Part 10

Above the route which leads from Meran to Botzen, not far from Terlan, are to be seen the ruins of the old castle of Maultasch, which was once the favourite residence of a Princess of the same name, and from her appears to have inherited this name, while another legend says the Princess derived her name from the castle.

There have been two different parts of this building, the principal one of which used to stand below in the valley to guard the route, and on that spot is still to be seen a hole in the rock, which leads into an underground passage, through which Margaretha Maultasch, the last proprietress of the castle, used to ascend to the upper part of it on the heights above, called Neuhaus.

In this passage is said to lie a hidden treasure, guarded by a fearful keeper, who is said to be the devil himself. Many people have tried to get at this treasure, but no one has ever succeeded; and the inhabitants of the surrounding country recount that, some years ago, two young peasants of Meran had resolved upon going to take the envied treasure. On their way there, they said to one another, “To-day the devil will never escape us.” So they entered the passage, and began to repeat the incantations they had learnt by heart for the purpose, while throwing around them consecrated powders; but all at once a huge black dog rushed upon them, and they fled away, terrified to death, believing that the devil himself was at their heels; and, since that time, no one has ever again tried to discover the treasure of Maultasch.

_THE NINE-PIN GAME OF MARGARETHA MAULTASCH._

In the ruins of the castle of Maultasch are also said to lie a set of golden nine-pins which appear above the ground and blossom every hundred years. This set of nine-pins belonged to Margaretha Maultasch, whose gamekeeper “Georg” stole and buried it when his mistress ceded the Tyrol to Austria, at Botzen, in 1363. Two days after he had buried it he was struck by an apoplectic fit and died, and nobody knew anything of the treasure. Since that time he is compelled in expiation of his crime to wander about in the castle in the form of a hideous ghost and guard the hidden treasure, and at midnight he sets up the nine-pins while sighing, and throws the golden ball against the large castle gate, which then flies open with a fearful noise. Then appear all the old counts of the Tyrol and Görz, some of them with crowns on their heads, followed by Margaretha Maultasch bearing an enormously massive necklace of pure gold, and the richest diamonds. They then begin to play, and the unhappy spirit of Georg is obliged to set up the nine-pins, but the ball always bounds against his feet so painfully that his cries very often are heard over Botzen and as far as Sigmundskron.

Only he who succeeds in digging up the treasure will be the means of redeeming Georg; but as it is most difficult to find the proper way and right moment, it has almost become an impossibility.

It is not long since that, in the favourable hour, an egg-woman went up the way which leads to the castle. The poor soul of Georg took the egg basket off her head, and put it down close to the tower on the very spot where the nine-pins lay buried. All at once there was nothing in the basket but ten black coals instead of eggs. “Throw your rosary quickly upon them,” said the ghost; but unfortunately the woman had no rosary with her, and so the happy hour passed by again without being taken advantage of. The ten coals which were to be changed into the nine-pins and ball, became again ordinary eggs, and only in another hundred years will this fortunate hour return again.

The ghost climbed up the highest tower rock, crying and sighing his ordinary lamentations:--

“He who will redeem me From the power of the Evil One, Must in the castle’s grounds Find nine-pins and ball Which I stole from the Princess, Which I hid from the Princess.”[9]

[9] “Wer mich will erlösen Von dem Bann des Bösen, Muss in Schlosses Gründen Neun Kegel und Kugel finden, Die hab’ ich der Fürstin gestohlen, Die hab’ ich der Fürstin verhohlen.”

_THE DEVIL’S HOLE ON THE KUNTERSWEG._

The ill-famed Kuntersweg is a narrow dangerous cart-way winding through a deep valley, overtopped on both sides by huge and lofty mountains, and ending in the post route from Innsbruck to Botzen.

Soon after leaving this route and entering into the aforesaid track, the traveller arrives at a spot where the valley is more narrow than elsewhere, and there he beholds high above him a hole pierced through a bare rock which is known under the name of “Teufelsloch,” or devil’s hole. Beneath this hole are hanging several crucifixes and statues of saints in remembrance of the many accidents which have taken place on that spot--perhaps, also, as a consolation to the friends of the lost ones and an exhortation to prayer.

One day a carter drove by that spot, and as the weather happened to be very bad and the road swampy and soft from the long rain, the wheels of his cart stuck fast in the ground. It was in vain that he whipped his horses and tried all means in his power to get out of the mud. In this desperate position he summoned the devil to his assistance, using the most fearful oaths, and, lo! all at once there appeared before him a gentleman clad in rich green clothes, with high boots, and offered his services. The carter, who at first was almost terrified at this unexpected apparition, said at last, “Well, I accept your offer.”

