CHAPTER XII.

WÄLSCH-TIROL.

VAL SUGANA.--GIUDICARIA.--FOLKLORE.

Legends are echoes of the great child-voices from the primitive world; so rich and sweet that their sound is gone out into all lands.

Val Sugana is watered by the Brenta through its whole course, running nearly direct east from Trent. It is reached by the Adler Thor, and over the handsome bridge of S. Ludovico, through luxuriant plantations of mulberries and vines, and with many a summer villa on either hand. The road leads (at a considerable and toilsome distance) to the low range of hills (in Tirol called a Sonnenberg) of Baselga, locally named Pinè, whose sides are studded with a number of villages and groups of houses. In one of these, Verda or Guarda by name, near the village of Montanaga, is the most celebrated pilgrimage of the Trentino--the Madonna di Pinè, also known as the Madonna di Caravaggio. It was the year 1729; a peasant girl, Domenika Targa, native of Verda, who was noted by all her neighbours for the angelic holiness of her life, had lost some of her herd upon the mountain one hot August day; in her distress, she knelt down to ask for help to bring back her charge faithfully. Suddenly the place was bathed in a light of glory, and before her stood a lady so benign and glorious, she could be none other than the Himmelskönigin. 'Go, my child, and tell them that you have seen me here, and that I have chosen this spot for my delight; and that their prayers will be heard which they offer before the picture of the Madonna di Caravaggio.' The light faded away, and Domenika turned to seek her flock. She found them all in order, waiting for her to drive them home. There was considerable discussion after this as to what 'Madonna di Caravaggio' might mean; and it was at last decided that it could mean nothing but the picture of the Madonna by Caldara, surnamed Caravaggio from his birthplace, venerated at Milan. Domenika could not leave her herds to go to Milan, and she was perplexed how to obey the vision. In her simple faith she addressed her prayer on high for further direction, and once more the heavenly sight was vouchsafed to her, and it was explained that the Madonnabild meant was not that of Milan, but the one in the little field-chapel of S. Anna, near Montanaga. Domenika did not fail to go there the next festival on which it was open, the Ascension Day, which was, that year, May 26. Above the faint light of the tapers tempered by the incense clouds, and amid the chanted litanies of the choir, the fair Queen once more appeared to her in garments of gold, and surrounded by a glittering train of attendants. Some months passed, and though the people had wondered at the marvel, nothing had been done to commemorate it; Domenika was kneeling, on September 8, the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, in the Chapel of S. Anna. A sound of soft chanting broke on her ear, which she thought must be the procession of the parish coming up the hill to pray for rain. But as it grew nearer, the same heavenly radiance overspread the place, and once more she saw the Virgin Mother; but this time she looked stern, for the great favour of her visit had been overlooked, and she reasoned with Domenika on the ingratitude it betokened. Domenika honestly outspoke her inward cogitations on the subject--what could a poor cattle-herd do? It was given her to understand that much might be done even by such a poor peasant, if she exercised energy and devotion. With new strength and determination, she girt herself for the task of building a shrine over the spot so dear to her. At first she met with great ridicule and scorn, but she pursued her way so steadily and so humbly, that all were won to share her convictions. Offerings for the work began to flow in. Those who had no money gave their corn, or their grapes, their ornaments, and their very clothes. Year by year the new church rose, according as she could collect the means; and at last, on May 26, 1751, she had the consolation of seeing the complete edifice consecrated. It is a neat cruciform building, sixty-three feet long and fifty-three feet wide, with three marble altars, on one of which is a copy of the Madonna di Caravaggio of Milan painted by Jakob Moser after he had made three pilgrimages to the original. I was not able to ascertain what was supposed to have been intended in the first instance by calling the old picture in S. Anna's field-chapel the Madonna di Caravaggio. Possibly the little Milanese town, which has given two painters to fame, had produced some 'mute inglorious' 'Caravaggio,' who painted the earlier picture. The commemoration of Domenika's vision is celebrated every year in Val Pinè by pilgrimages on May 26 when the most striking gatherings of Tirolese costume are to be observed there.

Pergine is the first large village on returning into the main valley, about six miles from Trent. It well deserves to be better known: the neighbourhood is of great beauty, and the form of the surrounding heights is well likened by the inhabitants to a theatre. The church, built in 1500-45, is spacious and handsome, adorned in the interior with red marble columns. In the churchyard are the remains of the older church, where every Lent German sermons are still preached for the benefit of the scattered German population, whose name for the place is Persen. The German and Italian elements within the village are blended with tolerable amity. From the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries, silver, copper, lead, and iron, were got out in the neighbouring Fersinathal; and though the works are now nearly given up, the Knappen then formed an important portion of the community. They cast the bell as an offering to the church when building, and it is still called the Knappinn--by the Italians canòppa. The chief industry now is silk-spinning. The greatest ornament of the place is the Schloss of the Bishop of Trent, which is well kept up, and from the roof of which an incomparable view is obtained. Among the peculiar customs of the place those concerning marriages deserve to be recorded, as they tend to show the character of the people. Two young men of the bridegroom's friends are selected for the office of Brumoli so called; they have to carry, the one a barn-door fowl, the other a spinning-wheel, before the bride as she goes to and from church, to remind her of her household duties. After the wedding, as she returns with her husband to his house the door is suddenly closed as she approaches, and there is then carried on a dialogue, according to an established form, between her and her husband's mother--the latter requiring, and the former undertaking, that she will prove herself God-fearing and domesticated; that she will be faithful and devoted to her husband, and live in charity with all his family. The little ceremony complete, the mother-in-law throws wide the door, and receives her with open arms.

On the south side of the valley, opposite Pergine, is the clear lake of Caldonazzo, whose waters reflect the bright green chestnut woods around it; it is the source of the Brenta, and one of the largest lakes of Tirol; about three miles long, and half as broad. Count Welfersheim, an Austrian general, and his adjutant, were drowned in attempting to walk over the thin ice on it in March 1871. On a rugged promontory jutting into its midst stands the most ancient sanctuary of the neighbourhood, San Cristofero; once a temple to Saturn and Diana, but adopted for a Christian church by the earliest evangelizers of the valley, for which reason the produce of the soil and waters yet pays tithe to the presbytery of Pergine. Other villages add to the surrounding beauties of the lake, particularly Campolongo, with its church of St. Teresa high above the green waters, and the church and hermitage of San Valentin; the latter is now used for a roccolo, or vogeltennen, by which numbers of birds of passage are caught on their migrations. The land is very poor. To eke out their living, most of the male inhabitants of the villages around are wont to go out every winter as pedlars, with various small articles manufactured in the valley, and with which they are readily trusted by those who stay behind. On their return, which is always at Easter, they distribute honourably what they have earned for each, deducting a small commission. So straightforward and honourable are they, that though they have little idea of keeping accounts, and the sums are generally made out with a bit of chalk on the inn table, yet it is said that such a thing as a dispute over the amounts is utterly unknown. The church of St. Hermes, at Calzeranica, is reckoned the most ancient of the whole neighbourhood; remains of an ancient temple, thought to have been to Diana of Antioch, have been found when repairing it. In the forest behind Bosentino, a neighbouring village, is a pilgrimage chapel called Nossa Signora del feles; die h. Jungfrau vom Farrenkraut--St. Mary of the Fern. Some two hundred years ago, Gianisello, a little dumb boy of Bosentino, who was minding his father's herd in the forest, was visited by a bright lady, who pointed to a tuft of fern growing under a chestnut tree, and bid him go and tell the village people she would have them built a chapel there. When the people heard the boy tell his story, who for all the twelve years of his life had never spoken a word before, they felt no doubt it was the Blessed Virgin he had seen. The chapel was soon built, and furnished with a painting embodying the little boy's story. In time of dearth, drought, epidemic, or other local calamity, many are the processions which may yet be seen wending their prayerful way to the chapel of St. Mary of the Fern.

Among the wild and beautiful legends of this part of the valley is a variant of one familiar in every land. A young swain, the maiden of whose choice was called to an early grave, went wandering through the chestnut groves calling for his beloved, till he grew weary with crying, and laid him down in a cave to rest. A sweet sleep visited him, and he found himself in it at home as of old in the Valle del Orco, [208] with his Filomena on his arm; he led her to the village church, and the silver-haired pastor gave the marriage blessing, while all the village prayed around. He brought Filomena home to his old house, alle Settepergole, [209] his dear old father and mother welcomed her, and she brought sunshine into the cottage; and when they were called away the old walls were yet not without life and joy, for it resounded to the voice of the prattling little ones. The little ones grew up into stalwart lads and lasses, who earned homesteads of their own, and erewhile brought another tribe of prattling little ones to his knee; while Filomena smiled a bright sunshine over all, and they were so happy they prayed it might never end: but one day it seemed that the sunshine of Filomena's smile was not felt, for she was no longer there; then all grew pale and cold, and with a sudden chill he woke. It was grey morning as he rose from the cave; the cattle were lowing as they were led out to pasture; he looked out towards the chestnut groves, and watched in their waving foliage the strange effect which had been the charm of his childhood, looking like rippled ocean pouring abroad its flood. [210] But when he reached the village the sights and sounds were no more so familiar: the old church tower was capped with a steeple, of which he never saw the like; the folk he met by the way were all strangers, and stared at him as at one who comes from far. He wandered up and down all the day, and everything was yet strange. At evening the men came back from the fields, and again they gazed at him estranged: once he made bold to ask them for 'Zansusa,' the companion of his boyhood, but they shrugged their shoulders with a 'Chè Zansusa?' and passed on. He asked again for 'Piero,' almost as dear a friend, and they pointed to a 'Piero' with not one feature like his Peter. Once again he asked for 'Franceschi,' and they pointed to a grave, where his name was written indeed--'Franceschi,' who but the day before had walked with him in full life and health, to hang a fresh wreath on Filomena's cross! Ah! there was Filomena's cross, but how changed was that too! the bright gilding, on which his savings had been so willingly lavished, was tarnished and weather-worn, and not a leaf of his garland remained round it. He wandered no further, nor sought to fathom the mystery more; he knelt on the only spot of earth that had any charm for him. As his knees touched the hallowed soil consoling thoughts of her undying affection overflowed him. 'Here we are united again,' he said; 'in a little while we shall be united for ever.' 'At last have I found thee! these fifty years I have sought thee in vain!' The moonbeam kissed his forehead as he looked up, and the moonbeam bore her who had spoken. A fair form she wore, but still it was not the form of Filomena. 'Who are you, and wherefore sought you me?' he asked. 'I am Death,' replied the pale maiden, 'and for fifty years I have sought thee to lead thee to Filomena.' She beckoned as she spoke, and willingly he followed her whither the moonbeam led.

The village of Caldonazzo, with its ancient castle, is another ornament of the lake. Further south is the village of Lavarone, or Lafraun, accessible only to the pedestrian. A house close to the edge of a little lake here is pointed out, which in olden time was the residence of two brothers, the owners of the meadow over which the lake is now spread. These two could never agree; their strife grew from day to day, till at last one night they called each other out to settle their quarrels once for all by mortal combat. The noise of the strife within had made them oblivious to the strife of the elements which was waging without. The gust which entered as the eldest turned to open the cottage door, and the blinding rain, drove them back; even their fierce passions seemed mastered by the fiercer fury without. In silence they returned into the room, and neither cared to raise his voice amid the angry voices of the storm, which now made themselves heard solemnly indeed. In sullen silence they passed the night, and during the silence there was time for reflection; each would have been glad to have backed out of the promised fight, but neither had the courage to propose a reconciliation. Sullenly they rose with the morning light; the pale gold rays rested on the trees, now calm and tranquil, and both shuddered to carry their vengeance out on to the fair scene; but neither dared speak, and once more the eldest opened the door. This time it was not the rain descending from above which drove him back; it was the flood rising from beneath! The Centa torrent had overflowed. The disputed meadow had become a lake, and with their united efforts they scarcely kept the waters banked out. The community of labour, of danger, and of distress, ended the strife; and though their worldly possessions were lost to them for ever, they had found a greater boon, the bond of fraternal charity.

I must pass over Levico, near which the Brenta has its source, and the intervening villages; but Borgo di Val Sugan' demands our attention for its beautiful situation. The view over both may be enjoyed by mountain climbers from the neighbouring height of Vezzena. Borgo is commonly called the Italian Meran, for its likeness with that favourite watering-place. Its buildings extend over both sides of the Brenta, being united by a massive stone bridge, built in 1498. Those on the left bank were nearly destroyed by fire in 1862, but the rebuilding has been carried on with great spirit. Its ecclesiastical buildings do not date far back; the rebuilding of the parish church in 1727 nearly obliterated all traces of the earlier edifice; its chief glories are three paintings it possesses, one by Titian's brother, one by Karl Loth, and one by Rothmayr. The fine campanile was added in 1760. There is also a Franciscan convent, but it does not date back further than 1603, there is the following curious tradition of its origin.

The Sellathal leading to Sette Comuni, is narrowed by two mighty cliffs--the Rochetta on the south, and the Grolina on the north, adorned with the ruined Castel San Pietro, [211] seemingly perched above all human reach. On a green knoll beneath it stand the lordly remains of Castel Telvana; its frescoes are now nearly faded away, only a room here and there is habitable; but its enduring walls and towers show of what strength it was in the days long gone by--days such as those in which Anna, wife of Siccone di Caldonazzo, defended it with so much spirit against all the might of Friedrich mit der leeren Tasche, that she obtained the right to an honourable capitulation. It was bought by the Counts of Welsburg in 1465, and henceforth it became an abode of pleasure rather than a mere fortress. Count Sigmund von Welsburg, who was its master towards the end of the sixteenth century, was particularly disposed to make his residence in their midst a boon to the inhabitants of Borgo, and entered heartily into all the pastimes of the people. It happened thus that the Carneval procession of the year 1598 was invited to take the Castel Telvana for its bourne; and that the women might not be fatigued by the ascent, the Count gallantly provided them all with horses from his own stud. The valley resounded with merriment as they wended their way up in their varied and fantastic attire. Arrived at the castle, good cheer was provided, which none were slow to turn to account, and the return was commenced in no less boisterous humour. At the most precarious spot of the giddy declivity, the courage of the foremost rider forsook her; the Count's high-couraged charger, which she bestrode, perceiving the slackened pressure on the rein, grew nervous and bewildered too, and uneasy to find himself for the first time subjected to devious guidance. The indecision of the first fair cavalier alarmed her sister, who followed next behind--a shriek was the expression of the alarm, which communicated itself to the next rider, and in a moment a panic had possessed the whole cavalcade, or nearly the whole; for the few who here and there still retained their presence of mind were powerless to make those before them advance, or to keep back the threatening tramp of those behind. The Count saw the danger, and the one remedy. First registering a vow, that if he succeeded in his daring enterprise he would build a convent to the honour of God and St. Francis, he set out along the brink of the narrow track, where there was scarce a foot-breadth between him and the abyss, past the whole file of the snorting horses and their terrified burdens. He had this in his favour, that every denizen of his stable recognised him as he went by, and his presence soothed their chafing. Arrived at last safely at the head of the leading steed, his hand on its mane was enough to restore its confidence; securely he led it to the full end of the dangerous pass, and all the others followed in docile order behind. The Count did not forget his vow, nor would he in his gratitude allow any other hand to diminish the outlay he had undertaken. The convent buildings are now in part turned to secular uses, though part is also used for a hospital, where all the sick of the town are freely tended. In the church is an altarpiece of Lazarus begging at the gate of Dives, by Lorenzo Fiorentini, a native artist.

