THE GREAT "STORM CRUCIFIX" AT GRÖDIG, NEAR SALZBURG.
From a Photograph.
A mischievous spirit called Zabera Jaggl is said to bewail bitterly the difficulties that certain bells put in his path when he wants to ride out on the wings of the storm. He is supposed to explain his troubles thus: "When I want to dash through the pass of Lueg the watch-dog of Werpener will not let me by"—the watch-dog being the great bell of Werpener Castle, which was always rung at the approach of a storm till the inhabitants of Abtenau, near by, implored the castle folk to cease, since in consequence of their ringing all the tempest swept on to Abtenau. He goes on to say: "If by any chance the watch-dog sleeps and I get safely past Hell Bridge across the Fritzbach, then I knock up against the big Altenmarker hound (the church bell of Altenmark), and he will not let me fly up the forest of Kreisten, where I ought to be able to do great damage. Supposing I try to turn back and ride to St. Martin's, then the mastiff at the inn howls and all the whelps yap (the big bell of the inn and the smaller ones found on every house-top in St. Martin), and I must vent my rage as best I can on Hell Mountain. Wherever I turn a watch-dog faces me, till in despair I climb the mighty mountain, tear the trees down, and whirl around the summits, lying down at last, dead tired, to rest on Dachstein."[1]
[1] Dachstein is one of the great mountains of the Tyrol. Round it endless legends and romances are woven.
A legend is told of the witch bell of Muhr, in Lungau, which is of a peculiar shape, very ancient in appearance, and very much chipped. It hangs in the middle of the peal of bells in the village church, and the story runs that the devil once rode down to Muhr, determined to enjoy himself, on the back of one of the biggest hurricanes ever seen. But the witches' bell was rung for Ave Maria, and every man in the village fell on his knees to pray for the defeat of the Evil One. So fervent were their prayers and so potent was the Ave Maria bell that Satan had to turn again. The memory rankled, and he determined to revenge himself. Now it happened that he was in league with one of the very worst witches of the neighbourhood, so he went to give her instructions, taking with him a "hell hammer," which is a very infernal weapon. According to instructions, she mounted her broomstick at midnight and flew away to the belfry at Muhr. She went straight to the middle bell and began hitting it with all her might with the hell hammer. But the bell had been consecrated, and resisted all her efforts till just before one o'clock, when she managed to chip it. At one o'clock, however, the hour for witches, ghosts, and ghouls is over, and so she had to pick up her hammer and fly home again. Since that time, however, the bell has lost most of its tone, and instead of being heard for miles around it can now only protect its own little parish.
Among the sights that strike one most in passing through the villages of the Salzkammergut are the "storm crucifixes" and "hail crosses." Sometimes you find them in the church porches, sometimes in the graveyards, and sometimes right out in the fields. They stand about fifteen feet high, and are often painted a reddish brown. There is almost always a second and shorter plank nailed across to form two extra arms. The figure of Christ is usually carved out of wood in a primitive fashion and highly coloured. All around, fixed on to the four arms, are the emblems of the Passion. These are the chains, the ladder, the sword, the staves, the lantern, the cock, the dice, the seamless robe, the sponge, the purse of Judas, and many more. Village artists and carvers frequently employ their winter evenings in making every emblem that they can think of, and they call them "Christ's weapons." On the 3rd of May, the day of the finding of the true Cross, they take them to the parish priest, who blesses them and fixes them to the crucifix.
THE "HAIL CROSS" AT UNTER ECHING.