“But not for nothing,” answered the stranger. “I shall help you only under the condition that you will give me a piece of your body.” To which, after a short reflection, the carter agreed.

The green stranger had scarcely muttered a few incomprehensible words between his teeth when the cart moved by some invisible power from the spot, and when directly afterwards the carter was asked for the promised reward, he cut off a piece of his long finger nails and handed it over to his deliverer. Thus cheated, the devil full of wrath changed his form and, as a monstrous fiery lizard hissing with savage anger, and enveloped in sheets of lightning, and with roars of thunder, rushed through the bare rock above, so that all the mountains round about shook. And this hole has ever since been called the Teufelsloch.

It is no doubt for the purpose of expelling from this spot all diabolical effects, that in course of time those pious images have been set up at the foot of the rock; and most probably the road received from the hellish “Kunter,” or apparition, which the carter met there, the name of “Kuntersweg.”

_THE SUNKEN CASTLE IN THE BIBURG-SEE._

About two miles above the village of Oetz in the Oetzthal, in the middle mountains which cross over the valley like a wall, stands the peak called “Biburgspitz,” at the foot of which lies the little lake of “Biburg-See.” On the spot where now the See lies, used to stand the magnificent castle of Biburg, which covered an immense expanse of ground, and it was in former times the scene of the greatest festivities, for a very beautiful and rich lady used to be its mistress; yet it is sad to relate that she was a very wicked woman and guilty of all sorts of crimes.

She had but one child, whom, like Frau Hütt, she spoiled in every point; she cleaned it, too, with new bread and cake crumbs, because they were softer than sponges. One day a venerable hermit who had been sent to warn the proprietress, arrived in the castle and paternally exhorted her to give up her evil ways; but in spite of him she carried on her wicked practices more than ever, so that the hermit went away in despair. He had scarcely left the castle when it sank, together with its mistress and her son, into the earth, and a calm See filled up its place.

But a short time afterwards the lake began to bubble and boil, and the guilty mistress of the castle rose out of it in the form of a fearful dragon, or “Lindwurm,” which in its fury bit and tore at the banks of the See for the purpose of making an outlet for the water. This outlet forms the little river which runs through the fields belonging to the parishes of Oetz and Sauters; and the Tyrolians still say of little rivers that come out of the mountains: “Here a Lindwurm has bored its way through.”

_THE WITCHES’ WALK ON THE KREUZJOCH._

Near the village of Mieders, in the Stubaythal, lies a little side valley, in which in dreary solitude stands a small wooden hut opposite to an old, half-ruinous farm-building. In this hut there lived, some fifty years ago, a wicked woman, called Töglas Moid, who was originally married to an honest peasant of the neighbourhood, who, however, died soon after through grief at the bad practices of his wife. After his death she led a yet worse life, and was in consequence everywhere dreaded as a witch; for she was known to have done, and to still do, endless harm among the cows. She had chosen five other women of her feather to be her companions and helpmates, and often the whole six of them set out from Mieders to the Telfes mountain, where at certain times they have been seen by the herdsmen carrying on their unholy Sabbath.

At last it seems that they went to such an extent that they entered into a compact with the Evil One, and then the destruction which they caused in the surrounding country was so great that the villagers were forced to apply for the aid of the Church, according to whose decree they had to appear before the tribunal, where the five companions of Töglas Moid confessed everything, and from that time began to lead a new life; while she who had led them on in all their wickedness became worse and worse every day, and carried on her diabolical practices alone during yet another five long years, until at last the measure of her iniquities was full.

On the 24th of June, 1823, St. John the Baptist’s Day, a fearful thunderstorm broke over Mieders, during which the mountains were splintered with the lightning, and huge masses of rock fell down from every direction into the valley.

On the following morning some peasants passing by the hut of Töglas Moid, looked in to discover if the witch was there; but she was nowhere to be seen. But close by the Witches’ Walk the most fearful screams were heard, which so terrified both man and beast that one of the herdsmen ran down to the village for help; for the cows were panic-stricken and beyond their control. When the terrified herdsmen arrived with a crowd of villagers upon the witches’ ground, they found her cut into pieces, which they collected and burnt upon a pile of brushwood; and during this operation such fearful noises were heard in the valley and on the surrounding mountains that every one was seized with fear and trembling.