The pass I have mentioned between the Rochetta and the Grolina--the importance of which as a defence was not unknown to the Romans, of whose remains the town possesses a considerable collection dug up at different times--was not without its share of work in the French invasions of 1796 and 1809. In the former, a handful of Tirolese successfully repulsed five hundred of the enemy in an obstinate encounter of three hours' duration. In the latter, the place was attacked by tenfold greater numbers. General Ruska was so infuriated, not only by their determined and galling fire, but by the derisive shouts and gestures of the mountaineers, who carried their daring so far as to fling the dead bodies of the soldiers they had killed down under the wheels of his carriage, that he ordered the pillage and destruction of the town. His guns were ready planted to pour out their murderous fire, when the parish priest, heading a procession of aged house-fathers, came to implore him to spare their homes. At the same moment news was brought him that two Austrian battalions were advancing with dangerous haste. One or other of the considerations thus urged effected the deliverance of the town, which was only required to buy itself off at the price of a large supply of provisions.

Borgo has further advantage of the mineral spring of Zaberle, and a creditable theatre. Silk-spinning is again the chief industry of the place; and there are several so-called Filatoriums, employing a great number of hands. The most remarkable excursions in the neighbourhood are to the deserted hermitage of San Lorenzo and the stalactite caves of Costalta, both in the Sellathal, whence there is a path leading to the curiously primitive and typically upright community of the Sette Comuni.

Pursuing the valley further in its easterly course, I must not omit to mention Castelalto, not only remarkable for its share in the mediæval history of Tirol, but for being still well kept up. At Strigno, one of the largest hamlets of the valley, is another ancient castle, which after its abandonment in the fourteenth century acquired the name of Castelrotto. The parish church, rebuilt in 1827, contains a Madonna del Rosario by Domenichino; and a Mater Dolorosa in Carrara marble, by the Venetian sculptor Melchiori. This is the generally adopted starting-place for the Cima d'Asta, the highest peak of the Trentino (8,561 feet), and commanding a panorama of exceptional magnificence. Under favourable circumstances it is reached within thirty hours, sleeping in the open at Quarazza. The interest of the way is heightened by two considerable lakes; the lower, that of Quarazza, closed in by wall-like cliffs, is fed by a cascade from the higher lake, which receives several torrents. Near the summit is a garnet quarry. Just below Strigno is another inhabited castle, that of Ivano, belonging to the Count of Wolkenstein-Trostburg, who makes it a summer residence. The church is dedicated to S. Vindemian; near it was once a hermitage. Further down the valley is Ospedaletto, famous in border warfare, and once a hospice for travellers, served by monks, still a mountain-inn with a chapel attached. Grigno has another once-important castle. S. Udalric, Bishop of Augsburg, had occasion to pass through the village on his way to Rome in the time of Pope Sergius III. (A.D. 904-11), and left behind him so profound an impression of his sanctity, that the devotion of the people to his memory has never diminished. In the eleventh century a chapel was built in his honour, with the picturesque instinct of the people of that date, on the steep way leading to Castel Tesino. It was always kept in good condition till 1809, when it was desecrated by the French soldiery. It was restored within ten years, and a rustic piazza in front planted with lime trees, which have at the present time attained considerable dimensions. In July 1869, processions consisting of more than four thousand villagers met at this shrine, to pray for deliverance from the heavy rains, which were causing the inundation of their homesteads.

From Grigno there is a path which few persons however will be tempted to follow, across the so-called Canal San Bovo, to Primiero, a country which has already been so ably laid open to the tourist that I need not attempt a fresh description of its beauties. If any one penetrates its recesses as far as the village of Canal San Bovo, I think they will not be sorry to have been advised to ask for a certain Virginia Loss, who has a touching story to tell them of her adventures. On a stormy day, the last of October 1869, she was making her way, though only thirteen, with her mother and another woman, along the dangerous path leading hither from the Fleimserthal, following their occupation of carriers. They had passed Panchià and Ziano, and were in the midst of the verdant tract known as the Sadole. The fierce wind that blew exhausted her poor mother's strength, and she saw no help but to lay down her burden by the way, and try to reach home with bare life. Domenica Orsingher, the other woman, however, who had already got on a good way beyond her, no sooner learned what she had done than, considering what a loss it must be to her, with a humble heroism went back to fetch the pack intending to carry it in addition to her own! The next day some men travelling by the same path found her body extended by the wayside. She had died of cold and exhaustion.

The land is strong with such as these, Her heroes' destined mothers.

Further along they found Elisabetta Loss and her daughter huddled together. On carrying the bodies to Cauria they succeeded in reviving only the child. Virginia has a tragic story to tell of; of how her mother sank to her rest, and her own unavailing and inexperienced efforts to call her to life; then the horror of the approaching night, the snow storm in which she expected to be covered up and lost to sight, yet had not strength to move away; and, worst of all, the circling flight of crows and ravens which she spent her last energies in driving with her handkerchief from her mother's face; and yet the presence of death, solitude and helplessness, made the approach of even those rapacious and ill-omened companions seem almost less unwelcome. The insensibility which ensued was probably the most welcome visitant of all.

Le Tezze is a smaller village than Grigno, but one that has done good service to the patriotic cause, having many a time stayed the advance of invading hosts; and never more successfully than in the latest Garibaldian attempt on the Trentino, upon the cession of Venice by Austria after Sadowa. The tombs of the bold mountaineers who fell while driving back the tenfold numbers opposed to them are to be seen appropriately ranged along the stony declivity they defended so well. These graves are yearly visited by their brethren on the 14th of August.

They fell devoted and undying, The very gale their deeds seems sighing; The waters murmur forth their name, The woods are peopled with their fame, The silent pillar, lone and gray, Claims kindred with their sacred clay.

Le Tezze is the last Tirolean village of the valley, and the seat of the Austrian custom-house against Italy. On the other side of this frontier is the interesting Italian town of Primolano, whence there is an easier way into Primiero-thal than by crossing the Canal San Bovo. Val Sugana retains more of the German element than any other district of Wälsch-Tirol.

Judicarien or Giudicaria bifurcates westwards and south-westwards from the Etschthal opposite Val Sugana. Its first (south-west) division is called the Sarcathal and reaches to the Lago di Garda. Though no part of the beautiful Italian lake actually belongs to Tirol the town of Riva overlooks it; the country round is most productive in wine, silk, lemons, figs, and other fruits. Its pleasant climate, the warmest in all Tirol, is due not only to its southern latitude, but also to its being the lowest land of the principality. Innsbruck is 1,820 feet above the sea-level, Riva but 220. From the western division of Giudicaria there branch out northwards Val Rendena, north-westwards Val Breguzzo and Val Daone, and southwards Val Bona. The Val di Ledro or Lederthal, forms a parallel return towards the Garda-See. Here an attempt at invasion headed by Garibaldi was repulsed by the Innsbruck Student-brigade in 1866 at a pass called Bezzecca.

Giudicaria is little explored yet it contains some choice scenery and traditions. Castel Madruzz, which can be visited from Trent, is one of its most ancient and important castles. From the twelfth to the seventeenth century, the family which inhabited it and bore its name takes a foremost place in Tirol's history. In the church are shown the portraits of seven of the family ascribed to Titian. From 1530 to 1658 four of its members occupied the See of Trent, and were successively invested with the Cardinalitial dignity. Cardinal Karl Madruzz became the last of his house. All his kindred having died without heirs, he applied to Rome for permission to marry--a dispensation which we have seen once before accorded in favour of a Tirolese prince. Cardinal Madruzz preferred his suit successively before Urban VIII., Innocent X., and Alexander VII., and at last obtained it, coupled with the proviso that he should only marry in his own station. As this did not accord with his intentions, the favour so tardily granted was never acted on. This fine castle had fallen into sad neglect but it is being restored. From its deserted terraces a glorious view is obtained, which takes in the two lakes of Toblino to the north, and Cavedine to the south, both being fed by the same torrents. Round the Lago di Cavedine lie the flowery slopes which bear the name of Abraham's Garden. The Lake of Toblino is broken into by a picturesque promontory, bearing the castellated villa of the Prince-Bishops of Trent; though on flat ground, the round turrets at the angles with their pointed caps afford a wonderful relief to the landscape. The village is called Sta. Massenza, from the mother of S. Vigilius, who died here in the odour of sanctity, 381. Her relics were translated to Trent, 1120. At the foot of the height on which stands Schloss Madruzz is a double chapel, on the model of the Holy House of Loreto, the legend being inscribed on the walls.

At the westernmost reach of Giudicaria, the Rendenathal branches off towards Val di Sole. It was the cradle of the evangelization of Tirol, for here S. Vigilius suffered martyrdom, 405, and the valley is rife with traditions of him. He appears to have been stirred with zeal for the propagation of the faith at a very early age; and his piety and earnestness were so apparent that he was consecrated Bishop of Trent at the age of twenty. He made many conversions, and built a church to SS. Gervasius and Protasius, A.D. 375. But he was not content with establishing the faith here, and sending out missionaries hence; he would wander himself on foot through all the valleys where paganism still lurked, overturning idols and building Christian sanctuaries--more than thirty trace their origin to his work. Nowhere did he meet with so much opposition as in the Rendenathal, which was the last to accept the yoke of Christ. But he was untiring in his apostolic labours, nor could he rest while one token of a false religion remained erect. It is not to be supposed that, though he made many fervent converts, he effected all this without also exciting the opposition and fury of those whose teaching he had come to supersede. Yet though many were the snares set for him, no conspiracy against him succeeded till he had cast down the last idol. It was at Mortaso, one of the remotest villages of this secluded dell, he stood announcing the 'glad tidings' of the Gospel from the pedestal of the image he had overthrown, and the population crowded round, earnestly garnering in his words. He had left off preaching, and just raised his hands in benediction, when a body of heathen men and women, who had long determined to compass his end, rushed upon the scene from the surrounding grove, and stoned him with the fragments of the image he had overthrown. His hearers would have defended him, but he knew that his hour was come, for his work was accomplished; and forbidding all strife, he knelt down, and folding his arms on his breast meekly rendered up his spirit, while his constancy won many to the faith. His disciples reverently gathered his remains and bore them to Trent; but as soon as his murderers were aware of their intent, they set out to follow them. The Christian party, delayed by the weight of their burden, found that their pursuers were fast gaining ground. In this strait, says the legend, they called upon the rocky wall before them--

Apritevi, O sassa, Che S. Vigilio passa,

and behold before them suddenly appeared a cleft in the rock, through which they passed in safety, and which is pointed out to this day. Another narrow cleft is pointed out near Cadine, which is said to have been rent asunder at his bidding, when once, at an earlier stage of his labours, he deemed it right to flee from those who would have taken his life. The Acqua della Vela now passes through it, and a dent is shown which is said to mark the place where the saint impressed his hand on the obedient stone. It was this suggested to the bearers of the bier to make a similar appeal on behalf of his relics. It is commonly reported that in Mortaso the bread never rises properly; and they couple with it this tradition, that when the pieces of the broken idol sufficed not for all who would attack the saint, the women brought out loaves from the oven to complete the work.

The Rendenathal also preserves the memory of S. Julian, called also Sent Ugiano and San Zulian in local dialect. His legend says he lived with his parents in an outlying house. On one occasion, at the time of day when they were usually at work in the fields, he heard the sound of persons entering the house, and turned and slew them, and only found afterwards that it was his parents whose lives he had taken. [212] Struck with horror he devoted himself to a life of penance, and made a vow to live so far from the habitations of men that he should no more hear the cheerful crowing of the cock or the holy chime of the church bells. After his death the people found that angels had planted roses on his grave which bloomed in winter, and they observed that no venomous reptile ever rested on it, while earth taken from it cured their sting. So they built a chapel in his honour on the border of the little lake which bears his name, at the opening of Val Génova. Another interesting church in the same locality is that of Caresolo. Its exterior walls are adorned with frescoes bearing date 1519, and inside is an inscription recording that it was restored by the munificence of Charles Quint. At Pelugo, near Tione, where the Rendenathal branches off, he found the castle in possession of a Jew, and so indignant was he to find a once Christian fortress so occupied, that he had him immediately ejected and the place exorcised. Here, as also at Massimeno and Caderzone, all inconsiderable mountain villages, new churches were consecrated during the Bishop of Trent's visitation in August 1869, showing that the spirit of S. Vigilius had not died out. In the Pfarrkirche at Condino is a Muttergottesbild, presented in 1620 by a parishioner who averred he had seen it shed tears. Of the church of Campiglio the legend runs, that when it was building, the people being much distressed by a dearth, and their means hardly sufficing, the angels used to bring stone, wood, and other materials in the night; and one pillar is pointed out which was raised before the eyes of the builders in broad day by invisible hands. The inn here occupies a hospice built by the Templars, hence its imposing appearance. Colini, who was locally called the Hofer of Wälsch-Tirol, for his brave leadership of his countrymen in 'the year nine,' kept it till his death in 1862. At Pinzolo is a thriving glass-house, supported by Milanese capital and Venetian art and industry.

Riva, at the head of the Garda-See, is one of the most charming spots in Tirol. Its German name of Reif is not a mere corruption of the Italian name; it is an old German word, having the same signification, of a shore. The parish church is a really handsome edifice, and a great ornament to the town and neighbourhood. Outside the town is a curious octagonal church of the Immaculate Conception, built to enclose a wonder-working picture of the Blessed Virgin, by Cardinal Karl von Madruzz, who also founded a House of Friars Minor to attend to the spiritual necessities of the many pilgrims who came to visit it. The churches of S. Roch and S. Sebastian were built on occasion of visitations of the plague in 1522 and 1633. The neighbourhood supplies the whole of Tirol with twigs of olive to use in the office of Palm Sunday, and all kinds of southern produce grow on the banks of the lake. It was long considered the highest latitude at which the olive-tree would grow, but it has since been successfully cultivated as far north as Botzen. In order to gain a full enjoyment of the beautiful scenery around, the Altissimo di Nago should be ascended by all who have the courage for a six or seven hours' climb. From San Giacomo, however, where there is a poor Wirthshaus and chapel, reached in not more than two hours, the scene at sunrise is one of inconceivable beauty. Behind are ranges beyond ranges and peaks beyond peaks of lordly alps. Before you lies the blue Lago di Garda, and the vast Lombard plains studded with fair cities, amid which you will not fail to distinguish Milan, which some optical illusion brings so near that it seems it would take but an easy morning's walk to reach it.

