The Schönbrunn Palace, which lies outside Vienna, has been added to and altered by many succeeding sovereigns and is especially celebrated for its beautiful gardens. It is rather formal in architecture, and is best seen from the “Gloriette,” standing on rising ground, and affording splendid views all round, either from the terrace or the roof. The Imperial residence in Vienna itself is called the Hofburg, a conglomeration of buildings of various ages.
Even those who have never been to Vienna have heard of the Prater, the public park, comparable with the Row or the Champs Elysées, which covers many miles in extent and stretches to the Danube. Here the fashionable Viennese ride and drive. The entrance to the Prater is usually rather surprising, as the first part is a veritable fair dedicated to shops and book-stalls. At festival times with the flaring illuminations, the noise and fun and jollity, it resembles nothing else, but has an atmosphere peculiarly its own. The open-air cafés and seats and bands are much patronised by the lower middle classes in the evening on ordinary occasions.
In his most interesting book, The Realm of the Habsburgs, Mr. Whitman says:
Unlike many other towns, even Berlin, where festivity among the lower orders frequently degenerates into rowdyism, there is something strikingly pleasurable and Austrian about merry-making here. Even in places of amusement of a more or less boisterous kind, such as music-halls and dancing-saloons, if there is anybody who misbehaves himself, it may be an intoxicated aristocratic Trottel who has returned from the races, but it will hardly ever be a true Viennese.
The fine Imperial Opera House is noted all over Europe. As a musical nation the Dual Monarchy ranks second only to Germany, and the Blue Hungarian band or the Austrian band are now essential parts of every gay gathering in lands far beyond the bounds of Europe. How many a young couple has floated in realms of an ideal delight to the strains of an Austrian waltz! Music is part of the life of the Austrian, and the opera house is a national concern, as are also the chief theatres. The names of Austrian composers are legion, for the national genius seems to take this direction more easily than that of literature. Among them is that of Johann Strauss, composer of waltzes, blessed in many countries, many climes; from torrid to Arctic zones his lilting music moves the feet and no less the hearts of those in youth’s spring-time. He was born at Vienna in 1804, and is not the only one of his name to win fame with his music. His playing was only second to his gifts of composition, and when he visited England at the time of Queen Victoria’s coronation he won the favour of all music-lovers. He died of scarlet fever at Vienna in 1849. His three sons all inherited his musical talent, though in less degree.
The University at Vienna takes high rank and there are good schools in abundance. Altogether Vienna is a gay, self-respecting, pleasant town, which attracts those who have visited it to repeat their visits year after year.
No account of Vienna, however curtailed, could be complete without reference to Baden, which, though some distance away, is linked up by a good railway service with the capital, and is so much patronised by the citizens as to constitute a suburb. The very name carries its own explanation, for it is the natural mineral baths that have made the fame of Baden, though it must not be confused with the greater Baden-Baden in Germany. The only drawback to the place is its excessive popularity, which causes it to be submerged beneath waves of trippers at holiday times. The hot sulphur baths are equal to any in existence, and the music and dancing and entertainments of all kinds draw many who have no desire to improve their health to the gay watering place.
CHAPTER VIII
A MIGHTY QUARTETTE
In music Austria has ever taken a foremost place, and numbers among her sons some of the names that have become part of the world’s history. Perhaps the greatest of all is that of Mozart, the little Wolfgang, born in 1756, first of “musical prodigies,” who, as an innocent curly-haired child, sat up in his little night-shirt, lost in the melody which overflowed every corner of his being. His father was a violinist of some repute, and so his case followed the well-known law that geniuses are often the sons of those who have talent in the same direction. At three years of age the baby Mozart played on the harpsichord. He was born at Salzburg, a beautiful city, situated amid glorious scenery, and often compared with Edinburgh or Stirling. Neither Edinburgh nor Stirling, however, have the snow-mountains immediately behind, providing a backing for the castle on its boss of tree-grown hill, which rises abruptly from the plain. The snow-capped Alps rise around, in tier after tier, deep pellucid lakes lie in the shadows of the hills, and thick forests clothe the slopes. As the sunlight wanders from peak to peak living beauties are revealed, and the contrast of the glittering snow shining through the blue-black sharp-pointed firs is one to stir the artist soul to life. Small wonder that the spirit of music found her son in this ideal spot!
Salzburg has not always been the possession of Austria; indeed at the time of Mozart’s birth it was not so, but being incorporated in the Empire during the Napoleonic wars, it has since remained an integral part of it. The town is at the present time a peculiarly desirable centre for any visitor, as it stands on the line between Innsbruck and Vienna over which the Observation Cars run, and is also the terminus of that other line, similarly favoured, passing from here to Trieste.