The parish of Mieders erected in gratitude for the riddance of this witch a large stone cross upon the Witches’ Walk, to which every year, on the 24th of June, a great procession takes place. This spot is called the “Kreuzjoch,” or cross yoke, and from it a beautiful view is obtained of the valley villages of Telfes and Stubay, and of several magnificent glaciers.

_THE TREASURES._

Treasure! This ideal of earthly happiness constantly occupies the mind of the greatest part of the inhabitants of the Tyrol; and many are the men who, once wealthy and rich, now live on the alms of other people, on account of their passion for treasure-seeking. Over this hopeless infatuation they neglected their domestic occupation, and all at once, almost without knowing it, stood on the verge of beggary, at which they were just as much surprised as at having been unable to discover the envied object of their search.

There are treasures in all parts of the country, on the mountains, in the valleys, under rocks and trees, in the lakes, in the cellars, even beneath the hearths, and behind the walls. The ruins of once powerful strongholds generally conceal treasure in different forms, and there is not one ruin in the whole Tyrol that possesses not its treasure tradition.

Those treasures blossom from time to time, especially on the eve of St. John the Baptist’s Day. Near Axams, in the middle mountains, above Innsbruck, on the spot called Zum Knappenloch, a treasure blossoms even in the broad daylight.

The blooming light of these treasures is described to be blue, like the flame of spirits of wine, or green, like the light of glow-worms, and also yellowish-green, like that of phosphorus.

The preceding legends already contain several examples of these treasure-blossoms, and it would be impossible to relate them all, for their number would fill a volume. But not very long ago a fact took place on the post-route from Imst to Landeck, close by the hamlet of Starkenbach, after which it would be utterly impossible to make the inhabitants of the surrounding country believe that the treasures do not blossom.

On this spot several people had noticed, at different times, a green light, which lasted from two to five minutes; but when they approached, it dissolved into mist and disappeared.

Some men of Starkenbach happened to be at work on the very same spot, on the 10th of October, 1854, under the supervision of the road-maker, Tschoder, when one of the men, whose name is Rundl, pulled up a piece of turf, and how joyfully surprised was he when some two hundred silver coins lay at his feet, most of them well-preserved Roman coins of the times of the Emperors, and bearing the inscriptions of Antonius Pius, Septimus Severus, Marcus Aurelius, Geta, Caracalla, Maximinus Augustus; others referred to the Empresses, and bore the inscriptions of Faustina Augusta, Julia Augusta. The inscriptions on the reverse of the coins are almost every one of them different, and relate to notable events of the Roman dynasty in the country, thus, Marti Victori, Fortunæ Reduci, Felicitas, Providentia, Venus Genetrix, and many of them relate to Juno. The coins are all of the same size, and five of them go to an ounce.

“Such treasures,” declare the simple-minded Tyrolians, “are lying in thousands all over the country, if it were only possible to lay hands upon them, as on those Roman coins.”

_WOLKENSTEIN._

In the Grödener-Thal lie dispersed in every direction about 135 farms, which form the parish of Wolkenstein, also called Santa Maria, and above its pretty little chapel, on the top of the peak of Sabbiakopf, rise the ruins of the once famous stronghold of Wolkenstein, which is said to have been built in the time of the Romans by a pagan general, who through his wild and cruel behaviour became the scourge of the inhabitants of all the surrounding valleys.

One day a poor pilgrim went to the castle, asking for charity, but the general ill-treated him so cruelly that he died, and in his last agony the pilgrim cursed the castle, and invoked upon it immediate destruction. Directly afterwards a huge mass of rock fell and buried it, together with its tyrannical lord, who was not less dreaded than the fearful Orco, whose abode lay in this country.

Some centuries later on, a wandering knight arrived in the neighbourhood, seeking treasures in the ruins of the castle; and it is generally believed that his search was successful, because before then he was very poor, and now he began to build a magnificent castle upon the old ruins, and called it also Wolkenstein. Every future proprietor took the name of the castle, together with the title of Count, and up to the present day the family are a wealthy, powerful, and extended race. One of their ancestors was the celebrated Minnesinger, Oswald von Wolkenstein, who lived in the days of “Frederick with the empty pocket.”

Later on the castle was struck by lightning, and one of the Counts built a new castle in the valley below, and gave it the name of Fischburg; and the old castle of Wolkenstein has since tumbled into decay, but its magnificent and imposing ruins are still to be seen.