On the way hence to Mori, at about half distance, lies Brentonico, with a new church perched picturesquely as a mediæval one on a bold scarped rock. The old parish church has a fine crypt. The Castello del Dosso Maggiore is a noble ruin. There is a bridge over a deep defile in the outskirts, called the Ponte delle strege--the Witches' Bridge--being deemed too daring for human builders. Mori, though named from its mulberry trees, is more famed for its tobacco, which is reckoned the best grown in Tirol.

Wälsch-Tirol has many traditions, customs and sayings, which differ from those of the rest of the Principality, more resembling those of Italy, and some of which it cannot be fanciful to trace back to an Etruscan connection. Some bear the impress of the Roman occupation, and all are strung together by an overpowering Germanic influence.

The most prominent group--and their special home, I am assured, clusters round the Dolomite mountains--are those concerning certain beings called 'Salvan' and 'Gannes;' and traditions about 'Orco.' A local collector of such lore, to whom I am chiefly indebted for the above fact, is inclined to identify the 'Salvan' with 'Orco;' but I think it can be shown that they are distinct ideas. Both are only ordinarily, not always malicious, but the 'Salvan' is one of a number of sprites, Orco has the dignity of being one by himself. The Salvan in some respects takes the place of the wild man of the North, and of the satyr whom I also found called in Rome 'salvatico' and 'selvaggio.' [213] 'Orco' clearly takes the place of Orcus in Italy; and that of the 'Teufel' in German legend. Yet so are the traditions of neighbouring peoples intermingled, that the Germans, not content with their own devil, have sprightly imitations of Orco in their 'Nork' and Lorg, softened in the intermediate Deutsch Tirol into Norg. [214] In Norway the same appellation is found, hardened into Nök, Neck, Nikr, [215] which seems to bring us round to our own 'Old Nick;' for in Iceland he is 'Knikur,' and, perhaps, he gave his name to Orkney. [216]

It is curious, in tracing the seemingly undoubtable connection between the Norg and Orco, to observe that though the Norg possesses almost invincible strength, and often prevails against giants, yet in stature he is always a dwarf, while Orco himself is considered a giant. But then it is the one essential characteristic of Orco which forms the link between all conceptions of him, whether men call him Orco, Nork, or Nyk, that he is a deceiver ever; a liar from the beginning; whenever he appears it is continually under some ever-changing, not-to-be-expected form, and only the wise guess what he is before it is too late. [217] Thus it happened to two young lads of Mori, who had been up the mountains to visit their sweet-hearts, and coming back, they met Orco prowling about after his manner when all good people are safe in bed asleep--this time in the form of an ass. The Mori lads, never thinking but that it was a common ass, jumped on its back. They soon found out their mistake, for Orco quickly resented their want of discrimination, and cantered off with them past an old building which had once been a prison, and skilfully chucked them both in at the window. It was some days before they contrived to crawl out again, and not till they were nearly starved.

But we have in English another affinity with 'Orco,' besides 'Old Nick;' we have seen him take the place of our 'ogre' in deed as well as in name in the Roman fairy tales, and in Italy he is also the bugbear of the nursery which we have almost literally in 'Old Bogey.' And now Mr. I. Taylor has found another affinity for him if he be justified in identifying our 'ogre' with "the Tatar word, 'ugry,' a thief." [218]

To return to Orco's place in Tirol, we find his name assumes nearly as many transliterations as his external appearance assumes changes. In Vorarlberg they have a Dorgi or Doggi (i being the frequent local abbreviation for the diminutive lein,--klein), there considered as one personation of the devil. The Doggi spreads over part of Switzerland, and overflows into Alsace as the Doggele. [219] In the zone of Tirol where the Italian and German elements of the population mingle, there is a class of mischievous irrepressible elfs called Orgen; soft, and round, and small, like cats without head or feet, who establish themselves in any part of a house performing all sorts of annoyances, but who are as afraid of egg-shells as the Norgs in other parts are said to be. Their chief home is in the Martelthal, south of Schlanders in the Vintschgau, and their name is devoted to the brightly shining peak seen from it--the Orgelspitz. In the Passeyer, on the north side of the Vintschgau, they go by the name of Oerkelen.

Since we have seen him, too, divested of his 'r' in Doggi from Vorarlberg to Alsace, and the Germans have already given him an L in Lorg, he assumes a mysterious likeness to Loki himself, and as a sample of how elastic is language, and how misleading are mere sounds, though for no other purpose, it might be said, we had found in this Doggi a relation of the dog who guards the entrance to the regions of Orcus!

The Salvan and Gannes, as described by the local observer above alluded to, seem to partake very much of the character of the good and evil genii of the Etruscans, though the traditions that remain of them refer almost exclusively to their action on this side the grave. 'Their Etruscan appellation,' says Mr. Dennis, 'is not yet discovered;' [220] when it is, it will be very satisfactory if it has any analogy with 'Gannes.' [221] The Gannes were gentle, beauteous, beneficent beings, delighting in being helpful to those they took under their protection; harmful to none. The Salvans were hideous, wild, and fierce, delighting in mischief and destruction, with fiery serpents for their chief companions. They seem to have done all the mischief they could as long as their sway lasted, but they were scared by advancing civilization; and I have a ludicrous description of how they stood gazing down in stupid wonderment from their Dolomite peaks, when the first ploughs were brought into use in the valleys.

Schneller, who with all his appreciation of Wälsch-Tirol, looks at its traditions too much through German spectacles, gives us some little account of these beings too. [222]

He has also a 'Salvanel,' who seems a male counterpart of his Gannes, helpful and soft-natured, with no vice save a tendency to steal milk. In return he teaches mankind to make butter and cheese, and other useful arts, and is specially kind to little children; his name bears some relation with the local word for the 'Jack-'o-lantern' reflection from glass or water. But he found also the 'Salvan' in his pernicious character under the names of 'Bedelmon,' 'Bildermon,' and 'Salvadegh.' But the most pernicious spirit that came in his way was the 'Beatrik,' who is an unmitigated fury, [223] and the natural enemy and antagonist of a gentle, helpful, beauteous spirit called Angane, Eguane, and Enguane, but possessed with his German ideas, he saw in the being so designated nothing but 'a witch, or perhaps a fairy-natured being.' [224] In another page he pairs them off more fairly with the 'Säligen Fräulein' of Germany. Here is a story of their ways which was given me, but I do not know if it was founded on his at page 215, or independently collected:--A young woodman was surprised one day to meet, in the midst of his lonely toil, a beautiful maiden, who nodded to him familiarly, and bid him 'good day' with more than common interest. Nor did her conversation end with 'good day;' she found enough to prattle about till night fell; and then, though the young woodman had been sitting by her side instead of attending to his work, he found he had a bigger faggot to carry home than he had ever made up with all his day's labour before. 'That was a sweet maiden, indeed,' he mused on his way home. 'And yet I doubt if she is all right. But her talk showed she was of the right stuff to make a housewife; but then Maddalena, what will she say? ha! let her say what she will, she won't stand comparing with her! I wonder if I shall see her again! And yet I don't think she's altogether right, either.' So he mused all through the lonely evening, and all through the sleepless night; and his first thought in the morning was of whether he should meet that strange maiden again in the wood. In the wood he did meet her, and again she wiled away the day with her prattle; and again and again they met. Maddalena sat at home weeping over her spinning-wheel, and wondering why he came no more to take her for a walk; but Maddalena was forgotten, and one day it was her fate to see her former lover and the strange maiden married in the parish church. The woodman was not surprised to find his seiren the model of a wife. The house was swept so clean, the clothes so neatly mended, the butter so quickly churned, that though all the villagers had been shy of the strange maiden, none could deny her excellent capacity. The woodman was very well satisfied with his choice; but as he had always a misgiving that there was something not quite right with her, he could not help nervously watching every little peculiarity. It was thus he came to notice that it was occasionally her custom to lay her long wavy tresses carefully outside the bedclothes at night; he thought this odd, and determined to watch her. One night, when she thought him asleep, and he was only feigning, he observed that she took a little box of salve from under her pillow, and rubbing it into her hair, said, Schiva boschi e schiva selva (shun woods and forests), and then was off and away in a trice. Determined to follow her, he took out the box of salve, and rubbing it into his hair, tried to repeat her saying, but he did not recall it precisely, and said instead, Passa boschi e passa selvi (away through woods and forests), and away he went, faster than he liked, while his clothes and his skin were torn by the branches of the trees. He came, however, to the precincts of a great palace, where was a fresh green meadow, on which were a number of kine grazing, and some were sleek and well-favoured, while some were piteously lean; and yet they all fed on the same pasture. The palace had so many windows that it took him a long while to count them, and when he had counted them he found there were three hundred and sixty-five. He climbed up and looked in at one of them--it was the window of a great hall, where a number of Enguane were dancing, and his wife in their midst. When he saw her, he called out to her; but when she heard his voice, instead of coming she took to flight, nor could he overtake her with all his strength for running. At last, after pursuing her for three days, he came to the hut of a holy hermit, who asked him wherefore he ran so fast; and when he had told him, the hermit bid him give up the chase, for an Enguane was not a proper wife for a Christian man. Then the woodman asked him to let him become a hermit too, and pass the remainder of his life under his guidance. To this the hermit consented; so he built him a house, and they lived together in holy contemplation. One day the woodman told the hermit of what he had seen when he went forth to seek his wife; and the hermit told him that the palace with three hundred and sixty-five windows represented this temporal world, with its years of three hundred and sixty-five days; but the fresh green meadow was the Church, in which the Redeemer gave His Flesh for the food of all alike; but that while some pastured on it to the gain of their eternal salvation, who were represented by the well-favoured kine, there were also the perverse and sinful, who eat to their own condemnation, and were represented by the lean and distressed kine. [225]

It is less easy to collect local traditions in Wälsch-Tirol than in any other part of the principality, but legends and marvellous stories exist in abundance; and so long as the institution of the Filò (or out-house room where village gossips meet to spend their evenings in silk-spinning and recounting tales) last, they will not be allowed to die out: [226] it is said that there are some old ladies who can go on retailing stories by the week together! And though by the nature of the case these gatherings must consist almost exclusively of women, yet it is thought uncanny not to have any man about the place; in fact, that in such a case Froberte [227] is sure to play them some trick. They narrate that once when this happened, one of the women exclaimed, 'Only see! we have no man at all among us; let's be off, or something will happen!' All rose to make their escape at the warning, but before they had time to leave, a donna Berta knocked and came in. 'Padrona! donna Berta dal nas longh,' [228] said all the women together, trying to propitiate her by politeness; and the nearest offered her a chair. 'Wait a little, and you'll see another with a longer nose than I,' replied Froberte; and as she spoke, a second donna Berta knocked and entered, to whom the women gave the same greeting. 'Wait a bit, and you'll see another with a longer nose than I,' said the second donna Berta; and so it went on till there were twelve of them. Then the first said, 'What shall we be at?' To which the second made answer, 'Suppose we do a bit of washing:' and the others agreeing, they told the women to give them pails to fetch water with; but the women, knowing that their intention was to have suffocated them all in the wash-tubs, gave them baskets instead. Not noticing the trick, they went down to the Etsch with the baskets to fetch water, and when they found that all their labour was in vain, they ran back in a great fury; but in the meantime the women had all escaped to their home, and every one was safe in bed with her husband. But a Froberte came to the window of each and cried, 'It is well for you you have taken refuge with your husband!' The next night the women were determined to pay off the brava Berta for the fright they had had, so they got one of their husbands to hide himself in the crib of the oxen; had he sat down with them, the Froberte would not have come at all. Not seeing him, Froberte knocked and came in, and they greeted her and gave her a chair, just as on the previous night; and the whole twelve soon arrived. Before they could begin their washing operations, however, the man sprang out of the crib, and put them to flight with many hard blows; so that they did not return for many a long day. The last day of Carneval was called il giorno delle Froberte, probably because many wild pranks in which sober people allow themselves to indulge on that day of licence were laid on the shoulders of Mistress Bertha. But it is also said, that since the sitting of the Holy Council of Trent, the power for mischief of these elves has grown quite insignificant. Here are some few specimens of the multifarious stories of the Filò. [229] Once there was a man and his wife who had two daughters: one pretty, but vain and malicious; the other ugly, but docile and pious. The mother made a favourite of the pretty daughter, but set the ugly one to do all the work of the house; and though she worked from morning to night, was never satisfied with her. One day she sent her down to the stream to do the washing; but the stream was swollen with the heavy rains, and had become so rapid that it carried off her sister's shift. Not daring to go home without it, she ran by the side of the stream, trying to fetch it back. All her pains were vain; the stream went on tumbling and roaring till it swelled out into a big river, and she could no longer even distinguish the shift from the white foam on which it was borne along. At last, hungry and weary, she descried a house, where she knocked with a trembling hand, and begged for shelter. The good woman come to the door, but advised her not to venture in, for the Salvan would soon be home; but the child knew nothing about the Salvan, but a great deal about the storm, and as one was brooding, and night coming on, she crept in. She had not been long inside, when the Salvan came home, also seeking shelter from the storm. 'What stink is this I smell of Christian flesh?' he roared; and the child was too truthful to remained concealed, and so came forward and told all her tale. The Salvan was won by her artlessness, and not only allowed her a bed and a supper, but gave her a basketful of as much fine linen as she could carry, to make up for her loss. When her pretty sister saw what a quantity of fine linen the Salvan had given her, she determined to go and beg for some too; but when the Salvan saw her coming, he holloaed out, 'So you're the child who behaves so ill to your sister!' and he gave her such a rude drubbing, that she went back with very few clothes on that were not in rags.

In selecting a specimen or two of the fiabe I will take first a group going by the name of 'Zuam' or 'Gian dall' Orso' (Bear-Johnny), [230] because the Wolf-boy group is a very curious one, and this is our nearest approach to it, [231] though it deals with a bear-child and not a wolf-child; [232] and because we have already found Orso and Orco confounded in Italian folk-lore at Rome. The following is from Val di Non:--A labourer and his wife had their little boy out with them as they worked in the fields. A she-bear came out of the woods and carried him off. She treated him well, however, and taught him to be strong and hardy, and when he was twenty years old she sent him to his parents. He had such an appetite that he eat them out of house and home, and then he made his mother go and beg all over the country till she had enough to buy him three hundredweight of iron to make him a club. Armed with this club, he went forth to seek fortune. In the woods he met a giant carrying a leaden club called Barbiscat ('Cat's Beard'), and the two made friends went out together till they met another giant, who carried a wooden club called Testa di Molton ('Ram's Head'). They made friends and went out together till they came to a house in a town where magicians lived. The giant with Barbiscat knocked first, and at midnight a magician came out and said, 'Earthworm, wherefore are you come?' then he of Barbiscat was frightened and ran away. The next night the giant with Testa di Molton knocked with the same result. But the third night Gian dall' Orso himself knocked, and he had no fear, but when the magician came out he knocked him down with many blows of his iron club, and went to fetch the other two giants. When they returned no magician was to be seen, only a trail of blood. They followed the trail till they came to a deep pit, and Zuam dall' Orso made the giants let him down by a rope. In a cave he found the wounded magician and three others besides, by slaying whom he delivered a beautiful maiden. The giants drew her up, but abandoned him. Then he saw a ring lying on the ground, and when he took it up and rubbed it two Moors appeared and asked him what he wanted. 'I want an eagle, to bear me up to earth,' he said. So they brought him a big eagle, 'but,' said they, 'he must be well fed the while.' So he bid them bring him two shins of beef, and fed him well the while, and the eagle bore him to the king; who finding he was the deliverer of his daughter, killed the two giants, and gave him plenty of gold and silver, with which he went back to his home and lived happily and in peace,--a very homely termination, welcome to the mountaineer's mind. In the Lederthal version he was so strong at two years old that he lifted up the mountain under which the bear's den was, and ran back to his mother; but at school he killed all the children, and knocked down the teacher and the priest, and was sent to prison. Here he lifted the door off its hinges, and went to the judge, and made him give him a sword, with which he went forth to seek fortune. With the two companions picked up by the wayside, who for once do not play him the trick of leaving him below in the cave, he delivers three princesses, and all are made happy. In another version, where he is called 'Filomusso the Smith,' and is nurtured by an ass instead of a bear, the provision of meat for feeding the eagle is exhausted before he reaches the earth, and he heroically tears a piece of flesh out of his own leg, and thus the flight can be completed.

