A QUIET PASTURE
As time went by Salzburg reclaimed much ground from the rocky bed of the swiftly flowing river by confining the stream within more restricted limits. In former times, when the town was enclosed with walls, there was no such necessity, and the Salzach took its own course, encroaching much upon the lower-lying land along its banks. But nowadays on this reclaimed ground shady avenues of trees have been planted, which give a charming and distinctive character to this part of the city. Here, too, are some fine villas, where not so very many years ago was waste or wooded land, set amid trees and made pleasant by beautiful gardens, in which there seems to bloom a profusion of flowers all the year round.
The position and future prosperity of the town as a tourist resort was assured when Salzburg became the starting-point of a second main line of railway leading to Innsbruck via Kitzbühel, and the picturesque Unter-Inn Thal, and the centre of a number of branch lines.
It is through these modern developments that the life of Salzburg has so materially changed even within the memory of those who first visited it but, comparatively speaking, a few years ago. From a town of ecclesiastical and almost mediæval aloofness from the outside world, and from one which had for a considerable period seen its growth arrested and its life stagnant, it has sprung into being as a favourite summer and winter resort not merely for tourists, but also for those to whom the older portion of the town, its many historic buildings, castle, and fine churches, proves attractive.
SALZBURG'S ANCIENT FORTRESS
The most prominent of all buildings in Salzburg, and the one which has for most visitors the greatest attraction, is the fine old fortress of Hohen-Salzburg set high above the older town upon a tree-enshrouded and rocky spur of the Mönchsberg.
The ancient fortress, which has witnessed so many stirring events within its walls, and from which past generations of inhabitants have looked down upon almost equally dramatic and stirring doings in the town below, that throughout the ages defied capture, and at last came to be looked upon as impregnable, was founded nearly eight and a half centuries ago by Archbishop Gebhard.
As the centuries went by many additions were made to the original buildings, and the present castle dates in its chief portions from the last few years of the fifteenth and the first few years of the sixteenth centuries. These additions were principally the work of Leonard von Keutschach, Archbishop of Salzburg at the close of the Middle Ages. He was one of the great "building" archbishops to whose energies and enterprise the town at various periods owed so much. Of peasant origin he was not ashamed of his humble birth, and, being gifted with a sense of humour, chose a turnip as his armorial bearings. So frequently, indeed, are representations of this vegetable met with on escutcheons in various parts of the town, that the remark of one traveller who observed that "the Salzburgers appear to have sprung out of the earth" may be held excused.
Severe looking as is the fine old fortress (now given over to the uses of barracks), in whose courtyards princes, archbishops, nobles, and many famous men of the past centuries have walked, it was, however, not merely a strong bulwark of defence, truly "ein feste burg" dominating the town and plain, but also a palace. Although the castle has been stripped of much of its magnificence there happily still remain traces of it in the so-called Fürstenzimmer (state apartments), which formerly occupied by the rulers of the Province were furnished and decorated with all the splendour which marked the most lavish period of Renaissance influence. Chief amongst the relics of the latter are the beautiful and delicately carved panelling, the gilt work, and the richly carved and moulded ceilings of the principal apartments. In wandering through these now almost deserted rooms one is tempted to conjure up the scenes of magnificence they must have witnessed. Tragedy, comedy, chivalry, hate, joy, sorrow, success, and failure, all, the often lurid though magnificent gamut of life in the Middle Ages, must have been welded into the very fabric and atmosphere of this impressive and deeply interesting building. Among the chief relics of bygone splendour and pomp of circumstance there remains the beautiful and it is said unique Majolica stove, a truly wonderful example of Gothic ceramic art.