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.