The period between the French Revolution and the Battle of Königgrätz in 1866 was a period of war. Many of the basic political attitudes, animosities towards other groups and European nationalism of the 19th and 20th centuries, which were also to influence the history of Innsbruck, had their roots in the conflicts of this period. Revolutionary Paris was a long way away and there were neither e-mails nor a nationwide press system to disseminate news. The godlessness of Marie Antoinette's murderers and the hatred of the Church of the new masters of France were successfully spread via leaflets and church pulpits. The monarchies of Europe, led by the Habsburgs, had declared war on the French Republic. Fears were rife that the slogan of the revolution „Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité" could spread across Europe. A young general named Napoleon Bonaparte was with his italienischen Armee advanced across the Alps as part of the coalition wars and met the Austrian troops there. It was not just a war for territory and power, it was a battle of systems. The Grande Armee of the revolutionary French Republic met the troops of the conservative and Catholic Habsburgs.

Tyrolean marksmen were actively involved in the fighting to defend the country's borders against the invading French. The men were used to handling weapons and were considered skilled marksmen. The historian Ludwig Denk put it this way in an essay in 1860:

"...The Tyrolean's main passion is shooting. Early on, the father takes his son hunting. It is not uncommon to see boys running around with loaded rifles, climbing high mountains and shooting birds or squirrels..."

The strength of units such as the Höttinger Schützen, founded in 1796, lay not in open field battles but in guerrilla warfare. They also had a secret weapon on their side against the most advanced and modern army of the time: the Sacred Heart. Since 1719, Jesuit missionaries had been travelling to the furthest side valleys and had successfully established the cult of the Sacred Heart as a unifying element in the fight against pagan customs and Protestantism. Now that they were facing the godless revolutionary French, who had declared war not only on the monarchy but also on the clergy, it was only logical that the Sacred Heart of Jesus would watch over the Tyrolean holy warriors in a protective capacity. In a hopeless situation, the Tyrolean troops renewed their covenant with the Heart of Jesus to ask for protection. Against all odds, the Tyrolean archers were successful in their defence. It was the abbot of Stams Abbey who petitioned the provincial estates to henceforth organise an annual "das Fest des göttlichen Herzens Jesu mit feierlichem Gottesdienst zu begehen, wenn Tirol von der drohenden Feindesgefahr befreit werde." Every year, the Sacred Heart celebrations were discussed and announced with great pomp in the press. In the 19th and early 20th centuries in particular, they were an explosive mixture of popular superstition, Catholicism and national resentment against everything French and Italian. Countless soldiers entrusted their well-being to the heart of Jesus even in the technologised battlefield of the First World War and carried images of this symbol with them in the hail of grenades. Alongside Cranach's Mother of Mercy, the depiction of the Heart of Jesus is probably the most popular Christian motif in Tyrol to this day and is emblazoned on the façades of countless houses.

The Habsburg Tyrol had expanded during the turmoil of war without his involvement, and probably also without that of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Trentino had become part of the crown land in the last breaths of the Holy Roman Empire before its dissolution in 1803. Innsbruck, on the other hand, had shrunk. The deaths of soldiers and the economic difficulties caused by the war led to a decline in the population from a good 9500 around 1750 to around 8800. After the Napoleonic Wars, things remained quiet on the Tyrolean borders for around 30 years. This changed with the Italian Risorgimento, the national movement led by Sardinia-Piedmont and France. 1848, 1859 and 1866 saw the so-called Italian wars of unification. In the course of the 19th century, at the latest since 1848, there was a veritable national frenzy among young men of the upper classes. Volunteer armies sprang up in all regions of Europe. Students and academics who came together in their fraternities, gymnasts, marksmen, all wanted to prove their new love of the nation on the battlefield and supported the official armies.

As a garrison town, Innsbruck was an important supply centre. After the Congress of Vienna, the Tyrolean Jägerkorps the k.k. Tiroler Kaiserjägerregiment an elite unit that was deployed in these conflicts. Volunteer units such as the Innsbruck academics or the Stubai Riflemen fought in Italy. Thousands fell in the fight against the coalition of the arch-enemy France, the godless Garibaldians and the threat posed by the Kingdom of Italy under the leadership of the Francophile Savoys from Piedmont, which was being formed at Austria's expense. The media fuelled the mood away from the front line. The "Innsbrucker Zeitung" predigte in ihren Artikeln Kaisertreue und großdeutsch-tirolischen Nationalismus, wetterte gegen das Italienertum und Franzosen und pries den Mut Tiroler Soldaten.