2. The following version of the story of Joseph and his Brethren is quaint:--A king had three sons. The two elder were grown up, while Jacob (the Italian is not given) was still quite small, and was his father's pet. One day, when the king came back from hunting, he was quite out of sorts because he had lost the feather (la penna dell' uccello sgrifone) he was wont always to wear. When everyone had sought for it in vain, little Jacob came to him, and bid him eat and be of good cheer for he and his brothers would find the feather. The king promises his kingdom to whichever of the three finds it. Little Jacob finds the feather, and carries it full of joy to his brothers. The brothers, jealous that he should have the kingdom, kill him and take the feather to their father. A year after a shepherd finds little Jacob's bones, and takes one of them to make a fife, but as soon as he begins to play upon it the fife tells the whole story of the foul play. The shepherd takes it to the king, who convicts his two sons, has them put to death, and dies of grief.

3. Here is a homely version of Oidipous and the Sphinx:--A poor man owed a large debt and had nothing to pay it with. The rich man to whom he owed it came to demand the sum, and found only the poor man's little boy sitting by the hearth. 'What are you doing?' asked the rich man. 'I watch them come and go,' replied the boy. 'Do so many people come to you then?' enquired the rich man. 'No man,' replied the boy. Not liking to own himself puzzled, the rich man asked again, 'Where is your father?' 'He's gone to plug a hole with another hole,' replied the boy. Posed again, the rich man proceeded, 'And where's your mother?' 'She's baking bread that's already eaten,' replied the boy.

'You are either very clever or a great idiot,' now retorted the rich man; 'will you please to explain yourself?' 'Yes, if you will reward me by forgiving father his debt.' The rich man accepted the terms, and the boy proceeded.

'I'm boiling beans, and the bubbling water makes them seethe, and I watch them come and go. My father is gone to borrow a sum of money to pay you with, so to plug one hole he is making another. All the bread we have eaten for a fortnight past was borrowed of a neighbour, now mother is making some to pay it back with, so I may well say what she is making is already eaten.'

The rich man expressed himself satisfied, and the poor man was delivered from the burden of his debt.

4. A poor country lad once went out into the wide world to seek fortune. As he went along he met a very old woman carrying a pail of water, with which she seemed sadly overladen. The poor lad ran after her, and carried it home for her. But she was an Angana, and to reward him she gave him a dog and a cat, and a little silver ring, which she told him to turn round whenever he was in difficulty. The boy walked on, thinking little about the old woman's ring, and not at all believing in its efficacy. When he got tired with his walking he laid down under a tree, but he was too hungry to sleep. As he lay tossing about he twirled the ring round without knowing what he was doing, and suddenly an old woman appeared before him, just like the one he had helped, and asked what he wanted of her. 'Something to eat and drink,' was the ready and natural answer. He had hardly spoken it when he found a table spread with good things before him. He made a good meal, nor did he neglect to feed his dog and cat well; and then they all had a good sleep. In the morning he reasoned, 'Why should I journey further when my ring can give one all one wants?' So he turned the ring round; and when the old woman appeared he asked for a house, and meadows, and farming-stock, and furniture; and then he paused to think of what more he could possibly desire; but he remembered the lessons of moderation his mother had taught him, and he said, 'No, it is not good for a man to have all he wants in this world.' So he asked for nothing more, but set to work to cultivate his land. One day when he was working on his land, a grand damsel came by with a number of servants riding after her. The damsel had lost her way, and had to ask him to lead her back to the right path. As they went, she talked to him about his house and his means, and his way of life; and before she had got to her journey's end they were so well pleased with each other that she agreed to go back with him and marry him; but it was the ring she was in love with rather than with him. They were no sooner married than she got possession of the ring, and by its power she ordered the farm-house to be changed into a palace, and the farm-servants into liveried retainers, and all manner of luxuries, and chests of coin. Nor was she satisfied with this. One day, when her husband was asleep in a summer-house, she ordered it to be carried up to the highest tip of a very high mountain, and the palace far away into her own country. When he woke he found himself all alone on the frightful height, with no one but the dog and cat, who always slept the one at his head and the other at his feet. Though he was an expert climber it was impossible to get down from so sharp a peak, so he sat down and gave himself up to despair. The cat and dog, however, comforted him, and said they would provide the remedy. They clambered down the rugged declivity, and ran on together till they came to a stream which puss could not cross, but the dog put her on his back and swam over with her; and without further adventure they made their way to the palace where their master's wife lived. With some cleverness they manoeuvred their way into the interior, but into the bed-room there seemed no chance of effecting an entrance. They paced up and down hour by hour, but the door was never opened. At last, when all was very still, a mouse came running along the corridor. The cat pounced on the mouse, who pleaded hard for mercy in favour of her seven small children. 'If I restore you to liberty,' said the cat, 'you must do something for me in return.' The mouse promised everything; and the cat instructed her to gnaw a hole in the door, and fetch the ring out of the princess's mouth, where she made no doubt she kept it at night for safety. The mouse kept her word, and obeying her directions punctually, soon returned with the ring; and off the cat and dog set on their return home, in high glee at their success. It rankled, however, in the dog's mind, that it was the cat who had all the glory of recovering the treasure; and by the time they had got back to the stream he told her that if she would not give him the satisfaction of carrying the ring the rest of the way, he would not carry her over it. The cat would not accept his view, and a fight ensued, in the midst of which the ring escaped them both and fell into the water, where it was caught by a fish. The cat was in despair, but the dog plunged in and seized the fish, and by regaining the ring earned equal right to the merit of its recovery, and they clambered together in amity. Their master was rejoiced to receive his ring once more, and by its power he got back his homestead and farm-stock, and sent for his mother to live with him, and all his life through took great care of his faithful dog and cat; but the perverse princess he ordered the ring to transfer in the summer-house to the peak whither she would have banished him. When all this was set in order he threw away the ring, because he said it was not well for a man to have all his wishes satisfied in this world. [233]

The following legend of St. Kümmerniss is very popular in Tirol. Churchill, in his 'Titian's Country,' mentions a chapel on the borders of Cadore and Wälsch-Tirol, where she is represented just as there described, but he does not appear to have inquired into its symbolism. There was once a heathen king who had a daughter named Kümmerniss, who was fair and beautiful beyond compare. A neighbouring king, also a heathen, sought her in marriage, and her father gave his consent to the union; but Kümmerniss was distressed beyond measure, for she had vowed in her own heart to be the bride of heaven. Of course her father could not understand her motives, and to force her to marry put her into a hard prison. From the depths of the dungeon Kümmerniss prayed that she might be so transformed that no man should wish to marry her; and in conformity with her devoted petition, when they came to take her out of the prison they found that all her beauty was gone, and her face overgrown with long hair like a man's beard. When her father saw the change in her he was indignant, and asked what had befallen her. She replied that He whom she adored had changed her so, to save her from marrying the heathen king after she had vowed herself to be His bride alone. 'Then shall you die, like Him you adore,' was her father's answer. She meekly replied that she had no greater desire than to die, that she might be united with Him. And thus her pure life was taken a sweet sacrifice; and whoso would like her be altogether devoted to God, and like her obtain their petition from heaven, let them honour her, and cause her effigy to be painted in the church. So many believed they found the efficacy of her intercession, that they set up memorial images of her everywhere, and in one place they set one up all in pure gold. A poor minstrel once came by that way with his violin; and because he had earned nothing, and was near starving, he stood before St. Kümmerniss and played his prayer on his violin. Plaintive and more plaintive still grew his beseeching notes, till at last the saint, who never sent any away empty, shook off one of her golden shoes, and bid him take it for an alms. The minstrel carried the golden shoe to a goldsmith, and asked him to buy it of him for money; but the goldsmith, recognizing whence it came, refused to have anything to do with sacrilegious traffic, and accused him of stealing it. The minstrel loudly protested his innocence, and the goldsmith as loudly vociferated his accusation, till their clamour raised the whole village; and all were full of fury and indignation at the supposed crime of the minstrel. As their anger grew, they were near tearing him in pieces, when a grave hermit came by, and they asked him to judge the case. 'If it be true that the man obtained one shoe by his minstrelsy, let him play till he obtain the other in our sight,' was his sentence; and all the people were so pleased with it, that they dragged the minstrel back to the shrine of St. Kümmerniss. The minstrel, who had been as much astonished as anyone else at his first success, scarcely dared hope for a second, but it was death to shrink from the test; so he rested his instrument on his shoulder, and drew the bow across it with trembling hand. Sweet and plaintive were the shuddering voice-like tones he sent forth before the shrine; but yet the second shoe fell not. The people began to murmur; horror heightened his distress. Cadence after cadence, moan upon moan, wail upon wail, faltered through the air, and entranced every ear and palsied every hand that would have seized him; till at last, overcome with the intensity of his own passionate appeal, the minstrel sank unconscious on the ground. When they went to raise him up, they found that the second golden shoe was no longer on the saint's foot, but that she had cast it towards him. When they saw that, each vied with the other to make amends for the unjust suspicions of the past. The golden shoes were restored to the saint; but the minstrel never wanted for good entertainment for the rest of his life.

'Puss in Boots' figures in the Folklore of Wälsch-Tirol as 'Il Conte Martin della Gatta;' its chief point of variation is that no boots enter into it at all, otherwise the action of the cat is as usual in other versions.

There is another class of stories in which the townspeople indulge at the expense of the uninstructed peasants in outlying districts, and which their extreme simplicity and naïveté occasionally justify. I must not close my notice of the Volklore of Wälsch-Tirol without giving some specimens of these. It may be generally observed that stories which have no particular moral point, and are designed only to amuse without instructing, are as frequent in the Trentino as they are rare in the German divisions of Tirol.

Turlulù [234] was such a simple boy that he could not be made to do anything aright; and what was worst was, he thought himself so clever that he would always go off without listening to half his instructions. One day his mother sent him with her last piece of money to buy a bit of meat for a poor neighbour; 'And mind,' she said, 'that the butcher doesn't give you all bone.' 'Leave that to me!' cried Turlulù without waiting for an explanation; and off he went to the town. The butcher offered him a nice piece of leg of beef. 'No, no, there's bone to that,' cried Turlulù; 'that won't do.' The butcher, provoked, offered him a lump of lights. Turlulù seeing it look so soft, and no bone at all to it, went off with it quite pleased, but of course the poor neighbour had to starve. When his mother found what he had done, she was in great distress, for she had no money left; so she sent him with a piece of home-spun linen to try to sell it. 'But mind you don't waste your time talking to gossiping old women,' she said. 'Leave that to me, mother,' cried Turlulù; and off he ran. As he got near the market-place, he began crying, 'Fine linen! who wants to buy fine linen!' Several countrywomen, who had come up to town to make purchases, came to look at the quality. 'Go along, you gossiping old things; don't imagine I'm going to sell it to you!' cried Turlulù, and he ran away from them. As he ran on he saw a capitello [235] by the wayside. When he saw the image of the Blessed Virgin, looking so grave and calm, he said, 'Ah, you are no gossip, you shall have my linen;' and he threw it at her feet. 'Come, pay me!' he cried presently; but of course the figure moved not. 'Ah, I see, you've not got the money to-day; I will come back for it to-morrow.' When he came back on the morrow the linen had been picked up by a passer-by, but no money was forthcoming. 'Pay me now,' said Turlulù; but still the figure was immovable. Again and again he repeated the demand, till, finding it still unheeded, he took off his belt, and hit hard and fast upon the image. So great was his violence, that in a very short time he had knocked it to the ground; and lo and behold, inside the now uncovered pedestal were a heap of gold pieces, which some miser had concealed there for greater security. 'My mother herself will own this is good pay for the linen,' cried Turlulù, as he filled his pockets, 'and for once she won't find fault.' His way home lay along the edge of the pond, and as he passed the ducks were crying, 'Quack! quack! quack!' Turlulù thought they were saying Quattro, meaning that he had four pieces of gold. 'That's all you know about it,' cried Turlulù; 'I've got many more than four, many more.' But the ducks continued to cry 'Quack.' 'I tell you there are more than four,' reiterated Turlulù impetuously, but the ducks did not alter their strain. 'Then take them, and count them yourselves, and you'll see what a lot there are!' So saying, he threw the whole treasure into the mud; and as the ducks, scared by the noise, left off their 'quack,' he satisfied himself that he had convinced them, and went home to boast to his mother of the feat.

A showman came through a village with a dancing-bear. The people went out to see him, and gave him plenty of halfpence. 'Suppose we try our luck, and go about showing a bear too; it seems a profitable sort of trade,' said one of the lookers-on to another. 'Ay, but where shall we find one?' objected the man addressed. 'Oh, there must be bears to be found; it needs only to go out and look for them.' They went out to look for a bear, and at last really found one, [236] which ran before them and plunged into a cave. 'I'll tell you what we'll do,' said the peasant who had proposed the adventure, 'I'll creep into the cave and seize the bear, and you take hold of my legs and pull us both out together.' The other assented; and in went the first. But the bear, instead of letting him seize it, bit off his head. The other pulled him out as agreed, but was much astonished to find him headless. 'Well, to be sure!' he cried, 'I never noticed the poor fellow came out this morning without his head. I must go home and ask his wife for it.' So saying, he ran back to the man's house. 'I say, neighbour,' he cried, 'did you happen to notice, when your husband went out this morning, whether he had his head on?' 'I never thought to look,' replied the wife, 'but I'll run up and see if he left it in bed; but tell me,' she added, 'will he catch cold for going out without his head on?' 'I don't know as to that,' replied the man; 'but if he should want to whistle he might find it awkward!'

