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.

In the 15th century, space became scarce in the rapidly growing city of Innsbruck. Citizenship became an exclusive commodity. Only free subjects born of legitimate birth were able to obtain city rights. To become a citizen, one had to prove either house ownership or skills in a craft in which the city's guilds were interested. The debate over who is a "true" Innsbrucker and who is not persists to this day. That migration and exchange with others have always been the guarantee for prosperity—and made Innsbruck into the livable city it is today—is often forgotten in the process. Because of these restrictions, Innsbruck had a completely different social structure than the surrounding villages. Craftsmen, merchants, civil servants, and domestic servants defined the cityscape. Traveling traders, officials, and court retainers also came to Innsbruck for short periods in the entourage of a prince and held no citizenship rights. The craftsmen exerted the greatest political power at the municipal level. Unlike peasants, they belonged to the socially mobile classes of the Middle Ages and the Early Modern Period. After completing their apprenticeship, they went on the Walz (journeyman years) before undergoing the master's examination, subsequently either returning home or settling in another city. Craftsmen were responsible not only for the transfer of technical knowledge, but also for spreading cultural, social, and political ideas. The individual trades—such as blacksmiths, coppersmiths, goldsmiths, furriers, bagmakers, cloth shearers, shoemakers, locksmiths, tanners, armorers, carpenters, bakers, and butchers—each had their own guild headed by a master. These craft guilds sometimes exercised their own jurisdiction over their members alongside the municipal court system. Wages, prices, and social life were regulated by the guilds under the supervision of the sovereign. One could speak of an early form of social partnership, as the guilds also provided security for their members in the event of illness or disability.

From the 14th century onward, Innsbruck demonstrably possessed a city council—the so-called Gemain—and a mayor. The elections, held annually after the turn of the year, were not secret, but public. Innsbruck had a population of around 5,000, of whom only a small fraction held citizenship rights. Propertyless individuals, itinerant folk, the unemployed, domestic servants, diplomats, employees, women, and later students were not eligible to vote. Casting a vote was an exclusive privilege of the male upper class. In the Innsbrucker Geschichtsalmanach of 1948, one can find records regarding the election of the year 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 to the other estates and the sovereign, who exercised supreme authority over the town with varying degrees of intensity depending on the era. Each city councilor was assigned specific, clearly defined tasks, such as overseeing market rights and the quality of offered goods, managing the hospital and poor relief, or administering the customs regulations, which were particularly vital for Innsbruck. The city council was also tasked with maintaining discipline, social order, and prevailing moral standards. The consumption of alcohol and staying in taverns were regulated differently at various times. For poorer social classes, going to inns was not only too expensive, but they were also restricted to visiting them only during specific hours. This was intended to prevent excessive drunkenness and begging directed at the upper class. Much like an early market authority, the city council monitored the quality and standard of food, as cities were keen on maintaining the reputation of their businesses to remain attractive as economic hubs and for visiting guests.

Contrary to popular belief, the Middle Ages were not a lawless era of arbitrariness. At both municipal and territorial levels, there were codes that very precisely regulated what was permitted and what was forbidden. Depending on the ruler and prevailing moral standards, these could vary significantly. Carrying weapons, swearing, prostitution, making noise, playing music, blasphemy, children playing—anything and anyone could end up in the crosshairs of law enforcement. Considering the regulations for trade, customs, professional practice by guilds, and price-fixing for all sorts of goods by the magistrate, pre- and early modern cohabitation was no less regulated than it is today. The difference lay in monitoring and enforcement power, which the authorities often lacked. If someone was caught in an unlawful or immoral act, judicial bodies existed to hand down sentences. Medieval court days were held outdoors at the "Dingstätte." The tradition of the Ding dates 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 blood justice (Blutgericht). He was assisted by a panel of several jurors. Penalties ranged from fines to the pillory and imprisonment. The city also monitored adherence to religious order. There was no police force, but the city judge employed bailiffs, and city guards were stationed at the gates to maintain order. It was a civic duty to assist in capturing criminals; vigilantism was strictly prohibited. Law enforcement included methods far less humane than those common today, though torture was not applied randomly or arbitrarily. Torture as part of formal procedure in particularly severe cases was also regulated. Up until the 17th century, suspects and criminals in Innsbruck were detained and interrogated in the Kräuterturm (Herb Tower) at the southeastern corner of the city wall, along present-day Herzog-Otto-Ufer. Both trials and sentence executions were public affairs. Minor offenses brought mild yet humiliating punishments: in front of the City Tower stood the Narrenhäusel (fools' house), a cage in which offenders were locked up and put on display for several hours or days. On the wooden Schandesel (donkey of shame), one was paraded through the city. The pillory stood in the suburb—today's Maria-Theresien-Straße. The jurisdictional boundaries between municipal and territorial justice had been regulated in the land register (Urbarbuch) since 1288. "Heretics" and dissidents were sentenced not by the Church, but by the city government. Only severe crimes remained under the jurisdiction of the territorial court (Landesgericht). Offenses such as theft, murder, or arson fell under this high justice (Blutrecht). The territorial court for all communities south of the Inn between Ampass and Götzens was based at the Sonnenburg, situated on the hill south above Innsbruck. In the 14th century, the Sonnenburg court relocated to the Upper Town Square in front of the Innsbruck City Tower, later to the Town Hall, and in the early modern period to Götzens. With the centralization of law in the 18th century, the Sonnenburg court returned to Innsbruck, taking shelter under various names and in different buildings—such as the Leuthaus in Wilten, on the Innrain, or at the Ansitz Ettnau (known as the Malfatti-Schlössl) in 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.