he found himself, or exhausted by the strain put upon him. But the Emperor was made of tough and enduring stuff, and his nerves were iron. Not only did he manage to retain his foothold at that dizzy height, but he succeeded in nerving himself to look about him, and after doing so for some time discovered near by a small cleft or cavity in the rock which would afford him at least a better foothold, if not actual protection.
The members of his hunting party who had followed him to the edge of the precipitous Martinswand now looked down, but were unable to determine what had become of Maximilian. And none from below in the valley could, of course, see him, even if he had not been partly hidden, first, by the ledge of rock and then by the cave, from the fact that he was more than a thousand feet above them. At last, however, when his probable situation became known to his followers and to the inhabitants of Zirl, prayers for his safety and ultimate escape were offered up in the church; and the priests also brought the Holy Sacrament out to the top of the Martinswand, and there again offered prayers for the Emperor's deliverance.
His retainers, huntsmen, and companions in the chase gazed up or down, as the case might be, helplessly and hopelessly at him, and to them no human aid seemed to be possible. Just as every one was about to abandon hope (one version of the occurrence tells us), a daring huntsman, named Oswald Zips, appeared, having himself climbed down the precipice in pursuit of his quarry.
Surprised to find the Emperor, he called out, "Hullo! What brings you here?"