A woman working in the fields one day saw a snail, which spread out its horns as she looked at it. In great alarm, she ran to the chief man of the parish, and told him what she had seen. He, too, was horribly frightened, but he mastered his fear, as became the dignity of his office. In order to provide duly for the safety of his village, he sent two trustworthy men with a large sum of money to Trent, to buy a sharp sword; and till their return placed all the able-bodied men on guard. When the man brought the sharp sword back from Trent, he called the heads of the Commune together, and said to them: 'I will not exercise my right of sending any of you in peril of his life, but I ask you which of you is ready to encounter this great danger, and whoever has the courage shall receive a great reward.' Hereupon two of the most valiant came forward as volunteers, and were invested with the sharp sword. In solemn silence they marched boldly to the field where the snail was, and they saw him sitting on the edge of a rotten leaf; but at the moment when they had screwed up their courage to smite him with the edge of the sword, the breeze blew down the leaf and the snail with it. They, however, thought the snail was preparing to attack them, and ran away so fast that they tumbled over the edge of an abyss.

The people of a certain village were envious because the church tower of the neighbouring village was higher than theirs. So they held a council to consider what remedy they could apply. No one could think of anything to propose, till the oldest and wisest of them at last rose and advised that a great heap of hay should be laid by the side of their tower, so that it might eat and grow strong, and increase in height. The counsel was received with applause, and every one cheerfully brought his quota to the common sacrifice, till there was a mighty heap of hay laid at the base of the church tower. All the horses and asses that went by, finding such a fine provision of provender laid out for them, ate the hay; but the people seeing the heap diminish, were quite satisfied, and said, 'Our tower must be beginning to grow, you see how fast it eats!'

In Wälsch-Tirol the graves are not decked with flowers on All Souls' Day, as in Germany, but on the other hand it is customary for the parish clergy to gather their flocks round them, and say the Rosary kneeling amid the graves. Doles of bread, locally called cuzza, and alms, are given away to the poor on that day, and in some places a particular soup made of beans. The symbolism was formerly carried so far, that these alms, devoted to the refreshment of the souls of the departed, were actually laid on the graves, as if it was supposed that the holy souls would come out and partake of the material food. And thus some even placed vessels of cold water as a special means of solace from their purgatorial pains. [237] In the north of Italy, the feast of Sta. Lucia (December 13) holds the place of that of St. Nicholas among children in Germany; in Wälsch-Tirol the children have the advantage of keeping both.

In Val Arsa, part of the loaves baked on Christmas Eve are kept, as Cross-buns used to be among us. In Folgareit they have a curious game for Christmas-tide. A number of heaps of flour, according to the number of the household, are arranged on the table by the father of the family, some little present being covered up in each; when they are thus prepared the family is admitted, and the choice of places decided by various modes of contest. In several parts, particularly in the Rabbithal, the Lombard [238] custom prevails of putting a huge log on the fire, called the Zocco di Natale and the Zocco di ogni bene, that it may burn all night and keep the Divine Infant from the cold. The idea, more or less prevalent all over Christendom, that beasts have the gift of speech on Christmas Eve, prevails here no less. A story is told of a peasant who determined to sit up and listen to what his oxen said. 'Where shall we have to go to-morrow?' he heard one say. 'We shall have to fetch the boards for our master's coffin,' replied his companion. The man was so shocked, that he went to bed and died next day. Animals are blessed on St. Anthony's day (January 18), as in Rome.

Carnival is celebrated with representations partaking somewhat of the character of 'Passion Plays,' though always with more or less humorous treatment of their subject. Till lately there lingered a curious pastime at this season, in which on Giovedì grasso there was a contest, according to fixed rules, between the masked and unmasked inhabitants, for certain cakes (gnocchi) made of Indian corn, whence the day is still called Giovedì dei gnocchi. It commemorated a fight between the men of Trent and them of Feltre, who tried to carry off their provision while they were building the walls of Trent, in the time of Theodoric King of the Visigoths. S. Urban is considered the patron of vineyards in Etschland, and on his feast his images are hung with bunches of grapes.

Here are a few specimens of their popular sayings and customs. When it thunders the children say, Domeniddio va in carozza. The chirping of a cricket, instead of being reckoned a lucky token, forebodes death. Sponsors are regarded a person's nearest relations, and at their funeral they go as chief mourners before all others. Marriages in May are avoided. The reason why the bramble always creeps along, instead of growing erect, is, because once a thorny bramble branch caught the hair of the Blessed Virgin; before that it grew erect like other trees. Cockchafers are blind, because one of them once flew into the Blessed Virgin's face and startled her; before that they had sight. Swallows are called uccelli della Madonna, but I have not ascertained the reason. Scorpions, which are venomous in Italy, are not so in the Italian Tirol, because one fell once into St. Vigilius' chalice at Mass. I will conclude with some popular riddles, showing a traditionary observation of the movements of the heavenly bodies, but not much humour:

Due viandanti, Due ben stanti, E un cardinal? [239]

Gh' è 'n prà Tutto garofalà: Quanca se vien el Papa con tutta la sô paperia En garòfol sol no l'è bon de portar via? [240]

Piatto sopra piatto, Uomo ben armato, Donna ben vestita. Cavalleria ben fornita? [241]

C'è un palazzo, vi son dodici camere, ognuna ne ha trenta travi, e vi son due che si corrono sempre l'uno dietro all' altro e non si raggiungono mai? [242]

O mein Tirol! wie ich mit Schmerzentzücken Dich nun geschaut vor meinen feuchten Blicken. So lebt dein rührend Bild im tiefsten Sinn. Nimm denn, Tirol, des Schmerzbegeistrungstrunk'nen, Des ganz in dich Verlornen und Versunk'nen Liebvolles Lebewohl, mit Liebe hin!

Eduard Silesius.

NOTES

[1] This is what the introduction of manufactories is doing in Italy at this moment. The director of a large establishment in Tuscany, which devours, to its own share, the growth of a whole hill-side every year, smiled at my simplicity when I expressed regret at hearing that no provision was made for replacing the timber as it is consumed.

[2] Except the Legends of the Marmolata, which I have given in 'Household Stories from the Land of Hofer; or, Popular Myths of Tirol,' I hardly remember to have met any concerning its prominent heights.

[3] I published much of the matter of the following pages in the first instance in the Monthly Packet, and I have to thank the Editor for my present use of them.

[4] See Steub 'Über die Urbewohner Rätiens und ihren Zusammenhang mit den Etruskern. Münich, 1843,' quoted in Dennis' Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, I. Preface, p. xlv.

[5] See it in use below, p. 28, and comp. Etruscan Res. p. 302, note.

[6] Somewhat like pleurer. A good many words are like French, as gutschle, a settle (couche); schesa, a gig; and gespusa, mentioned above, is like épouse; and au, for water, is common over N. Tirol, as well as Vorarlberg, e.g. infra, pp. 24, 111. &c.

[7] Comp. Etrus. Res. 339-41.

[8] Several places have received their name from having grown round such a hut; some of these occur outside Vorarlberg, as for instance Kühthei near St. Sigismund (infra, p. 331) in the Lisenthal, and Niederthei in the OEtzthal.

[9] Comp. ma = earth, land, Etrus. Res. pp. 121, 285.

[10] Comp. subulo, Etrus. Res. 324. Dennis i. 339.

[11] Infra, p. 411.

[12] See e.g., infra, p. 202.

[13] Etrus. Res. p. 330.

[14] P. 79.

[15] Professor Max Müller, Chips from a German Workshop.

[16] Rev. G. W. Cox, Prof. De Gubernatis, Dr. Dasent, &c.

[17] In the Contemporary Review for March 1874.

[18] Mr. Cox had pointed it out before him, however, and more fully, Mythology of the Aryan Nations, ii. 200.

[19] L'una vegghiava a studio della culla, E consolando usava l'idioma, Che pria li padri e le madri trastulla: L'altra traendo alla rocca la chioma Favoleggiava con la sua famiglia De' Troiani, e di Fiesole, e di Roma.

Dante. Paradiso, xv. 120 5.

[20] Tullio Dandolo.

[21] Depping, Romancero, Preface.

[22] The usual fate of relying on Road-books. Ours, I forget whether Amthor's or Trautwein's, said there was regular communication between Oberriet and Feldkirch, and nothing could be further from the fact, as will be seen a few pages later.

[23] If Pfäffers is visited by rail (see p. 23), it is convenient to take it before Feldkirch.

[24] See further quaint details and historical particulars in Vonbun, Sagen Vorarlbergs, p. 103-5.

[25] Vonbun, pp. 113-4.

[26] Historical particulars in Vonbun, pp. 110-1.

[27] Vonbun, pp. 86-7.

[28] It may also be reached by railway as it is but three or four miles from Ragatz, two stations beyond Buchs (p. 13).

[29] It has been suggested by an eminent comparative mythologist that it is natural Luc-ius should be said to have brought 'the Light of the Gospel' to men of Licht-enstein.

[30] The traitor was loaded with heavy armour and thrown over the Ill precipice. See Vonbun's parallel with the tradition of the Tarpeian rock, p. 99 n. 2.

[31] Notably at Raggal, Sonntag, Damüls, Luterns, and also in Lichtenstein.--Vonbun, pp. 107-8.

[32] Infra, Chapter viii., p. 238.

[33] Vonbun, pp. 92-3.

[34] Some analogous cases quoted in Sagas from the Far East, pp. 365, 383-5.

[35] Father! take me also with you.

[36] Vonbun, pp. 115-7.

[37] The story of its curious success against the Bavarians in 1703, p. 287-8. From Landeck there is a fine road (the description of which belongs to Snitt-Tirol), over the Finstermünz and Stelvio, to the baths of Bormio or Worms.

[38] The chief encounter occurred at a place called Le Tezze, near Primolano, on the Venetian border, where the Tiroleans repulsed the Italians, in numbers tenfold greater than their own, and no further attempt was made. The anniversary is regularly observed by visiting the graves on August 14; mentioned below at Le Tezze.

[39] Following are the names of the fourteen, but I have never met any one who could explain the selection. 1. S. Acatius, bishop in Asia Minor, saved from death in the persecutions under Decius, 250, by a miracle he performed in the judgment hall where he was tried, and in memory of which he carries a tree, or a branch of one, in pictures of him. 2. S. Ægidius (Giles, in German, Gilgen), Hermit, of Nimes, nourished in his cell by the milk of a hind, which, being hunted, led to the discovery of his sanctity, an episode constantly recurring in the legendary world. Another poetical legend concerning him is that a monk, having come to him to express a doubt as to the virginity of Our Lady, S. Giles, for all answer traced her name in the sand with his staff, and forthwith full-bloom lilies sprang up out of it. 3. S. Barbara. A maiden whom her heathen father shut up in a tower, that nothing might distract her attention from the life of study to which he devoted her; among the learned men who came to enjoy her elevated conversation came a Christian teacher, and converted her; in token of her belief in the doctrine of the Trinity she had three windows made in her tower, and by the token her father discovered her conversion, delivered her to judgment, and she suffered an incredible repetition of martyrdoms. She is generally painted with her three-windowed tower in her hand. 4. S. Blase, Bishop of Sebaste and Martyr, A.D. 288. He had studied medicine, and when concealed in the woods during time of persecution, the wild beasts used to bring the wounded of their number to his feet to be healed. Men hunting for Christians to drag to justice, found him surrounded by lions, tigers, and bears; even in prison he continued to exercise his healing powers, and from restoring to life a boy who had been suffocated by swallowing a fishbone, he is invoked as patron against sore throat. He too suffered numerous martyrdoms. 5. S. Christopher. 6. S. Cyriacus, Martyr, 309, concerning whom many legends are told of his having delivered two princesses from incurable maladies. 7. S. Dionysius, the Areopagite, converted by S. Paul, and consecrated by him Bishop of Athens, afterwards called to Rome by S. Peter, and made Bishop of Paris. 8. S. Erasmus, a bishop in Syria, after enduring many tortures there, he was thrown into prison, and delivered by an angel, who sent him to preach Christianity in Italy, he died at Gaeta 303. At Naples and other places he is honoured as S. Elmo. 9. S. Eustachius, originally called Placidus, a Roman officer, converted while hunting by meeting a stag which carried a refulgent cross between its horns; his subsequent reverses, his loss of wife and children, the wonderful meeting with them again, and the agency of animals throughout, make his one of the most romantic of legends. 10. S. George. 11. S. Catherine of Alexandria. 12. S. Margaret. 13. S. Pantaleone, another student of medicine; when, after many tortures, he was finally beheaded, the legend tells us that, in token of the purity of his life, milk flowed from his veins instead of blood, A.D. 380. 14. S. Vitus, a Sicilian, instructed by a slave, who was his nurse, in the Christian faith in his early years; his father's endeavours to root out his belief were unavailing, and he suffered A.D. 303, at not more than twelve years of age. The only link I can discover in this chain of saints is that they are all but one or two, whose alleged end I do not know, as S. Christopher, credited with having suffered a plurality of terrible martyrdoms. To each is of course ascribed the patronage over some special one of the various phases of human suffering.

[40] P. 12.

[41] Among these not the least remarkable were some specimens of the unbrimmed beaver hat, somewhat resembling the Grenadier's bear-skin, only shorter, which is worn by the women in various parts of Tirol and Styria.

[42] The bell called in other countries the Elevation bell, is in Germany called the Wandlung, or change-of-the-elements bell. The idiom was worth preserving here, as it depicts more perfectly the solemnity of the moment indicated.

[43] The threefold invocation, supposed to be supremely efficacious.

[44] In Tirol the roofs are frequently made of narrow overlapping planks, weighed down by large stones. Hence the origin of the German proverb, 'If a stone fall from the roof, ten to one but it lights on a poor widow;'--equivalent to our 'Trouble never comes alone.'

[45] 'May God reward it.'

[46] The frontispiece to this volume (very much improved by the artist who has drawn it on the wood).

[47] Of the Brixenthal and the Gebiet der grossen Ache we shall have to speak in a later chapter, in our excursion 'from Wörgl to Vienna.'

[48] The comparative mythologist can perhaps tell us why this story crops up everywhere. I have had occasion to report it from Spain in Patrañas. Curious instances in Stöber Sagen des Elsasses.

[49] S. Leonard is reckoned the patron of herds. See Pilger durch Tirol, p. 247.

[50] Anna Maria Taigi, lately beatified in Rome, was also a maid-servant.

[51] I have throughout the story reconciled, as well as I could, the various versions of every episode in which local tradition indulges. One favourite account of Ottilia's end, however, is so different from the one I have selected above, that I cannot forbear giving it also. It represents Ottilia rushing in despair from her bed and wallowing in the enclosure of the pigs, whence, with all Henry's care, she could not be withdrawn alive. All the strength of his retainers was powerless to restrain the beasts' fury, and she was devoured, without leaving a trace behind; only that now and then, on stormy nights, when the pigs are grunting over their evening meal, some memory of their strange repast seems to possess them, and the wail of Ottilia is heard resounding hopelessly through the valley.

[52] Grimm has collected (Deutsche Sagen, Nos. 349 and 350) other versions of the tradition of oxen deciding the sites of shrines which, like the story of the steeple, meets us everywhere. A similar one concerning a camel is given in Stöber's Legends of Alsace.

[53] It is perhaps to be reckoned among the tokens of Etruscan residence among the Rhætian Alps, for Mr. Isaac Taylor finds that the word belongs to their language. (Etruscan Researches, pp. 333, 380.)