"Die starke Besetzung der Höhen am Ausgange des Valsugana bei Primolano und le Tezze gab schon oft den Innsbrucker-Akademikern I. und den Stubaiern Anlaß, freiwillige Ercur:sionen gegen le Tezze, Fonzago und Fastro, als auch auf das rechte Brenta-Ufer und den Höhen gegen die kleinen Lager von den Sette comuni zu machen...Am 19. schon haben die Stubaier einige Feinde niedergestreckt, als sie sich das erste mal hinunterwagten, indem sie sich ihnen entgegenschlichen..."

Probably the most famous battle of the Wars of unification took place in Solferino near Lake Garda in 1859. Horrified by the bloody events, Henry Durant decided to found the Red Cross. The writer Joseph Roth described the events in the first pages of his classic book, which is well worth reading Radetzkymarsch.

"In the battle of Solferino, he (note: Lieutenant Trotta) commanded a platoon as an infantry lieutenant. The battle had been going on for half an hour. Three paces in front of him he saw the white backs of his soldiers. The first row of his platoon was kneeling, the second was standing. Everyone was cheerful and certain of victory. They had eaten copiously and drunk brandy at the expense and in honour of the emperor, who had been in the field since yesterday. Here and there one fell out of line."

The year 1866 was particularly costly for the Austrian Empire, with the loss of Veneto and Lombardy in Italy. At the same time, Prussia took the lead in the German Confederation, the successor organisation to the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation. For Innsbruck, the withdrawal of the Habsburg Monarchy from the German Confederation meant that it had finally become a city on the western periphery of the empire. The tendency towards so-called Großdeutschen LösungThe German question, i.e. statehood together with the German Empire instead of the independent Austrian Empire, was very pronounced in Innsbruck. The extent to which this German question divided the city became apparent over 30 years later, when the Innsbruck municipal council voted in favour of the Iron Chancellor Bismarck, who was responsible for the fratricidal war between Austria and Germany, wanted to dedicate a street to him. While conservatives loyal to the emperor were horrified by this proposal, the Greater German liberals around Mayor Wilhelm Greil were enthusiastic.

With the Tummelplatz, the Pradl military cemetery and the Kaiserjägermuseum on Mount Isel, the city has several memorials to these bloody conflicts, in which many Innsbruck residents took to the field.

Philippine Welser (1527–1580) was the wife of Archduke Ferdinand II and ranks among the most popular historical figures associated with Innsbruck. To this day, she is often portrayed as a woman of humble origins who rose to the highest social circles through the power of love. This portrayal, however, is not entirely accurate. The Welser family was among the wealthiest families of their time. Her uncle Bartholomäus Welser was comparable in financial stature to Jakob Fugger and likewise belonged to the class of merchants and financiers who amassed immense wealth around 1500. The pillars of his prosperity—comparable to that of today’s tech billionaires—were the spice trade with India, mining, and the metals trade with the American colonies. Welser had also extended loans to the Habsburgs, which he was to recover in a momentous way. Instead of repaying the debts, Emperor Charles V pledged part of the territories newly annexed from the Spanish crown in America to the Welser family. In return, they were permitted to secure and develop the land as the colony of Klein‑Venedig (Little Venice), present‑day Venezuela, by establishing fortresses and settlements. They equipped expeditions in search of the legendary land of gold, El Dorado. In order to maximize profits from their fief, they set up trading posts and participated in the lucrative transatlantic slave trade between Europe, West Africa, and the Americas. The first generation of conquistadors, acting in the service of early capitalism in South and Central America, proceeded with such brutality that the distant Spanish authorities were forced to intervene. After 1530, Charles V prohibited the trade in Indigenous people from South America; however, the use of enslaved Africans on plantations and in mines was not affected by this regulation. This continued inhumane conduct on the part of the Welser representatives led to complaints at the imperial court in 1546. As a result, their fief over Klein‑Venedig was revoked, although their trading networks remained intact.

