Villach is a town which forms an excellent centre, being on the lines connected with Vienna, Venice, Botzen, and Meran. From here there are views of the glacier-covered Ankogel and other mountains in the Seebach valley. Through the Karawanken Alps we come down into the atmosphere of the Mediterranean, and find everything more advanced and smiling than on the northern side. Here we are in Carniola. The line crosses the Save valley by a viaduct 165 metres long, runs through a tunnel, and eventually reaches Veldes—another health resort—with a castle standing high above a lake. Other tunnels follow, and at last we come to the Wocheiner See, lying in a deeply cut cleft and most wonderfully situated. This gives its name to the last of the Alpine tunnels, that through the Julian Alps, and then we arrive at the most difficult and impressive part of the new railway, where the engineering feats make us hold our breath. Through the Isonzo valley we pass, with the river of that name flowing deep-green and curiously bright among water-carved white rocks. The river is crossed by a viaduct not once only, but again, and the second time by what is the largest stone railway bridge in the world at Salcano, 36 metres above the water. Tunnel after tunnel follows, until we reach Gorz, the capital of the principality of Gorz and Gradiska, the houses are grouped round the castle on its hill, and the place enjoys renown as a winter resort on account of the mildness of its climate. It is not until we are through the Opcina tunnel that we emerge to see the panorama of the Adriatic.
Styria lies to the east of Carinthia and Carniola and is no whit less interesting. It is traversed by the range of the Carnic, here called the Styrian or Karawanken Alps. Of these, the highest peak is the Stou, 7346 feet, but higher still is the Hochgolling, 9392 feet, in the prolongation of the Tauern range. The whole country is mountainous, and in consequence it is, like so much else of the Empire, rich in minerals; its iron mines are well worked and produce a large quantity of ore annually. There are also numerous mineral springs, of iron, of alkali, and of brine. Gratz, which is the capital town, has a population of over 100,000. There is a university here, and the inhabitants are almost all Roman Catholic; about two-thirds of them are German. The industrial side of Styria is worked much better than most parts of the Dual Monarchy. There is a good manufacture of iron tools and agricultural implements. The country also produces linen, paper, shoes, glass, and many other things. It was at one time held by Hungary, but has generally shared the fate of the two adjacent provinces. Styria shared in the Reformation, but was re-Catholicised by the determined efforts of the Archduke Charles in the sixteenth century. He settled the Jesuits in Gratz and set up a Catholic printing-press there. “A university for Jesuit instruction was founded in 1586. The nobles were obliged under pain of disgrace and even punishment to send their children to this university, and no one was allowed to attend the heretical schools of Germany.” When Charles died his work was carried on by his successor Ferdinand, who “began by driving all the Protestant preachers from Gratz and other towns; he then took possession of their schools, burnt their books, and forced the members of the Reformed churches to sell their property and quit the country. The Capuchins were sent for to help the Jesuits to bring back the people to the right way, and liberty of conscience was stifled for long years to come” (History of Austria-Hungary, by Louis Leger).
CHAPTER XII
THE TYROL AND ITS HEROES
It certainly would be no exaggeration to say that the best-known part of Austria, to other nations at all events, is the Tyrol. That strange, mountainous, beautiful corner of the empire is now as much a playground for the nations of Europe as Switzerland is. One of the first men to make a map of the Tyrol was Burghlechner in 1603, and, with the licence of the time, which allowed strange vagaries in the way of imagination, he drew it to resemble an eagle clutching with one of its claws the lion of Venice and with the other the native ibex. The resemblance, however, is not one that the practical Briton can trace, any more than he can see bears and human figures in the scattered constellations; to him the Tyrol, the Austrian part of it, is just a peninsula stretching out westward from the rest of the country and expanding at the two outermost corners.
There are several ways of reaching this delightful land by rail, one is by way of Vorarlberg from Lake Constance to Innsbruck, its capital; another from the north by way of Munich and Kufstein; another from the south by the railway over the remarkable pass known as the Brenner, the most famous of all the Alpine passes in the Tyrol.
