In today’s Kiebachgasse, at the intersection with Seilergasse, was once Innsbruck’s nightlife hotspot of bygone days. Although there were small animal pens within the city walls, the name “Vier-Viecher-Eck” (Four-Beasts Corner) did not refer to animals. Early in Innsbruck’s history, taverns settled here. If you position yourself well today, you can spot the four beautiful historic signs at a glance. The inns Goldener Löwe (Golden Lion), Goldener Hirsch (Golden Stag), Roter Adler (Red Eagle), and Weißes Rössl (White Horse), which gave the place its name, were important resting spots for travelers and merchants near the goods loading area in front of the Ballhaus. Even less affluent residents spent their evenings in these taverns. Homes were not suitable for gatherings, as there was hardly any space to host guests. While dining out today is considered a privilege, in the Middle Ages it was mainly people of questionable reputation who enjoyed food and lodging in taverns. Those who could afford it had staff, a pantry, a kitchen, and candlelight at home; those without money went to one of the dives. There were no individual tables or menus—people ate whatever was served. Respectable citizens or even aristocrats could not and would not risk being seen with foreigners, vagabonds, and riffraff. Accordingly, the Vier-Viecher-Eck was considered a disreputable alley.

The bad reputation is long gone, and the houses of the Vier-Viecher-Eck have survived in one form or another. The Gasthaus zum Goldenen Löwen was renovated in the 19th century, trading its Gothic appearance for a façade in the historicist style of the time. The Weißes Rössl remains one of the city’s most popular traditional inns to this day. Not only tourists but also locals enjoy schnitzel, cheese spaetzle, and more here. The Goldener Hirsch, however, ceased operating as an inn after nearly 400 years. Besides the sign, an inscription on the façade of the Gothic building still recalls its time as a member of the Four-Beasts gang. The Roter Adler was remodeled in 1920 into its current form, which hardly matches the rest of the old town. The restaurant inside closed three years later after a change of ownership:

"As the N. Ztg. (note: Neue Zeitung) learns, the well-known inn "Roter Adler", Kiebachgasse, has been sold to the wholesale company Schifferegger, Ischia u. Co. by the previous owner Rindfleisch, who recently acquired the neighbouring hotel "Goldener Adler". The new owners are planning to close the pub."

The Ischia family still operates the Altstadthotel Das Innsbruck directly opposite. Unfortunately, the Roter Adler lost its street sign during the last renovations. As a substitute, the Goldener Adler, visible at the end of Kiebachgasse, now serves as the fourth “beast.”

Beyond the gastronomic Four Beasts, this corner of Innsbruck was lively in other ways. The street names still hint at the artisanal and commercial past, when guilds shaped Innsbruck’s social fabric. In Schlossergasse, alongside metalworking on the edge of the old town, the city’s brothel was located—strategically positioned on the then city outskirts to grant discreet access to visiting travelers, virtuous clergymen, honorable soldiers, eager students, and respectable citizens. A traveling merchant praised Innsbruck for the “…high quality of its inns, wine, and women.” Today’s Seilergasse was once known as Fleischergasse because it led to the meat market near the Inn Bridge. At its end stood the Frauen- or Pickentor, now remembered only by a small plaque. Before the relocation of the princely residence to the Neuhof under Friedrich IV, Kiebachgasse was Innsbruck’s main street. Merchants entering the city from the south reached the Ballhaus via Ballgasse, where goods were unloaded. Over time, Kiebachgasse was known by several names: Ballhausgasse, Rindergasse, or Schulgasse were common. The street’s current name honors Josef Kiebach (1829–1875), who inherited a small fortune and left it to the city’s poor fund upon his death. Firewood for the poorest and the construction of a public kitchen were among the uses of the Kiebach bequest, along with donations to the fire brigade and the St. Vincent Society. Shortly after his death, the small alley in the old town was named after Kiebach.

During the Middle Ages, Innsbruck officially developed into a city. Formal recognition by the territorial prince in 1239 brought with it an entirely new system for its citizens. Market rights, building rights, customs rights, and an independent jurisdiction were gradually transferred to the city. Urban citizens were no longer subject to their feudal lord, but to the city’s jurisdiction—at least within the city walls. The well-known saying “city air makes one free” derives from the fact that after one year of residence in the city, a person was released from all obligations to their former lord. Unlike unfree peasants and servants, citizens could freely dispose of their property and determine their way of life. Naturally, they also had rights and obligations. Citizens did not pay tithes, but instead paid taxes to the city. Which group within the city was required to pay which taxes could be determined by the city government itself. The city, in turn, did not have to pass these taxes on directly, but could freely dispose of its budget after paying a fixed levy to the territorial prince. In addition to city defense, expenditures included care for the sick and the poor. Needy citizens could obtain meals from the “boiling kitchen” (Siedeküche), provided they held civic rights. The city government paid particular attention to contagious diseases such as the plague, which periodically tormented the population. In return for their rights, every citizen had to swear the civic oath. This oath included the obligation to pay taxes and perform military service. In addition to defending the city, citizens were also deployed beyond its walls. In 1406, a contingent together with mercenaries confronted an Appenzell army to defend the Upper Inn Valley. From 1511 onward, according to Emperor Maximilian’s Landlibell, the city council was also obliged to provide a contingent of conscripts for territorial defense. In addition, there were volunteers who could enlist for military service in the city’s Freifähnlein; for example, Innsbruck citizens were among the defenders of Vienna during the Ottoman siege of 1529.