The young Philippine benefited from her family’s well‑established connections to the aristocracy. What followed was one of the most sensational celebrity marriages of the early modern period. Ferdinand and Philippine met at a Carnival ball in Pilsen. The Habsburg fell head over heels in love with the wealthy woman from Augsburg and married her. The secret marriage met with little enthusiasm within the House of Habsburg, even though business relations between the old nobility and the nouveau‑riche Augsburg merchant families had existed for decades and the Welser fortune was very welcome. Despite their wealth, marriages between commoners and nobles were considered scandalous and socially inappropriate. Ferdinand is said to have been utterly infatuated with his beautiful wife throughout his life and therefore to have disregarded all social conventions of the time. According to contemporary witnesses, her skin was so delicate that “one could see a sip of red wine flowing through her throat.” It comes as no surprise that the Tyrolean ruler had Ambras Castle lavishly remodelled for her. His brother Maximilian even remarked that Ferdinand was “enchanted” by the beautiful Philippine Welser, when Ferdinand withdrew his troops during the Turkish war to return home to his wife—though he added less charitably: “…I wish the wench were put into a sack and that no one knew where she was. God forgive me.” The Emperor only recognised the marriage after the couple had asked for forgiveness and pledged lifelong secrecy. The children of this morganatic marriage were therefore excluded from the line of succession.

Philippine Welser’s great passion was cooking. A collection of her recipes is still preserved today in the Austrian National Library. In the Middle Ages and the early modern period, the culinary arts were cultivated exclusively by the wealthy and the nobility, while the vast majority of subjects ate whatever was available. For centuries—indeed until the 1950s—people lived under conditions of chronic calorie deficiency. While today excessive consumption leads to illness, our ancestors suffered from diseases caused by malnutrition. Fruit was rarely part of the diet, as was meat. Food was monotonous and barely seasoned; spices such as exotic pepper were luxury goods beyond the reach of ordinary people. Whereas the daily fare of the common population was focused almost entirely on the most efficient intake of calories needed for physical labour, attitudes towards food and drink began to change in Innsbruck under Ferdinand II and Philippine Welser. Since the reign of Frederick IV, the court had already contributed to a gradual refinement of manners and customs in Innsbruck. Philippine Welser and Ferdinand elevated this development to new heights at Ambras Castle and the Weiherburg. The banquets they hosted were legendary and not infrequently degenerated into excesses. Her second great interest was herbal medicine. Philippine documented how plants and herbs could be used to alleviate physical ailments of all kinds. One of her recommendations read: “To make the teeth white and fresh and to kill the worms therein: take rosemary wood and burn it to charcoal, grind it into powder, bind it in a small silk cloth and rub the teeth with it.” For her studies and interests, she had a herb garden laid out at Ambras Castle in Innsbruck.

According to contemporary accounts, she was very popular among the Tyrolean population, as she showed great care for the poor and needy. Such charitable welfare, organised by the city council and sponsored by wealthy citizens and nobles, was not exceptional at the time but common practice. Nowhere, it was believed, could one come closer to salvation in the afterlife than through Christian charity (caritas). Philippine Welser found her final resting place after her death in 1580 in the Silver Chapel of the Court Church in Innsbruck, where she was buried together with her children who had died in infancy and with Ferdinand. Below Ambras Castle, the Philippine‑Welser‑Straße still commemorates her today.

Archduke Ferdinand II of Austria (1529–1595) ranks among the most colourful figures in Tyrolean regional history. His father, Emperor Ferdinand I, ensured that he received an excellent education. Ferdinand grew up at the Spanish court of his uncle, Emperor Charles V. The years of his formal education coincided with the early phase of Jesuit influence at the Habsburg courts. The young statesman was educated by these devout scholars entirely in the spirit of Christian humanism, complemented by instruction in the customs and etiquette of the High Renaissance aristocracy. In his youth, Ferdinand travelled extensively through Italy and Burgundy, where he became acquainted with a refined and luxurious courtly lifestyle that had not yet been established among the German aristocracy. He also spent several formative years in Innsbruck. Ferdinand was what one might today describe as a globetrotter, a member of the educational elite, or a cosmopolitan. He was regarded as intelligent, charming, and artistically inclined. Among contemporaries less enamoured of his eccentricity, however, he was reputed to be immoral and hedonistic. Even during his lifetime, rumours circulated that he hosted extravagant and indecent orgies. This reputation was likely connected to his private life. In a first, “semi‑morganatic” marriage, Ferdinand was wed to the commoner Philippine Welser. After the death of his first wife, Ferdinand married at the age of fifty‑three the deeply religious Anna Caterina Gonzaga, a sixteen‑year‑old princess of Mantua. Mutual affection between the two appears to have been limited, not least because Anna Caterina was Ferdinand’s niece. The Habsburgs were far less squeamish about marriages within the family than about unions between nobles and commoners. From this marriage, too, Ferdinand “only” fathered three daughters.