One enterprising plan of the Austrian state railways certainly deserves encouragement from all lovers of beautiful scenery. In 1912 the Railways made arrangements with the Canadian Pacific Company to put upon their lines some of the famous observation cars with which all western travellers are familiar. These cars are constructed so as to give the traveller the fullest opportunity for seeing the panorama passed without obstacles, and besides the large plate-glass windows there is a platform where the view is as free as from a motor car. They are being built in Austria, and differ a little from the Canadian ones, having observation platforms at both ends, and these platforms are covered-in on account of the very numerous tunnels to be traversed in this hilly country. In connection with the cars a typist, an up-to-date library, and a free medicine-chest are carried! They have been made at Prague and in Moravia. Services have been put on from Buchs to Innsbruck, from Innsbruck to Vienna, and, as already explained, from Salzburg to Trieste, and places are available to first or second-class passengers on payment of five kronen in addition to the usual fares, a krone being equal to tenpence. These two routes have been chosen to cross the country from west to east and from north to south. Approaching from the west we get the first view of the Tyrol after passing through the Arlberg tunnel,—the fourth largest in Europe. All the valleys are crowned by gleaming peaks, the pastures look vividly green, and the little huts and farms absurdly neat. Through towering mountains 6000 feet or more, over the mighty single arch of the Tresanna bridge we pass to Landeck and the upper valley of the Inn. To the south glisten the glaciers of Wildspitze and Weisskugel, rising above the Oetztal valley before we sweep downward to Innsbruck.
Innsbruck is generally the first objective of the man who visits the Tyrol, and only when he has arrived there does he begin to think how he is going to jump off. Innsbruck is in itself a fascinating town, with picturesque streets ending in mountain heights crowned with glittering snow and appearing near enough to be reached with a well-directed stone. The town stands in a cross-stream of continental traffic, for it is on the Berlin-Rome and the Paris-Vienna-Constantinople lines, and most people who have penetrated Europe at all have come across it on one or the other. Though the capital of such a mountainous land, and itself surrounded with mountains, it stands on a plain, with the river Inn winding along through it close to its junction with the Sill. Like so many other places, Innsbruck is the daughter of one of its own suburbs, a little place called Wilten, which is far older as a burgh, but has now sunk to comparative insignificance in the growth of its mighty offspring. Innsbruck is now well supplied with trams and funiculars, and hotels on the heights as well as in the streets; and when one wanders up the mountain-sides one comes on the little kiosks and beer-houses so dear to the Germans, but in spite of all this Innsbruck remains unspoilt.
Italian influence is very noticeable in the architecture, especially in the old quarter, where many houses have arcades, and are covered with frescoes. The name of the town means “Bridge of Inn,” but the old wooden bridge, which saw desperate fighting between the Tyrolese and Bavarians, has been swept away, and there is now only an iron “structure,” identical with many a hundred others. A curious item pointed out to visitors is the bow-window of a palace, covered with copperplates, heavily gilt, and known as the “Golden Roof.” The monarch called “Frederick of the Empty Purse” built this freak in order to demonstrate the injustice of his popular nick-name!
A more important monument, from a material point of view at all events, is that of Maximilian I. This is one of the best known of its kind on the continent, and is visited by hundreds every year. It shows the emperor kneeling in prayer, and around him are twenty-eight colossal figures in bronze, like warriors guarding his repose. Among these are Clovis of France, Theodoric the Goth, the British King Arthur, many of the Austrian rulers and their wives. There are no less than twenty-four bas-reliefs in fine Carrara marble on the sides of the sarcophagus, depicting scenes in the emperor’s life. His marriage, his battles, his sieges, his marches, his councils are all given with especial care; the dress and arms of the figures introduced are true to life, and the cities which come in as backgrounds have evidently been represented as truly as possible. This was done by Alexander Colin of Malines, who finished it in 1565, excepting the four last plaques, which show quite another hand. Notwithstanding the magnificence of this monument, Maximilian is not buried here but at Neustadt, near Vienna. He passed a fortnight every winter in a cell in the monastery of the Capuchins at Innsbruck, cooking what food he wanted and attending to his own needs. The story accounting for this strange custom tells of a day when the Archduke was hunting chamois in the neighbourhood of Innsbruck and lost his footing on a giddy precipice. He caught on some projecting forked branch, and there he swung. His followers, who seem to have made no attempt to rescue him, gave him up for lost, and having by some means brought a priest to the foot of the precipice persuaded him to extend the holy Sacrament in the direction of the king, as a softening of the terrible end before him. But a chamois hunter passing along the top of the rock risked his life on the face of the cliff and succeeded in saving the monarch. The precipice where this is said to have occurred is Martinwand (the wall of St. Martin), and is nearly 800 feet high. In memory of his deliverance Maximilian became a hermit every winter thereafter.
From the very earliest times there must have been some sort of a fort to guard the entrance to the Brenner Pass, one of the best known ways through the Alps in this region. The Romans, of course, seized upon this strategic position, and fortified it.