Im 15. Jahrhundert wurde der Platz eng im rasch wachsenden Innsbruck. Das Bürgerrecht wurde zu einem exklusiven Gut. Nur noch freien Untertanen aus ehelicher Geburt war es möglich, das Stadtrecht zu erlangen. Um Bürger zu werden, mussten entweder Hausbesitz oder Fähigkeiten in einem Handwerk nachgewiesen werden, an der die Zünfte der Stadt interessiert waren. Der Streit darum, wer ein „echter“ Innsbrucker ist, und wer nicht, hält sich bis heute. Dass Migration und Austausch mit anderen immer schon die Garantie für Wohlstand waren und Innsbruck zu der lebenswerten Stadt gemacht haben, die sie heute ist, wird dabei oft vergessen.

Because of these restrictions, Innsbruck had a completely different social composition from the surrounding villages. Craftsmen, merchants, officials, and servants shaped the cityscape. Merchants were often itinerant, while officials and courtly retinues also came to Innsbruck temporarily in the entourage of a prince and did not possess civic rights. It was the craftsmen who exercised a large part of political power within the citizenry. Unlike peasants, they belonged to the mobile social strata of the Middle Ages and the early modern period. After completing their apprenticeship, they went on their journeyman’s travels before taking the master craftsman’s examination and either returning home or settling in another city. Craftsmen were not only vectors of technical knowledge; cultural, social, and political ideas also spread through them. The craft guilds partly exercised their own jurisdiction alongside the municipal courts over their members. They were social structures within the urban framework that exerted considerable influence on politics. Wages, prices, and social life were regulated by the guilds under the supervision of the territorial prince. One could speak of an early form of social partnership, as the guilds also provided social security for their members in cases of illness or occupational disability. Each trade—such as locksmiths, tanners, armorers, carpenters, bakers, butchers, or blacksmiths—had its own guild headed by a master.

From the 14th century, Innsbruck demonstrably had a city council, the so-called Gemainand a mayor who was elected annually by the citizens. These were not secret but public elections, which were held every year around Christmas time. In the Innsbrucker Geschichtsalmanach von 1948 findet man Aufzeichnungen über die Wahl des Jahres 1598.

The Feast of St. Erhard, i.e., January 8th, played a significant role in the lives of the citizens of Innsbruck each year. On this day, they gathered to elect the city officials, namely the mayor, city judge, public orator, and the twelve-member council. A detailed account of the election process between 1598 and 1607 is provided by a protocol preserved in the city archive: "... The ringing of the great bell summoned the council and the citizenry to the town hall, and once the honorable council and the entire community were assembled at the town hall, the honorable council first convened in the council chamber and heard the farewell of the outgoing mayor of the previous year, Augustin Tauscher."

The mayor represented the city vis-à-vis the other estates and the territorial prince, who exercised supreme authority over the city with varying intensity depending on the period. Each councilor had clearly assigned duties, such as overseeing market rights and the quality of goods offered, managing the hospital and poor relief, or regulating customs—particularly important for Innsbruck. The city council was also responsible for discipline, ensuring social order and adherence to prevailing moral standards. Alcohol consumption and time spent in taverns were regulated differently at various times. Poorer segments of the population not only could not afford frequent visits, they were also permitted to enter taverns only at certain times. This was intended to prevent excessive drunkenness and begging from the upper classes. The council monitored the quality and safety of food in a manner similar to an early market authority, as cities had an interest in maintaining quality businesses to remain attractive as economic centers and destinations for visitors. In all these political processes, it should be borne in mind that in the 16th century Innsbruck had around 5,000 inhabitants, only a small proportion of whom possessed civic rights. The propertyless, itinerant people, the unemployed, servants, diplomats, employees, women, and students were not enfranchised citizens. Voting was a privilege of the male upper class.

