Part 17 (2/2)
[Ill.u.s.tration: A SOUTH TYROL FARMSTEAD]
Numbers of artists pause at Bozen yearly on their way south into Italy via Verona to study the rich treasures in the galleries of the cities of Northern Italy, or to rest awhile on their return journey northwards. In Bozen is plenty to paint and plenty to admire, and the townsfolk are noted for the hospitality which still (notwithstanding the great influx of tourists of late years) distinguishes the frank and warm-hearted people of Tyrol in general.
[Sidenote: BOZEN PARISH CHURCH]
Chief amongst the buildings which will attract one's attention stands the Pfarrkirche or Parish Church, which with its elegant tower and open spire, over two hundred feet in height, forms a monument to the artistic and constructive skill of its Swabian builder Johann Lutz in the first years of the sixteenth century. The church is splendidly situated at one corner of the fine open Waltherplatz, which is planted with shady horse-chestnut trees, and, its roof of copper-green tiles set in a pattern, contrasts admirably with its walls and spire of red sandstone. In ancient times the building possessed two spires, both of which were destroyed or so injured as to necessitate their pulling down long before Lutz built his elegant structure. The church itself, which contains a fine altar-piece by a pupil of t.i.tian, and a remarkable stone pulpit dating about the first decade of the sixteenth century, is, in the main, fourteenth-century work, although it was not actually finished until the third decade of the fifteenth, so some authorities state.
In the centre of the Johann Platz stands a fine though simply conceived statue to Walther von der Vogelweide who was born about 1160 at Lajen, near Waidbruck, in which the poet is shown standing clad in a loose robe, with a biretta-like cap on his head and his hands crossed whilst holding a lute. The statue is the work of the late Heinrich Natter, one of the most famous of native sculptors, who was also the artist of the famous Berg Isel Hofer Monument, of the very finely conceived and well-executed statue of Ulrich Zwingli at Zurich, and many other works.
One of the most charming of Bozen streets is undoubtedly the Laubenga.s.se, which greatly resembles the main street of Meran, with its shady arcades on either side under which the shops are situated, and where one can promenade and do one's shopping protected from the sun in summer and the rain in winter. The Karnerga.s.se and Silberga.s.se are interesting streets, as is also the Goethestra.s.se leading to the fruit market, where one finds during market hours many interesting types of peasants from the neighbouring villages as well as of the townsfolk themselves. We saw some of the most gorgeous of kerchiefs worn over the shoulders and crossed over the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of Bozen or Gries fruit-sellers, which gave an air of quite southern colour and brightness to the little Platz, in which oranges, almonds, melons, figs, and even p.r.i.c.kly pears were displayed for sale with all the other fruits one might expect to find, including magnificent cherries in the earlier part of the fruit season.
The costumes of the Sarnthal with the big, broad-brimmed felt hats worn by both men and women, and the gay ”k.u.mmerbunds” of the men worn under short ”Eton”-shaped jackets, are also seen in Bozen on festive occasions.
The Museum, in which there are many interesting exhibits, including some old peasant costumes well worth the attention of artists, is an imposing building or ”block” in the Konigin Elizabethstra.s.se, with corner turrets and an imposing central tower.
Of the more picturesque and older buildings none excels in charm the Franciscan Monastery and Church in the Franziskanerga.s.se. The courtyard, shaded by trees which throw a diaper of shadow and sunlight on the paving stones, with the delicately pretty porch leading into the church, is a spot of sheer delight for the artist and the dreamer of dreams; who there, amid the quietude of ancient things, can the better conjure up visions of other days when Bozen streets rang to the pa.s.sing of armies, and men at arms, and in them were heard the cries of mediaeval merchants selling their wares drawn from north and south.
In the Franciscan Church there is a fine altar, and belonging to the Monastery there are some beautiful cloisters. The library, too, should not be overlooked by those interested in early books and similar treasures.
On the outskirts of pleasant Bozen, a fine view of which is obtained from the Calvarienberg, there are many charming excursions. Towards the west lies the finely situated Castle of Sigmundskron on a hill between mountains overlooking the river in which there is good fis.h.i.+ng: the Mendel Pa.s.s, 4500 feet, ascended either on foot, by carriage or by the mountain railway; Tisenser Mittelgebirge, studded with most interesting ruins, and from whence one obtains extensive and beautiful views of the surrounding mountain chains and of Meran.
[Sidenote: CASTLE OF RUNKELSTEIN]
Towards the north lies the deeply interesting Imperial Castle of Runkelstein, which, dating from the middle half of the thirteenth century, was extensively restored in 1884-88, and finally presented by the Emperor of Austria to the town of Bozen. Situated upon and almost entirely covering a huge ma.s.s of rock, it overlooks a bend of the swiftly flowing Talfer, and occupies one of those commanding and almost inaccessible positions beloved of builders in the Middle Ages.
The Castle, irrespective of its interests as an architectural survival of a long past age, is much visited on account of the famous frescoes which are contained in a building now known as the Summer House. As one climbs up the steep and narrow path to the castle drawbridge one can the better realize how safe the ancient owners (who were not above raiding the neighbourhood, and of engaging in predatory warfare with their neighbours) must have felt when they had once heard their iron-studded door clang behind them, and seen the ancient drawbridge swung up by its chains.
Till the introduction of artillery, indeed, such a fastness would have been practically impregnable.
The frescoes to which we have referred are especially interesting from the fact that they undoubtedly exhibit a very primitive art. At the time they are supposed to have been painted, that is to say towards the end of the fourteenth century, art even in its home, Italy, was in a comparatively elementary and even grotesque stage of evolution.