After the rarely Ferdinand I, Innsbruck once again gained a resident ruler. Ferdinand’s father divided his realm among his sons. Maximilian II, suspected by his parents of heresy and sympathy with Protestant doctrines, inherited Upper and Lower Austria as well as Bohemia and Hungary. Ferdinand’s younger brother Charles ruled Inner Austria—Carinthia, Styria, and Carniola. The middle son received Tyrol, which at the time extended as far as the Engadin, along with the fragmented Habsburg possessions west of the central European core lands. The golden age of silver mining in Tyrol was already fading. The mines of Schwaz were becoming unprofitable due to cheap silver imports from the Americas. The influx of precious metals from the Habsburg territories in New Spain led to inflation. These financial challenges did not deter Ferdinand from commissioning extensive public and private infrastructure projects. Innsbruck benefited enormously—economically and culturally—from once again becoming the seat of an active ruler after years of neglect following Maximilian’s death. Ferdinand’s archducal presence attracted aristocrats and officials back to the city. By the late 1560s, the administrative apparatus had grown once again to around one thousand people, whose spending stimulated local commerce. Bakers, butchers, and inns flourished after leaner years. By the end of the sixteenth century, Innsbruck had an above‑average number of taverns compared to other cities, profiting handsomely from merchants, travellers, and guests. Wine taverns also functioned as storage and trading centres.

The Italian cities of Florence, Venice and Milan were trendsetters in terms of culture, art and architecture. Ferdinand's Tyrolean court was to be in no way inferior to them. Gone were the days when Germans were considered uncivilised in the more beautiful cities south of the Alps, barbaric or even as Pigs were labelled. To this end, he had Innsbruck remodelled in the spirit of the Renaissance. In keeping with the trend of the time, he imitated the Italian aristocratic courts. Court architect Giovanni Lucchese assisted him in this endeavour. Ferdinand spent a considerable part of his life at Ambras Castle near Innsbruck, where he amassed one of the most valuable collections of works of art and armour in the world. Ferdinand transformed the castle above the village of Amras into a modern court. His parties, masked balls and parades were legendary. During the wedding of a nephew, he had 1800 calves and 130 oxen roasted. Wine is said to have flowed from the wells instead of water for 10 days.

The transformation of Innsbruck did not end with Ambras Castle. West of the city, an archway still commemorates Ferdinand’s game reserve, complete with a pleasure pavilion (Lusthaus), also designed by Lucchese. To allow the sovereign access to his weekend residence, a road was laid through the marshy Höttinger floodplains, forming the basis of today’s Kranebitter Allee. The Lusthaus was replaced in 1786 by the structure now known as the Powder Tower (Pulverturm), which today houses parts of the University of Innsbruck’s Faculty of Sport Science. In the city centre, Ferdinand commissioned the princely Comedihaus on today’s Rennweg. To improve Innsbruck’s water supply, the Mühlau Bridge was constructed, allowing water from the Mühlau stream to be channelled into the city. The Jesuits, who had arrived in Innsbruck shortly before Ferdinand’s accession to counter reformers and critics of the Church and to reorganise education, were granted a new church in Silbergasse. Numerous new buildings—including the monasteries of the Jesuits, Franciscans, Capuchins, and Servite nuns—stimulated crafts and construction. These new orders supported Ferdinand’s emphasis on the confessional conformity of his subjects. In the Tyrolean Provincial Ordinance of 1573, Ferdinand not only sought to curb fornication, profanity, and prostitution, but also obliged his subjects to live a God‑fearing—i.e. Catholic—life. The “Prohibition of Sorcery and Superstitious Divination” outlawed any deviation from the true faith under threat of imprisonment, corporal punishment, and confiscation of property. Jews were required to wear a clearly visible yellow ring on the left side of their clothing. At the same time, Ferdinand brought a Jewish financier to Innsbruck to manage the court’s complex finances. Samuel May and his family lived in the city as protected court Jews; Daniel Levi entertained the archduke with dance and harp music, while Elieser Lazarus served as his personal physician.