Contrary to popular belief, the Middle Ages were not a lawless era of arbitrariness. At both municipal and territorial levels, there were legal codes that regulated in detail what was permitted and what was forbidden. Depending on the ruler and prevailing moral standards, these regulations could vary considerably. Carrying weapons, swearing, prostitution, noise, making music, blasphemy, children playing—everything and everyone could fall under the scrutiny of the authorities. If one also considers regulations on trade, customs, professional practice by guilds, and price controls imposed by the magistrate, pre- and early modern life was no less regulated than today. The difference lay in oversight and enforcement, which authorities often lacked. If someone was caught committing an unlawful or immoral act, there were courts that passed judgment. Medieval court days were held outdoors at the Dingstätte. The tradition of the Ding goes back to the ancient Germanic Thing, where all free men gathered to administer justice. The city council appointed a judge responsible for all offenses not subject to capital jurisdiction, assisted by a panel of sworn jurors. Punishments ranged from fines to the pillory and imprisonment. The observance of religious order was also monitored by the city. “Heretics” and dissenters were not disciplined by the Church but by the municipal authorities. Punishment involved methods less humane than those customary today, though torture was not applied arbitrarily. Its use as part of judicial procedure in particularly serious cases was regulated. Until the 17th century, suspects and criminals in Innsbruck were imprisoned and interrogated in the Kräuterturm at the southeastern corner of the city wall, at today’s Herzog-Otto-Ufer. Both trials and punishments were public events. Opposite the city tower stood the Narrenhäusel, a cage in which people were imprisoned and displayed. For lesser offenses, offenders were paraded through the city on the wooden “shame donkey.” The pillory stood in the suburb that is today Maria-Theresien-Straße. There was no police force, but the city judge employed assistants, and guards were stationed at the city gates to maintain order. It was a civic duty to assist in the apprehension of criminals. Vigilante justice was forbidden.

Jurisdiction between municipal and territorial courts was regulated as early as 1288 in the Urbarbuch. Serious crimes remained under the authority of the territorial court. Capital jurisdiction covered offenses such as theft, murder, or arson. The territorial court for all communities south of the Inn between Ampass and Götzens was located at Sonnenburg, south above Innsbruck. In the 14th century, the Sonnenburg court moved to the Upper City Square in front of the Innsbruck city tower, later into the town hall, and in the early modern period to Götzens. With the centralization of justice in the 18th century, the Sonnenburg court returned to Innsbruck and found accommodation under changing names and in various buildings, such as the Leuthaus in Wilten, on Innrain, or at the Ettnau manor, known as the Malfatti-Schlössl, on Höttinger Gasse.

From the late 15th century onward, Innsbruck’s executioner was centralized and responsible for several courts, residing in Hall. Execution sites changed over time. A gallows long stood on a hill in today’s Dreiheiligen district directly by the main road. The Köpflplatz was located until 1731 at today’s corner of Fallbachgasse and Weiherburggasse in Anpruggen. In Hötting, the gallows stood behind the Chapel of the Great God. The present chapel, which alongside a Baroque crucifix features ceramic figures by the renowned artist Max Spielmann (1906–1984), was relocated during roadworks in the 1960s. While Spielmann’s Dance of Death memorial commemorates those killed in the Second World War, those sentenced to death once sent a final prayer heavenward here before the noose was placed around their necks or their heads were severed—depending on social status and the nature of the crime. It was not uncommon for the condemned to give their executioner a kind of gratuity so that he would aim as precisely as possible to make the execution as painless as possible. Much could go wrong: if the sword missed its mark, the noose was improperly placed, or the rope broke, the suffering of the condemned increased. For authorities and public order, particularly dangerous offenders such as the “heretic” Jakob Hutter or the captured leaders of the Peasants’ Revolts of 1525 and 1526 were publicly executed in front of the Golden Roof. “Aggravated” punishments such as quartering or breaking on the wheel—derived from the Latin poena—were not routine but could be ordered in special cases. Executions were public demonstrations of authority and served as a form of purification of society and as a deterrent. Large crowds gathered to accompany the condemned on their final journey. On execution days, university lectures were suspended to allow students to attend and be morally instructed. The bodies of those executed were often left hanging and buried outside consecrated cemetery grounds or handed over to the university for study purposes. The last public execution in Austrian history took place in 1868. Although executions thereafter were still far from gentle, killings by strangulation at the gallows—used until the 1950s—were no longer public spectacles.

With the centralisation of law under Maria Theresa and Joseph II in the 18th century and the General Civil Code in the 19th century under Franz I, the law passed from cities and sovereigns to the monarch and their administrative bodies at various levels. Torture was abolished. The Enlightenment had fundamentally changed the concept of law, punishment and rehabilitation. The collection of taxes was also centralised, which resulted in a great loss of importance for the local nobility and an increase in the status of the civil service. With the increasing centralisation under Maria Theresa and Joseph II, taxes and customs duties were also gradually centralised and collected by the Imperial Court Chamber. As a result, Innsbruck, like many municipalities at the time, lost a large amount of revenue, which was only partially offset by equalisation.