The figures, which are black with a pea-green background, are, as an American girl said, ”Noah's arkical and too funny for words,” though we are bound to confess that the irreverence of the remark deeply offended a wors.h.i.+pper of mediaeval art who was of the party. The paintings in the first room depict a German version of the story of Tristan and Isolde, which would appear to diverge materially from the one of Sir Thomas Malory, as set out in the ”Morte d'Arthur.” The main story can, however, be easily followed.
In the second chamber the frescoes, which were a very common form of decoration at the period at which they were done and should not be considered in the light of being of especial significance, depict a complete version of the legendary story of Garel, following the version of a Styrian[17] thirteenth century poet named Pleier. It is generally considered that this Garel was founded upon or was identical with the character of the Gareth or Beaumains of the ”Morte d'Arthur,”
although the evidence is not absolutely conclusive. To English people the fine fresco of the famous Knights of the Round Table sitting in company with King Arthur and Queen Guinevere will naturally be of the greatest interest, although each of the quaint drawings to ill.u.s.trate the mediaeval legend has an abiding fascination for all to whom the past is of moment.
Nor are the outside walls of this quaint pavilion left unadorned. On them are single figures and others in groups of two and three depicting well-known mediaeval personages of historical and legendary note: Tristan and Isolde; William of Orleans and Amelie; William, Duke of Austria, and Aglei; pairs of lovers whose fame has outlived the centuries; the three hero kings of ancient Christendom, Arthur of England, the Emperor Charlemagne, and G.o.dfrey de Bouillon. Amongst the large number of figures here depicted may also be seen other groups of three comprising celebrated knights, dwarfs, giants, and other real, mythical, or legendary characters; a gallery of portraits which has probably no equal in any other castle in the world. The story of the deeds of the characters thus immortalized would fill many volumes, and provide some of the most romantic and interesting reading imaginable.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ST. CYPRIAN AND THE PEAKS OF THE ROSENGARTEN]
One quits the historic spot with a sense of the greatness of the past as well as with a lingering regret that nothing after all can adequately conjure up for one the stirring scenes, strenuous and vividly ”coloured” life, romance and chivalry, that the walls and rooms of Runkelstein must have witnessed.
In an easterly direction from Bozen lies the Eggenthal and its famous waterfall. The road through the former is one of great picturesqueness and grandeur--along the hillsides, across high bridges, and through gorge-like rock cuttings, which to be fully appreciated cannot be travelled better than a-foot. In the same direction, too, lies the beautiful Karrersee, surrounded by its belt of sombre pines above whose feathery tops s.h.i.+ne the rocky peaks and snow-clad summits of the Dolomite giants.
[Sidenote: THE ROSENGARTEN]
From Bozen, too, the famous Rosengarten, which lies to the east of the town, should be visited. But it is not a garden of roses after all, but a collection of stupendous and rocky peaks which blush red at sunset. Those who expect flowers other than alpen rosen, gentian, and the like, will be disappointed, as was the young lady who undertook the excursion in the hope of seeing roses galore such as one may find in the ”attar” districts of the Balkan Provinces and especially in Bulgaria.
But if from Bozen one looks merely for the rosy hue to tint the skyward-piercing pinnacles of rock, which have been poetically called the ”Rosengarten,” or rambles in the picturesque and beautiful valleys and tiny defiles at their feet, one will not be disappointed. And the ”roses,” like other similar phenomena, are in a sense a weather gla.s.s; the deeper the red they glow the finer the ensuing day. At first a plum-hued twilight, such as one gets in the Maloja valley, seems to fall down out of the sky, and then the mountain peaks commence to receive their baptism of crimson. Then at last, as the sun sinks behind the interposing Guntschna Berg, only the highest peaks continue for a short time longer to glow with increasing, and then fading, depth of colour, till at length the plum-bloom shadows conquer the ”roses” and the cool twilight comes.
The origin of the descriptive phrase ”the Rosengarten” is (so far as we have been able to discover) lost in the mists of antiquity. But there is a rather pretty legend concerning the Garden itself. Long ago (the story tells us), when men were perhaps happier and certainly less sophisticated and cynical than they are now, and believed in fairies, gnomes, and magic, there lived a dwarf named Laurin or Laurenz reigning over the other dwarfs, who inhabited a country in the centre of the Schlern. By some means or other this dwarf managed to see and fall in love with the beautiful, golden-haired sister of a retainer of Dietrich of Bern, in Switzerland. After having seized her he bore her to his palace of crystal in the interior of the mountains, and there kept her prisoner. Soon, however, the brave and gallant knight Dietrich, and his squire, who was named Dietlieb, determined to rescue the abducted maiden, and for this purpose they came up from Italy where they were at the time, and finding an opening entered the Schlern, and after a fierce fight succeeded in conquering the dwarf, notwithstanding the fact that of course the latter was a.s.sisted by a magician. Laurin was not, however, killed, but spared by Dietrich at the request of Dietlieb. It was unfortunate clemency, however, as Laurin, professing himself grateful and offering them refreshment after their labours and fight, gave them drugged wine, so that when they awoke they discovered that they had been bound and cast into a dungeon of the dwarf's castle. From this predicament they were happily freed by Dietlieb's sister, Simild, and after another fierce encounter with the dwarfs they defeated them, and trod the famous Rosengarten roses underfoot, their places being taken by those that bloom at sunset upon the peaks above the site of Laurin's mythical palace.
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