[54] 'Hulda was supposed to delight in the neighbourhood of lakes and streams; her glittering mansion was under the blue waters, and at the hour of mid-day she might be seen in the form of a beautiful woman bathing and then disappearing.'--Wolf, Deutsche Götterlehre. See also Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, pp. 164-8.

[55] One version of the legend says, the Frozen Wall was formed out of the quantities of butter the people had wasted.

[56] This excursion was made on occasion of a different journey from that mentioned in Chapter i. Of course, if taken on the way from Kufstein to Innsbruck, you would take the Wildschönau before the Zillerthal.

[57] Whoever comes into the Zillerthal is sure to visit it a second time.

[58] In the Vintschgau (see infra) the leading cow has the title of Proglerin, from the dialectic word proglen, to carry one's head high. She wears also the most resounding bell.

[59] 'Kaspar my name: from the East I came: I came thence with great speed: five thousand miles in fourteen days: Melchior, step in.' Zingerle gives a version of the whole set of rimes.

[60] See Sitten Bräuche u. Meinungen des Tiroler Volks, p. 81.

[61] Its origin may be traced further back than this, perhaps. The cat was held to be the sacred animal of Freia (Schrader, Germ. Myth.), and the word freien, to woo, to court, is derived from her name. (Nork.)

[62] The merry mocking laugh was a distinguishing characteristic of Robin Goodfellow. 'Mr. Launcelot Mirehouse, Rector of Pestwood, Wilts, did aver to me, super verbum sacerdotis, that he did once heare such a lowd laugh on the other side of a hedge, and was sure that no human lungs could afford such a laugh.'--John Aubrey, in Thoms' Anecdotes and Traditions, Camb. Camden Society, 1839.

[63] O woe! the plough like fire glows, And no one how to help me knows.

[64] Released am I now, God be praised, And the bound-stone again rightly placed.

[65] The haunting cobbler--a popular name for 'the wandering Jew'; in Switzerland they call him 'Der Umgehende Jud.'

[66] (The souls of all unbaptized children.) Börner, Volkssagen, p. 133.

[67] A precisely similar superstition is mentioned in Mrs. Whitcomb's recently published volume as existing in Devonshire. We shall meet Berchtl again in the neighbouring 'Gebiet der Grossen Ache' on our excursion from 'Wörgl to Vienna.'

[68] Procula is the name given her in the Apocryphal Gospels.

[69] 'It is now known that such tales are not the invention of individual writers, but that they are the last remnants--the detritus, if we may say so--of an ancient mythology; that some of the principal heroes bear the nicknames of old heathen gods; and that in spite of the powerful dilution produced by the admixture of Christian ideas, the old leaven of heathendom can still be discovered in many stories now innocently told by German nurses, of saints, apostles, and the Virgin Mary.'--Max Müller, Chips from a German Workshop.

[70] Compare Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations, vol. ii. p. 364, and passim.

[71] Max Müller. Review of Dasent's Works.

[72] Max Müller. Comparative Mythology.

[73] A tradition still held of the Berchtl in many parts of Tirol.

[74] Nork. Mythologie der Volkssagen.

[75] Abbé Banier. Mythology Explained from History. Vol. ii. Book 3, p. 564, note a.

[76] Nork, Banier, &c. Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations, vol. i. pp. 317-8 and note, gives other connexions of the Legend; and at vol. ii. p. 306, and note to p. 365.

[77] M. Müller. Review of Kelley's Indo-European Traditions.

[78] Weber says the only accusation was grounded on a pasquinade against Claudia found among his papers, but that he should calumniate her seems inconsistent with his general character. Though his unsparing lampoons on his adversaries had excited them more than anything else against him.

[79] Compare Gebhart, vol. ii. p. 240.

[80] Near Innsbruck.

[81] Staffler, Das Deutsche Tirol, vol. i. p. 751; and Thaler, Geschichte Tirols v. der Urzeit, p. 279.

[82] Ball's Central Alps.

[83] Pasture-ground lying at the base of a mountain.

[84] Alpine herdsman.

[85] Respecting the curious idea of the kalte Pein, consult Alpenburg, Mythen Tirols; Vernalken, Alpensagen; Beckstein, Thuringer Sagenbuch. See also Dr. Dasent's remarks about Hel in Popular Tales from the Norse; and Dante (notably Inferno, cantos vi. xxii. xxiv.) introduces cold among the pains of even the Christian idea of future punishment.

[86] Here we have quite the Etruscan idea of providing against after-death needs with appliances connected with the mortal state. Dennis (Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, vol. i. p. 34) mentions more material traces of Etruscan beliefs at Matrei, on the north side of the Brenner. Somewhat further south more important remains still have of late years been unearthed, as we shall have occasion to note by-and-by.

The story in the text, in its depiction of self-devotion, has much analogy with a Chinese legend told to me by Dr. Samuel Birch, of the British Museum, concerning a man who sacrifices his own life in order to put himself on fighting terms with a cruel spirit which torments that of his dead companion. In its details it is like the story I have pointed out in Folklore of Rome (the 'Tale of the Pilgrim Husband,' pp. 361-3 and xvii), as the most devious from Christian teaching of any of the legends I have met with in Rome; and it is particularly noteworthy in connexion with Mr. Isaac Taylor's summary of the Etruscan creed (Etruscan Researches, p. 270). 'The Turanian creed was Animistic. The gods needed no gifts, but the wants of the ancestral spirits had to be supplied: the spirits of the departed were served in the ghost-world by the spirits of the utensils and ornaments which they had used in life.') And in effect we find in every collection of the contents preserved at the opening of Etruscan tombs, not only gems and jewellery and household utensils, but remains also of every kind of food.

[87] There is something like this in Dean Milman's Annals of St. Paul's Cathedral:--'"Others," adds Bishop Braybroke, "by the instigation of the devil, do not scruple to play at ball, and other unseemly games, within the church (he is speaking of St. Paul's), breaking the costly painted windows, to the amazement of the spectators."' Speaking of the post-Reformation period, the Dean adds: 'If, when the cathedral was more or less occupied by sacred subjects, the invasion of the sanctuary by worldly sinners resisted all attempts at suppression; now, that the daily service had shrunk into mere forms of prayer, at best into a mere 'Cathedral Service,' ... it cannot be wondered at that the reverence, which all the splendour of the old ritual could not maintain, died away altogether as Puritanism rose in the ascendant.' Mr. Longman, however (The Three Cathedrals, p. 54-6), quotes the very stringent regulations which were issued for the repression of such practices: perhaps the legend constructor would say, these afford the reason why, though St. Paul's was profaned like the church of Achensee, it did not 'likewise perish.'

[88] Nork (Mythologie der Volksagen, vol. ix. p. 83) gives other significations to horse-shoes found in the walls of old churches, but does not mention this instance. Concerning the origin of the superstition about vampires, see Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations, vol. i. p. 363; also p. 63 and p. 429.

[89] Gebhart.

[90] 'Probably early in the ninth century.'--Scherer.

[91] Burglechner. Pilger durch Tirol. Panzer. Mülhenhof.

[92] Lit. a 'cattle-breeding-farm.'

[93] It follows that (when mountain scenery is not the special object with the tourist) it is better to visit Viecht when staying at Schwatz (Chapters vi. and vii.) than from Jenbach, at least it is a much less toilsome ascent on this side from Viecht to S. Georgenberg, the most interesting point of the pilgrimage. At S. Georgenberg there is a good mountain inn.

[94] In his reign, 1440-90, it was that the silver-mines of Tirol were discovered; and the abundant influx, to the extent of 500 cwt. annually, of the precious metal into his treasury, led him to treat its stores as exhaustless; though the richest monarch of his time, his easy open-handed disposition continually led him into debt, and made his subjects finally induce him in his old age to resign in favour of his cousin, the Emperor Maximilian I. It is a token of the simplicity of the times, that one of the gravest reproaches against him was that he indulged in the luxury of silk stockings! He married Eleanor, daughter of James II. of Scotland.

[95] See infra in the Stubayerthal.

[96] In battle impetuous, yet merciful; in time of peace tranquil, and faithful to his country's laws; whether as a warrior, a subject, or an individual, worthy of honour as of love.

[97] Steward of the salt-mines.

[98] Johanniswürmchen, fire-flies.

[99] Peasants' war.

[100] Burglechner.

[101] Colin de Plancy, Légendes des sept pechés capitaux, Appendice; and Nork, Mythologie der Volkssagen, point out that the dragon, sacred to Wodin, was placed on houses, town gates, and belfries, as a talisman against evil influences. See also some remarks on the two-fold character of dragons in mythology in Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations, i. 428.

[102] Compare Leoprechting, Aus dem Lechrain, page 78. Müllenhof Sagen der Herzogthümer Schleswig Holstein u. Lauenburg, page 237.

[103] Mother of mercy.

[104] A touching story has been made out of his history in Alpen Blumen Tirols.

[105] This was designed so as to coincide with the time when the faithful throughout the world were saying the De Profundis.

[106] A similar fact for the comparative mythologist is recorded p. 123-4, in the case of the Bienerweible. While these sheets were preparing for the press, a singular one nearer home was brought under my notice. A little girl being asked at a national school examination, 'What David was before he was made king?' answered, 'Jack the Giant-killer.' This is a noteworthy instance of the hold of myths on the popular mind; it did not proceed from defective instruction, for the school is one of the very first in its reports, and the child not at all backward.

[107] Concerning der feurige Mann, and the mark of his burning hand, see Stöber Sagen des Elsasses, p. 222-3.

[108] At page 145.

[109] 'Feigen-Kaffee,' made of figs roasted and ground to powder, is sold throughout Austria.

[110] Aubrey de Vere's Greece and Turkey.

[111] Burglechner. A.D. 1409.

[112] Mineral wealth--lit. Mountain-blessing.

[113] I was told there that it had been reckoned that 500,000 cigars are smoked per diem in Tirol.

[114] The date of death on the tombstone of Lukas Hirtzfogel, whom tradition calls the architect of this church, is 1475.

[115] Brush for sprinkling holy-water.

[116] See note to p. 140.

[117] See p. 95.

[118] See note to p. 48.

[119] 'The most precious good,' or 'possession;' a Tirolean expression for the Blessed Sacrament.

[120] George of Freundsberg; a man of great strength; a worthy hero; master of the field in combat and war; in every battle the enemy fell before him. The honour and power he ascribed to God.

[121] Maundy Thursday.

[122] Stöber Sagen des Elsasses records a legend of a similar judgment befalling a man who, in fury at a long drought, shot off three arrows against heaven.

[123] Leichtsinnig.

[124] God prosper and bless you!

[125] Supra, pp. 80-2.

[126] Rout of the Bavarians.

[127] See pp. 151-2.

[128] Grimm (Deutsche Sagen, No. 492) gives an interesting legend of the Hasslacherbrunnlein (half way between Kolsass and Wattens) and of the resistance offered by the inhabitants of Tirol to the Roman invasion of their country.

[129] The suppression of this and several other convents, in 1783, was a measure sufficiently unpopular to almost neutralize the popularity Joseph II. enjoyed as son of Maria Theresa. The suppression was not, however, accompanied by spoliation; the funds were devoted to provide a moderate stipend to a number of women of reduced circumstances belonging to noble families.

[130] Stone of Obedience.

[131] I have met with another sprout of this banyan at the Monastery of the Sacro Speco in the Papal State, where a huge fragment of rock, so nicely balanced that it looks as if a breath might send it over the cliff, is pointed out as having stood still for centuries at the word of S. Benedict, who bid it 'non dannegiare i sudditi miei.'

[132] Wolf, Beiträge zur deutschen Mythologie, vol. ii. pp. 17-21. Müller, Niedersächsische Sagen, p. 51. Müllenhoff, Sagen der Herzogthümer Schleswig-Holstein u. Lanenburg, p. 184.

[133] So strong is the prejudice in Tirol against Jews, that it is said to be most difficult to find any one who will consent to act the part of Judas in the Passion plays.

There is a very strong personal dislike to Judas throughout Tirol, and I have also heard that the custom of burning him in effigy occurs in various places. Karl Blind, in the article quoted above, (p. 3,) accounts for this custom in the following way: 'After the appearance of fermenting matter it was said' (in what he calls the germanic mythology) 'that there rose in course of time--even as in Greek mythology--first a half-human, half-divine race of giants, and then a race of Gods; the Gods had to wage war against the giants and finally vanquished them. Evidently the giants represent a torpid barren state of things in nature, whilst the Gods signify the sap and fulness of life which struggles into distinct and beautiful form. There was a custom among the Germanic tribes of celebrating this victory over the uncouth Titans by a festival, when a gigantic doll was carried round in Guy Fawkes manner and at last burnt. To this day there are traces of the heathen practice. In some parts of Europe, so-called Judas-fires, which have their origin in the burning of the doll which represented the giants or jötun. In some places, owing to another perversion of things and words, people run about on that fête-day shouting 'burn the old Jew!' The jötun was in fact, when Christianity came in, first converted into Judas and then into a Jew, a transition to which the similarity of the sound of the words easily lent itself.' No doubt jötun sounds very like Juden but not all coincidences are consequences, and it is quite possible that the old heathen custom had quite died out before that of burning Judas in effigy began, as it certainly had before Guy Fawkes began to be so treated. The same treatment of Judas' memory occurs, too, in Spain on the day before Good Friday.

[134] S. Simeon of Trent is commemorated in the Roman Breviary (on the 25th March). S. Andreas of Rinn has not received this honour.

[135] Keller, in his Volkslieder, p. 242, gives an analogous legend of a poor idiot boy, who lived alone in the forest and was never heard to say any words but 'Ave Maria.' After his death a lily sprang up on his grave, on whose petals 'Ave Maria' might be distinctly read. It is a not unusual form of legend; Bagatta, Admiranda orbis Christiani, gives fifteen such.

[136] The ballad concerning the analogous English Legend of Hugh of Lincoln seems to demand to be remembered here:--

HUGH OF LINCOLN

(SHOWING THE CRUELTY OF A JEW'S DAUGHTER).

A' the boys of merry Lincoln, Were playing at the ba', And up it stands him, sweet Sir Hugh, The flower among them a'.

He kicked the ba' there wi' his feet, And keppit it wi' his knee, Till even in at the Jew's window, He gart the bonny ba' flee.

'Cast out the ba' to me, fair maid, Cast out the ba' to me;' 'Never a bit,' says the Jew's daughter, 'Till ye come up to me.'

'Come up, sweet Hugh! come up, dear Hugh! Come up and get the ba';' 'I winna come, I minna come, Without my bonny boys a'.'

She's ta'en her to the Jew's garden, Where the grass grew long and green; She's pu'd an apple red and white, To wyle the bonny boy in.

When bells were rung and mass was sung, And every bairn went home; Then ilka lady had her young son, But Lady Helen had none.

She row'd her mantle her about, And sair, sair, 'gan to weep: And she ran into the Jew's house When they were all asleep.

'The lead is wondrous heavy, mither, The well is wondrous deep; A keen penknife sticks in my heart, 'Tis hard for me to speak.'

'Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear, Fetch me my winding-sheet; And at the back of merry Lincoln, 'Tis there we twa shall meet.'