_THE GHOSTS OF THE CASTLE OF VÖLLENBERG._

Above the village of Götzens, on the route to Arams, are to be seen the ruins of two towers, once belonging to a castle of vast importance, and which are called Völlenberg and Liebenberg. Two noble races used formerly to reside in this castle, which has quite disappeared, with the exception of the towers above named; it is from these families that the towers derived their names. The celebrated Minnesinger Oswald von Wolkenstein, of whom we have already spoken in the preceding legend, was for a long time prisoner at Völlenberg.

The legend goes that the spirits of the former inhabitants are still wandering about in those two towers; at certain times at midnight the ruins become alive, and lords and ladies, in long sweeping dresses, followed by liveried servants of the olden style, pass up and down the ruinous stone staircases. Their heads are empty skulls, and they sit down in the great castle hall, where they try in vain to drink out of large goblets; being, however, unable to taste the beautiful wine with which they are brimming over, they dash the goblets against the walls and smash them into fragments.

So it happens also with their unholy feast, which is laid out most temptingly before them on the tables; for as one of them approaches the dish upon which he has set his mind, it falls to the ground as dust and ashes. Then the wretched spirits endeavour to enjoy themselves with singing and dancing; but their bones rattle so terribly, and their companions are so frozen and stiff, that their song becomes a Miserere.

This is their punishment for all their former intemperance and evil-doings, and this terrible scene is only brought to a close by the ringing of the morning Angelus.

_THE FRÄULEIN VON MARETSCH._

At midnight there is often to be seen in the old castle of Maretsch the spirit of a young lady, who wanders about, crying and wringing her hands, as though in the most terrible grief. Her long soft hair is blown wildly about by the wind, her beautiful face is deadly pale, and her eyes are fixed and staring. This is Fräulein von Maretsch, the only daughter of the Baron von Maretsch, and once noted as the most beautiful girl of the whole country.

Although scarcely sixteen years of age, she was passionately enamoured of the young and brave Baron von Treuenstein, who under Frederick the Red Beard, together with all the Tyrolian nobility, took part in his crusade, for the purpose of gaining the glory of knighthood in fighting against the infidels, which, according to the promise of the old Baron von Maretsch, should entitle him to his beautiful daughter for a wife.

Two years had already gone by since the hopeful young warrior had left the country, after having received the blessing of the old Baron, when one day a pilgrim from Palestine craved admission to the castle, and recounted the bloody battles of the Crusaders against the Saracens. In the course of his narrative he came to speak of the young Baron von Treuenstein, and said that he had conquered large districts, and at last had married the daughter of a rich Pacha, and thus made himself happy for ever.

On hearing this, Kunigunde turned deadly pale, and sank swooning to the ground; her attendants carried her senseless to her room, for the news of this dreadful infidelity had broken her heart.

Directly the young lady had left the room, the pilgrim sprang joyfully up, pressed the old Baron to his heart, threw away his pilgrim’s garb, and in bright armour appeared before him as the Baron von Treuenstein, who had masked himself in this manner to prove the fidelity of his bride. “Let us now quickly go to my dear Kunigunde,” said he to the father, “to dispel the grief and pain which I have caused her;” and with high beating hearts they crossed the corridor which led into the young lady’s room.

But the room was empty, and the window open; and as they looked down into the ditch which surrounded the castle, they saw the unfortunate girl lying smashed and blood-covered in the depth below. The untimely grief had caused her to lose her senses, and in this condition she sprang into the arms of death.

At that sight the young Baron became speechless. He rushed away to the battle-field, and nobody ever heard of him again, while the poor old father died soon afterwards of grief; and since that time the spirit of the unhappy girl is condemned to wander about in the ruins of the ancient castle of Maretsch.

THE END.

PRINTED BY TAYLOR AND CO., LITTLE QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN’S INN FIELDS.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

This text has been preserved as in the original, including archaic and inconsistent spelling, punctuation and grammar, except as noted below.

Obvious printer’s errors have been silently corrected.

Text in italics in the original work is represented herein as _text_.

Small capitals in the original work are represented herein as all capitals.

Footnotes have been renumbered and then moved to directly below the paragraphs to which they belong.

Page 29: There were several characters not printed at “answered the poor spirit [of th]e priest” and are shown here within the brackets.

End of Project Gutenberg's Tales and Legends of the Tyrol, by A. von Günther