Now Lady Helen she's gane hame, Made him a winding-sheet; And at the back o' merry Lincoln, The dead corpse did her meet.

And a' the bells o' merry Lincoln Without men's hands were rung; And a' the books o' merry Lincoln, Were read without men's tongue; Never was such a burial Since Adam's days begun.

[137] There is a carriage-road reaching nearly to the top of the Lanserkopf.

[138] The best shops are in the Franziskanergruben.

[139] Grimm, Deutsche Sagen, No. 139.

[140] Under four pillars.

[141] See p. 69.

[142] Of the earlier history of Tirol we shall have to speak when we come to Schloss Tirol and Greifenstein.

[143] Consult Zoller, Geschichte der Stadt Innsbruck; and Staffler, das Deutsche Tirol.

[144] See p. 146.

[145] For the convenience of the visitor to Innsbruck, but not to interrupt the text, I subjoin here a list of the subjects. (1.) The marriage of Maximilian (then aged eighteen) with Mary of Burgundy at Ghent. (2.) His victory over the French at Guinegate, when he was twenty. (3.) The taking of Arras thirteen years later; not only are the fighting folk and the fortifications in this worthy of special praise, but there is a bit of by-play, the careful finish of which must not be overlooked; and the figure of one woman in particular, who is bringing provisions to the camp, is a masterpiece in itself. (4.) Maximilian is crowned King of the Romans. The scene is the interior of the Cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle: the Prince is seated on a sort of throne before the altar; the Electors are busied with their hereditary part in the ceremony; the dresses of the courtiers in the crowd, and the ladies high above in their tribune, are a perfect record for the costumier, so minute are they in faithfulness. (5.) The battle of Castel della Pietra, or Stein am Calliano, the landscape background of which is excellent; the Tirolese are seen driving the Venetians with great fury before them over the Etsch (Adige). (6.) Maximilian's entry into Vienna (1490), in course of the contest for the crown of Hungary after the death of Matthias Corvinus; the figure of Maximilian on his prancing horse is drawn with great spirit. (7.) The siege of Stuhlweissenburg, taken by Maximilian the same year; the horses in this tableau deserve particular notice. (8.) The eighth represents an episode which it must have required some courage to record among the acts of so glorious a reign; it shows Maximilian receiving back his daughter Margaret, when, in 1493, Charles VIII. preferred Anne of Brittany to her. The French envoys hand to the Emperor two keys, symbols of the suzerainty of Burgundy and Artois, the price of the double affront of sending back his daughter and depriving him of his bride, for Anne had been betrothed to him. [Margaret, though endowed with the high qualities of her race, was not destined to be fortunate in her married life: her hand was next sought by Ferdinand V. of Spain for his son Don Juan, who died very shortly after the marriage. She was again married, in 1508, to Philibert Duke of Savoy, who died without children three years later. As Governor of the Netherlands, however, her prudent administration made her very popular.] (9.) Maximilian's campaign against the Turks in Croatia. (10.) The League of Maximilian with Alexander VI., the Doge of Venice, and the Duke of Milan, against Charles VIII. of France; the four potentates stand in a palatial hall joining hands, and the French are seen in the background fleeing in dismay. (11.) The investiture at Worms of Ludovico Sforza with the Duchy of Milan. The portraits of Maximilian are well preserved on each occasion that he is introduced, but in none better than in this one: Maria Bianca is seen seated to the left of the throne, Sforza kneels before them; on the waving standard, which is the token of investiture, the ducal arms are plainly discernible. (12.) The marriage at Brussels, in 1496, of Philip der Schöne, Maximilian's son, with Juana of Spain; the Archbishop of Cambrai is officiating, Maximilian stands on the right side of his son: Charles Quint was born of this marriage. (13.) A victorious campaign in Bohemia in 1504. The 14th represents the episodes of the siege of Kufstein, recorded in the second chapter of these Traditions (1504). (15.) The submission of Charles d'Egmont to Maximilian, 1505. The Kaiser sits his horse majestically; the Duke of Gueldres stands with head uncovered; the battered battlements of the city are seen behind them. (16.) The League of Cambrai, 1508. The scene is a handsome tent in the camp near Cambray; Maximilian, Julius II., Charles VIII., and Ferdinand V., are supposed to meet, to unite in league against Venice. (17.) The Siege of Padua, 1509, the first result of this League; the view of Padua in the distance must have required the artist to have visited the place. (18.) The expulsion of the French from Milan, and reinstatement of Ludovico Sforza, 1512. (19.) The second battle of Guinegate: Maximilian fights on horseback; Henry VIII. leads the allied infantry, 1515. (20.) The conjunction of the Imperial and English forces before Terouenne: Maximilian and Henry are both on foot, 1513. (21.) The battle of Vicenza, 1513. (22.) The Siege of Marano, on the Venetian coast. The 23rd represents a noble hall at Vienna, such details as the pictures on the walls not being omitted: Maximilian is treating with Uladisaus, King of Hungary, for the double marriage of their offspring--Anna and Ludwig, children of the latter, with Ferdinand and Maria, grandchildren of the former--an alliance which had its consequence in the subsequent incorporation of Hungary with the Empire. (24.) The defence of Verona by the Imperial forces against the French and Venetians.

[146] Called by the French Philippe 'le Beau,' in distinction from their own 'Philippe le Bel.'

[147] This monument earned Ferdinand the title of the Lorenzo de' Medici of Tirol.

[148] St. Anthony being the patron invoked against accidents by fire; also against erisypelas, which in some parts of England even is called 'St. Anthony's fire.'

[149] Weber, Das Land Tirol, vol. i. p. 218.

[150] Zoller Geschickte der Stadt Innsbruck, p. 272; and Weiesegger, vol. vi. p. 61.

[151] I have met the same hyperbole in a piece of homely Spanish poetry.

[152] 'Now he knows how the just monarch is beloved of Heaven; his beaming countenance yet testifies his joy.'

[153] Nork, Mythologie der Volkssagen, p. 419.

[154] Exactly the story of the fisherman and the Genius in the copper vessel of the Arabian Nights. It is found also in Grimm's story of the Spirit in the bottle, in the Norse tale of the Master Smith; in that of the Lad and the Devil (Dasent); and in the Gaelic tale of the Soldier (Campbell).

[155] Von Alpenburg, Mythen u. Sagen Tirols.

[156] See pp. 194, 270, 324-5.

[157] They accepted their position with the usual Tirolese loyalty, and never attempted to found any claims to power on the circumstance of their birth.

[158] Holy Trinity Church.

[159] Patron saints against pestilence: viz. SS. Martha (because according to her legend she built a hospital and ended her life tending the sick), Sebastian (because a plague was stayed in Rome at his intercession), and Rocchus (because of the well-known legend of his self-devotion to the plague-stricken).

[160] Mentioned in the chapter on Vorarlberg, p. 23.

[161] Thirteen volumes were filled with the narrations of such 'answers' received between 1662 and 1665.

[162] Picture of Mary 'Help of Christians'--Auxilium Christianorum.

[163] Inglis says that Schor was the architect of this church, and that he had assisted in building the Vatican.

[164] It is painted on panel, thirty inches by twenty-one; the figure of our Lady is three quarter-length, but appears to be sitting, as the foot of the Divine Infant seems to rest upon her knee. The tradition concerning it is, that it represents an episode of the Flight into Egypt, when, as the Holy Family rested under a palm-grove, they were overtaken by a band of robbers, headed by S. Demas, the (subsequently) penitent thief. The Holy Child is indeed represented clinging to His Mother--not as in fear, or even as if need were to suggest courage to her, but simply as if an attack sustained in common impelled a closer union of affection.

[165] See pp. 123-4.

[166] She was on her way to Rome, where she spent the rest of her life. Alexander VII. commissioned Bernini to rebuild the Porta del Popolo, and adorned it with its inscription, Felici, faustoque ingressui, in honour of her entry.

[167] See p. 280.

[168] Kreidenfeuer--alarm fires, from Krei, a cry.

[169] A leading spiritualist, who has also a prominent position in the literary world, tells the story that one day he had missed his footing in going downstairs, and was within an ace of making as fatal a fall as Professor Phillips, when he distinctly felt himself seized, supported, and saved by an invisible hand. The analogy between the two convictions is curious.

[170] Consult Cesare Cantù Storia Universale, § xvii. cap. 21.

[171] Since writing the above, I have been assured by one who has frequently conversed with her, that the concealment of her name arose from her own modesty; it was Katharina Lanz. To avoid public notice, she went to live at a distance, and up to the time of her death in 1854, bore an exemplary character, living as housekeeper to the priest serving the mountain church of S. Vigilius, near Rost, the highest inhabited point of the Enneberg. When induced to speak of her exploits, she always made a point of observing that, though she brandished her hay-fork, she neither actually killed or wounded anyone. She had heard that the French soldiers were nothing loth to desecrate sacred places, and she stationed herself in the church porch determined to prevent their entrance; the churchyard had become the citadel of the villagers. From her post of observation she saw with dismay that her people were giving way. It was then she rushed out and rallied them; in her impetuosity she was very near running her hay-fork through a French soldier, but she was saved from the deed by her landlord, who, encouraged by her ardour, struck him down, pushing her aside. The success of her sally and her subsequent disappearance cast a halo of mystery round her story, and many were inclined to believe the whole affair was a heavenly apparition.

[172] Celebration of the Resurrection.

[173] Spare your bread for the poor, and escape the fate of Frau Hütt. See some legends forming a curious link between this, and that of Ottilia Milser in Stöber Sagen des Elsasses, pp. 257-8.

[174] The dog's church or chapel.

[175] His well-known daring, emulating that of the chamois and the eagle, was of no avail now; for straight under him sinks the Martin's Wall, the steepest cliff of the whole country-side.

He gazes down through that grave of clouds. He gazes abroad over that cloud-ocean. He glances around, and his gaze recoils.

With only the thunder-roll of the people's voices beneath, there stands the Kaiser's Majesty. But not raised aloft to receive his people's homage. A son of sorrow, on a throne of air, the great Maximilian all at once finds himself isolated, horror-stricken, and small.

[176] 'With him,' says a Hungarian ballad, 'Righteousness went down into the grave: and the Sun of Pest-Ofen sank towards its setting.'

[177] Primisser, who took great pains to collect all the various traditions of this event, mentions a favourite huntsman of the Emperor, named Oswald Zips, whom he ennobled as Hallaurer v. Hohenfelsen. This may have been the actual deliverer, or may have been supposed to be such, from the circumstance of the title being Hohenfelsen, or Highcliff; and that a patent of nobility was bestowed on a huntsman would imply that he had rendered some singular service: the family, however, soon died out.

[178] See chapter on Schwatz.

[179] To the Editor of the 'Monthly Packet.'

Sir,--I think it possible that R. H. B. (to whom we owe the very interesting Traditions of Tirol), and perhaps others of your readers, may care to hear some of the particulars, as they are treasured by his family, of the defence of Scharnitz by Baron Swinburne. R. H. B. speaks of it in your number of last month. That defence was so gallant as to call forth the respect and admiration even of his enemies, and Baron Swinburne was given permission to name his own terms of surrender.

He requested for himself, and those under him, that they might be allowed to retain their swords. This was granted, and the prisoners were sent to Aix-la-Chapelle, where everyone was asking in astonishment who were 'les prisonniers avec l'épée a côté.'

The Eagles of Austria, that had been so nobly defended by the Englishman and his little band, never fell into the hands of the French. One of the Tirolese escaped, with the colours wrapped round his body under his clothes, and though he was hunted among the mountains for months, he was never taken; and some years after he came to his commander in Vienna and gave him the colours he had so bravely defended. They are now in possession of Baron Edward Swinburne, the son of the defender of Scharnitz, who himself won, before he was eighteen, the Order of 'the Iron Crown,' by an act that well deserves to be called 'a golden deed;' and ere he was twenty he had led his first and last forlorn hope, when he received so severe a wound as to cost him his leg, which has incapacitated him for further service.

His father received the highest military decoration of Austria, that of 'Maria Teresa;' he fought at Austerlitz and Wagram; on the latter occasion he was severely wounded. Later in life, he was for many years Governor of Milan.

Hoping that a short record of true and faithful services performed by Englishmen for their adopted country, may prove of some interest to your readers, and with many thanks to R. H. B. for what has been of so much interest to us,

I am, Sir, yours faithfully,

September, 1870. A. Swinburne.

[180] Häusergruppe.

[181] Such offerings are met with in other parts of Tirol; in one place we shall find a candle offered of equal weight to an infant's body. They present a striking analogy with the Sanskrit tulâdâna or weight-gift; the practice of offering to a temple or Buddhist college a gift of silver or even gold of the weight of the offerer's body appears not to have been infrequent and tolerably ancient. Lassen (Indische Alterthumskünde, vol. iii. p. 810) mentions an instance of the revival of the custom by a king named Shrikandradeva, who offered the weight of his own body in gold to the temple at Benares (circa 1025); and (vol. iv. p. 373) another in which Aloungtsethu, King of Birmah, in 1101, made a similar offering in silver to a temple which he built at Buddhagayâ. He refers also to earlier instances 'in H. Burney's note 19 in As. Res. vol. xx. p. 177, and one by Fell in As. Res. vol. xv. p. 474.'

[182] I have occasion to give one of the most remarkable legends of the Oetzthal in the chapter on Wälsch-Tirol.

[183] See a somewhat similar version in Nork's Mythologie der Volksagen, pp. 895-7.

[184] Circle.

[185] The sunnier and less thoughtful tone of mind in which the Italian particularly differs from the German character, is often to be traced in their legendary stories. Those of the Germans are nearly always made to convey some moral lesson; this is as often wanting in those of the Italians, who seem satisfied with making them means of amusement, without caring that they should be a medium of instruction.

[186] The Passion Plays of the Brixenthal, however, are reckoned the best. The performers gather and rehearse in the spring, and go round from village to village through the summer months, only, as amphitheatres are improvised in the open.

[187] It may be worth mentioning, as an instance of how the contagion of popular customs is transmitted, that on enquiring into some very curious grotesque ceremonies performed in Trent at the close of the carneval, and called its 'burial,' I learnt that it did not appear to be a Tirolean custom, but had been introduced by the soldiers of the garrison who, for a long time past, had been taken from the Slave provinces of the Austrian Empire, and thus a Slave popular custom has been grafted on to Tirol. Wälsch-Tirol, however, has its own customs for closing the carneval, too. In some places it is burnt in effigy; in some, dismissed with the following dancing-song (Schnodahüpfl) greeting,

Evviva carneval! Chelige manca ancor el sal; El carneval che vien Lo salerem più ben!

[188] A centenary celebration of the Council was held at Trent in 1863, at which the late lamented Cardinal von Reisach presided as legate a latere.

[189] This chapel has lately been restored by Loth of Munich.

[190] A variant of this tradition takes the more usual form of applying it to the architect of the edifice, as with the Kremlin. As Stöber gives it from Strasburg, it was there the maker of the great clock.

[191] Laste is dialectic for a smooth, steep, almost inaccessible chalk cliff.

[192] Hence Kaiser Max was wont to call Tirol 'the heart' and 'the shield' of his empire.

[193] St. Ingenuin was Bishop of Säben or Seben, A.D. 585. The See, founded by St. Cassian, had been long vacant, and great errors and abuses had taken root among the people, who in some places had relapsed towards heathen customs. His success in reforming the manners of his flock was most extraordinary. He built a cathedral at Seben, where he is honoured on February 5, the anniversary of his death. St. Albuin, one of his successors, was a scion of one of the noblest families of Tirol; he removed the See to Brixen, A.D. 1004.

[194] This is a local application of the widespread myth of the tailor, who kills 'seven at one blow,' identified by Vonbun (p. 71-2) with the Sage of Siegfried. Prof. Zarncke has also written a great deal to show Tirol's place in the Nibelungenlied.

[195] Anciently Anaunium, and still by local scholars called Annaunia, a possession of the Nonia family, not unknown to Roman history.

[196] The white mulberry, whose leaves feed the silkworm, rearing which forms one great industry of Wälsch-Tirol, is called the Seidenbaum, the silk tree.

[197] Stammort, Cradle of his race.

[198] See Un processo di Stregheria in Val Camonica, by Gabriele Rosa, pp. 85, 92; and Il vero nelle scienze occulte, by the same author, p. 43; and Tartarotti Congresso delle Lammie. lib. ii. § iv. It is one of the only four such spots anywhere existing where Italian is spoken.

[199] A mithraic sacrifice with several figures, sculptured in bas-relief, in white Carrara marble, in very perfect preservation, bearing the inscription:

ILDA MARIVS L. P.

has just been found at this very spot.

[200] See pp. 164-6.

[201] Too many such remnants, which the plough and the builder's pick are continually unearthing, have been thus dispersed. It has been the favourite work of Monsignor Zanelli, of Trent, to stir up the local authorities to take account of such things, and so form a museum with them in Trent.

[202] Padre Tarquini--one of the rare instances of a Jesuit being made a Cardinal--died, it may be remembered, in February last, only about two months after his elevation. He had devoted much time to the study of Etruscan antiquities; he published The Mysteries of the Etruscan Language Unveiled in 1857, and later a Grammar of the language of the Etruscans.

[203] '(1.) Or it might be 'ad introductionem viri.' (2.) 'Vulcano' here (precisely as in another Etruscan inscription found a few years before at Cembra, and translated by Professor Giovanelli) for 'ignis.' (3.) An allusion to the custom of first piercing (sforacchiare) the bodies of persons to be burnt in sacrifice, which appears from the inscription found at S. Manno, near Perugia, and again from the appearance of the figures of human victims represented in the Tomba Vulcente. (4.) The deity of the place to which the key belonged, probably, therefore, Saturn.'

[204] A Tag-mahd, or 'day's mowing,' is a regular land measure in North Tirol.

[205] There is no record of her summit ever having been attained before the successful ascent of Herr Grohmann, in 1864. Mr. Tucker, an Englishman, accomplished it the next year.

[206] I have given some of the most curious of these in a collection of Household Stories from the Land of Hofer.

[207] There is no tradition more universally spread over Tirol than that which tells of judgments falling on non-observers of days of rest. They are, however, by no means confined to Tirol. Ludovic Lalanne, Curiosités des Traditions, vol. iv. p. 136, says that the instances he had collected showed it was treated as a fault most grievous to heaven. 'Matthieu Paris, à l'année 1200, raconte qu'une pauvre blanchisseuse ayant osé travailler un jour de fête fut punie d' une étrange façon; un cochon de lait tout noir s'attacha à sa mamelle gauche.' He relates one or two other curious instances--one of a young girl who, having insisted on working on a holiday, somehow got the knot of her thread twisted into her tongue, and every attempt to remove it gave intolerable pain. Ultimately she was healed by praying at the Lady-altar at Noyon, and here the knot of thread was long shown in the sacristy.

I well remember the English counterpart in my own nursery. There were, indeed, two somewhat analogous stories; and I often wondered, without exactly daring to ask, why there was so much difference in the tone in which they were told, for the one seemed to me as good as the other. The first, which used to be treated as an utter imposture, was that a woman and her son surreptitiously obtained a consecrated wafer for purposes of incantation (we have had a Tirolean counterpart of this at Sistrans, supra pp. 221-2), and in pursuit of their weird operation had pierced it, when there flowed thereout such a prodigious stream of blood that the whole place was inundated, and all the people drowned. The second, which was told with something of seriousness in it, ('and they say, mind you, that actually happened,') was of a young lady who, having persisted in working on Sunday in spite of all her nurse's injunctions, pricked her finger. No one could stop the bleeding that ensued, and she bled to death for a judgment; and whether it was true or not, there was a monument to her in Westminster Abbey. Dean Stanley, who seems to have missed nothing that could possibly be said about the Abbey, finds place, I see, to notice even this tradition (pp. 219-20 and note), and identifies it with the monument of Elizabeth Russell (born 1575) in St. Edmund's Chapel. Madame Parkes-Belloc tells me she has often seen a wax figure of a lady (in the costume of two centuries later than Elizabeth Russell) under a glass case in Gosfield Hall, Essex (formerly a seat of the Buckingham family), of which a similar tradition is told.

[208] It is significant of a symbolical intention that the story should thus allude to the Valle del Orco; the more so as I cannot hear of any such actual locality in Val Sugana, though 'Orco' has lent his name to more than one spot, as we shall see later. There is, however, a Val d'Inferno between this valley and Predazzo.

[209] Settepergole--Seven Pergolas--the name of several farms in Wälsch-Tirol. Pergola is the name for a vine trellised to form an arbour, all over Italy.

[210] This effect has often been noticed here by travellers.

[211] Two bronze statuettes of Apollo were found here in June 1869.

[212] Very like and very unlike the legend of S. Giuliano I met in Rome (Folklore of Rome), where he was supposed to be a native of Albano, and to have passed his penitential time at Compostella. G. Schott, Wallächische Märchen, pp. 281 and 375, gives a similar legend applied to Elias in place of St. Julian.

[213] Folklore of Rome, p. 320.

[214] I need not repeat the characteristics of the Tirolean Norg, which I have given in the translation of the 'Rose-garden' in Household Stories from the Land of Hofer.

[215] Thorp's Northern Mythology, vol. ii. pp. 20-2.

[216] Though of course mere similarity of sound may lead one absurdly astray; as if any one were to say that the old fables of rubbing a ring to produce the 'Slave of the ring' was the origin of the modern substitute of ringing to summon a servant!

[217] Again, Mr. Cox (Mythology of the Aryan Nations, vol. ii. p. 221 et seq.) says, 'the Maruts or storm winds who attend on Indra ... became the fearful Ogres in the traditions of Northern Europe ... they are the children of Rudra, worshipped as the destroyer and reproducer and ... like Hermes, as the robber, the cheat, the deceiver, the master thief.'

[218] Etruscan Researches, p. 376 and note.

[219] Stöber, Sagen des Elsasses, p. 30.

[220] Cities of Etruria, vol. ii. p. 65-8.

[221] Selvan, at all events, is a word which, Mr. Isaac Taylor observes, is of frequent occurrence in Etruscan inscriptions (Et. Res. pp. 394-5), and its signification has not yet been fixed. And may not Gannes have some relation with Kan or Khan (p. 322)?

[222] It is very disappointing that he has translated the great bulk of his vast collection of fiabe ('fiaba' in North Italian answers to the 'favola' of Rome) so utterly into German that, though we find all our old friends among them, all the distinctive expressions are translated away, and they are rendered valueless for all but mere childish amusement. Thus it is interesting to find in Wälsch-Tirol a diabolical counterpart of the Roman story of 'Pret' Olivo,' but it would have rendered it infinitely more interesting had the collector told us what was the word which he translates by 'Teufel,' for it is the rarest thing in the world for an Italian to bring the personified 'Diavolo' or 'Demonio' into any light story. In the same way it is interesting to find all the other tales with which we are familiar turn up here, but the real use of printing them at length would have been to point out their characteristics. What was the Italian used for the words rendered in the German by 'Witch?' Was it 'Gannes' or 'strega?' or for 'Giant' and 'Wild man:' was it 'l'om salvadegh' or 'salvan' or 'orco?' I cannot think it was 'gigante.' But all is left to conjecture. Among the few bits of Italian he does give are two or three 'tags' to stories, among them the one I met so continually in Rome 'Larga la foglia'--(it was still 'foglia' and not 'voglia') word for word.

[223] Dr. Steub, in his Herbsttagen in Tirol, shows that the Beatrick may be identified with Dietrich von Bern.

[224] Though nothing would seem simpler than to suppose the word derived from the Euganean inhabitants who left their name to Val Sugana.

[225] It is curious to observe the story pass through all the stages of the supernatural agency traditional in the locality; first the good genius of the Etruscans merging next into the Germanic woodsprite, then assuming the vulgar characteristics of later imaginings about witchcraft, and then the Christian teaching 'making use of it,' as Professor de Gubernatis says, 'for its own moral end.'

[226] A collection of the 'Costumi' of Tuscany I have, without a title-page, but I think published about 1835, laments the growing disuse in Lunigiana (i.e. the country round the Gulf of Spezia, so called from Luna, an Etruscan city, but 'not one of the twelve,' and including Carrara, Lucca, and Pisa) of the practice of recounting popular traditions at the Focarelli there. These seem to be autumn evening gatherings round a fire, but in the open air, often on a threshing-floor; while the able-bodied population is engaged in the preparation of flax, and some are spinning, the boys and girls dance, wrestle, and play games, and the old crones gossip; but now, says the writer, they begin to occupy themselves only with scandalous and idle reports, instead of old-world lore.

[227] My readers will perhaps not recognize at first sight that this is a corruption of Frau Bertha, the Perchtl whom we met in North Tirol. In the Italian dialects of the Trentino she is also called la brava Berta and la donna Berta.

[228] 'Your servant! Mistress Bertha of the long nose.' Such was supposed to be the correct form of addressing the sprite.

[229] Many of these concern the earthly wanderings of Christ and his apostles. I have given one of the most sprightly and characteristic of Schneller's, too long to be inserted here, in The Month for September, 1870, entitled 'The Lettuce-leaf Barque.'

[230] Gathered for the above-named collection by Herr Zacchea of the Fassathal, in the Val di Non, Lederthal, and Val Arsa.

[231] I have mentioned the only other wolf-stories that I have met with in the chapter on Excursions round Meran; and at p. 31 of this volume.

[232] Cox's Aryan Mythology, vol. i. p. 405.

[233] I have thought this one of the best specimen tales, as the two stories of the Three Wishes and the Three Faithful Beasts are leading ones in every popular mythology. I have named a good many variants in connexion with their counterparts in the Folklore of Rome, and a more extensive survey of them, together with a most interesting analysis of their probable origin, will be found in Cox's Mythology of Aryan Nations, vol. i. pp. 144 and 375. I had thought that these, being strung together in the text version, was owing to a freak of memory of some narrator who, having forgotten the original conclusion of the former story, takes the latter one into it; but, curiously enough, in the note to the last-named page of Mr. Cox's work, he happens actually to establish an intrinsic identity of origin in the two stories. The Three Wishes story has also a strangely localized home in the Oetzthal, which, though properly belonging to the division of North Tirol, I prefer to cite here, for the sake of its analogies. Its particular home is in the so-called Thal Vent, on the frozen borders of the Gletscher described by Weber, as appalling to a degree in its loneliness, and in the roaring of its torrents, and the stern rugged inaccessibility of its peaks. Here, he says, three Selige Fräulein (Weber, like Schneller, translates everything inexorably into German; this may have been an Enguana) have their abode in a sumptuous subterranean palace, which no mortal might reach. They are also called die drei Feyen, he says, forming a further identification with the normal legend, but he does not account for the penetration of the French word into this unfrequented locality. They were kind and ancillary to the poor mountain folk, but the dire enemies of the huntsman, for he hunted as game the creatures who were their domestic animals (here we have the nucleus of a heap of various tales and legends of the pet creatures of fairies and hermits becoming the intermediaries of supernatural communication). The Thal Vent legend proceeds that a young shepherd once won the regard of the drei Feyen; they fulfilled all his wishes, and gave him constant access to their palace under the sole condition that he should never reveal its locality to any huntsman. After some years the youth one day incautiously let out the secret to his father, and from thenceforth the drei Feyen were inexorable in excluding him from their society. He pleaded and pleaded all in vain, and ultimately made himself a huntsman in desperation. But the first time he took aim at one of their chamois, the most beautiful of the three fairies appeared to him in so brilliant a light of glory, that he lost all consciousness of his actual situation and fell headlong down the precipice.

[234] They are called 'Lustige Geschichte,' 'Storielle da rider.' The Germans have a saying that 'in jeder Sage haftet eine Sache;' the 'Sache' is perhaps more hidden in these than in others. I have pointed out counterparts of the following at Rome and elsewhere in Folklore of Rome.

[235] Capitello, in Wälsch-Tirol, is the same as Bildstöcklein in the German provinces--a sacred image in a little shrine.

[236] Bears exist to the present day in Tirol. Seven were killed last year. A prize of from five-and-twenty to fifty florins is given for killing one by various communes.

[237] A distinct remnant of Etruscan custom. It is singular, too, that Mr. I. Taylor finds 'faba' to have been taken by the Romans from the Etruscans for a bean, but though the custom of connecting beans with the celebration of the departed is common all over Italy, I do not think the Etruscans provided their dead with beans except along with all other kinds of food (supra p. 130-1 note).

[238] The little book of Costumi spoken of above, mentions the 'Zocco del Natale' as in use also in Lunigiana; it is generally of olive-tree, and household auguries are drawn from the crackling of leaves and unripe berries. It cites a letter of a certain Giovanni da Molta, dated 1388, showing that the custom has not undergone much change in five hundred years.

[239] Two travellers, two prosperous ones, and a cardinal?--Answer. Sun and moon; earth and heaven; and the ocean.

[240] There is a meadow overblown with carnations, yet if the Pope came with all his court, not one sole carnation would he be able to carry off?--Answer. The heaven beaming with stars.

[241] Plate upon plate; a man fully armed; a lady well dressed; a stud well appointed?--Answer. Heaven and earth; the sun; the moon; the stars.

[242] There is a palace with twelve rooms; each room has thirty beams, and two are ever running after each other through them without ever catching each other?--Answer. The palace is the year, the rooms the months, the beams the days, and day and night are always following each other without overlapping.

[243] The simplicity of the people of this valley is celebrated in many 'Men of Gotham' stories.

[244] Dennis, Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, vol. 1, pp. xxxiv-v, mentions the Etruscan remains that had been found at Mattrey (of which he gives a cut) and other places in Tirol up to his time.

[245] It is noteworthy that so prominent an enquirer into Etruscan antiquities should bear a patronymic so connected with Etruria as Tarquini.

[246] In Abbé Dubois' introduction to his translation of the Pantcha Tantra, is a story called 'La fille d'un roi changé en garçon,' in which mention is made of a Brahman hermit who fixed his residence in a hollow tree.