To live lavishly, tax the population heavily, tolerate Protestant advisers at court while suppressing Protestantism among the populace posed no contradiction for a Renaissance prince. Ferdinand saw himself as Advocatus Ecclesiae, the secular representative of the Church, responsible in an absolutist confessional sense for the salvation of his subjects’ souls. At the age of fifteen, he had already marched into battle with his uncle Charles V during the Schmalkaldic War against the enemies of the Roman Church. Coercive measures, the founding of churches and monasteries—such as those of the Franciscans and Capuchins in Innsbruck—improved pastoral care, and Jesuit theatrical productions like The Beheading of John were among the preferred weapons against Protestantism. Ferdinand’s piety was sincere, yet like most of his contemporaries he was adept at adapting to circumstances. His policies reflected the influence of contemporary Italian avant‑garde thought. Machiavelli’s Il Principe argued that rulers were permitted whatever was necessary for success—and could be deposed if they failed. Ferdinand II sought to embody this early absolutist style of leadership and, with his Provincial Ordinance, introduced a comparatively modern legal framework. For his subjects, however, this meant higher taxes, as well as significant restrictions on common land usage, fishing, and hunting rights. Miners, mining entrepreneurs, and foreign trading companies with their counting houses in Innsbruck further drove up food prices. In summary, while Ferdinand enjoyed exclusive hunting privileges on his estates, his subjects endured hardship caused by rising burdens, inflation, and game damage exacerbated by hunting bans. Owing largely to his architectural legacy, Ferdinand continues to enjoy a favourable reputation today. The eccentric archduke found his final resting place—fittingly according to his own tastes—in the Silver Chapel, beside his first wife, Philippine Welser.

Maximilian ranks among the most significant figures not only in the history of Innsbruck, but in European history as a whole. Of this mountainous land he is said to have remarked: “Tyrol is a coarse peasant’s coat, but one that keeps you warm.” There were many reasons for this special affection. His father, Frederick III, had been born in Innsbruck in 1415, before the city became a princely residence. Like many of his peers in the high aristocracy, Maximilian was an enthusiastic hunter, and the city’s location amid floodplains, forests, and mountains is said to have exerted on him a particular appeal—much as it still does today on German students. Despite these convincing “soft facts,” it was probably more tangible reasons that led him to conduct a considerable part of his governmental business from Innsbruck. In 1490, at the request of the Estates of the Land, he assumed the government of Tyrol from his predecessor Sigismund. The powerful Habsburg was unwilling to relinquish the important assets the region had to offer from the Habsburg portfolio. Maximilian transformed the former trading settlement on the Inn into one of the most important centers of the Holy Roman Empire, thereby permanently shaping its destiny. Innsbruck’s strategically advantageous location close to the Italian theaters of war also made the city highly attractive to the Emperor. Many Tyroleans were compelled to enforce the imperial will on the battlefield instead of tending their own fields. This changed only toward the end of his reign. In 1511, Maximilian granted the Tyroleans the Tyrolean Landlibell, a kind of constitution, which stipulated that they could only be called upon for military service in defense of their own land. What admirers of Maximilian—who like to regard the document as a charter of liberty—often overlook are the associated obligations, such as the levying of special taxes in the event of war. For Innsbruck the arrangement paid off in any case—if not financially, then at least culturally. “Whoever does not create a memory for himself in life will have no memory after death, and such a person will be forgotten with the peal of the bell.” Maximilian countered this fear quite successfully and deliberately through the erection of highly visible symbols of imperial power, such as the Golden Roof. Propaganda, imagery, and media played an increasingly important role, not least due to the emergence of printing. Maximilian made deliberate use of art and culture to maintain his presence. He kept a Reich Chapel Choir, a musical ensemble that performed primarily at public appearances and receptions of international envoys. A veritable cult of personality was staged around him through coins, books, printed works, and paintings.

For all the romance cultivated by this lover of courtly traditions and classical chivalry, Maximilian was a cool-headed power politician. His cultural policy and propaganda may have drawn on medieval models, but in realpolitik terms he was forward-looking. During his reign, political institutions such as the Imperial Diet (Reichstag), the Imperial Aulic Council (Reichshofrat), and the Imperial Chamber Court (Reichskammergericht) emerged, strictly regulating the relationship between subjects, territorial lords, and monarchy. Around 1500, Tyrol had approximately 300,000 inhabitants. More than 80 percent worked in agriculture and lived largely from the yields of their farms. In a veritable frenzy of new legislation, Maximilian curtailed peasant rights to the commons. Timber harvesting, hunting, and fishing were subordinated to the territorial lord and were no longer communal rights. This had negative effects on peasant self-sufficiency. Thanks to the new laws, hunters became poachers. Meat and fish, long staples of the medieval diet, became luxuries that could often only be obtained illegally. As a result, Maximilian was unpopular among large segments of the population during his lifetime.

Restrictions on self-sufficiency were joined by new taxes. It had always been customary for sovereigns to impose additional taxes on the population in the event of war. Maximilian's warfare differed from medieval conflicts. The auxiliary troops and their noble, chivalrous landlords were supplemented or completely replaced by mercenaries who knew how to use modern firearms.

This new way of waging war consumed enormous sums. When revenues from princely rights—such as minting, market, mining, and customs monopolies—were no longer sufficient, various population groups were taxed according to their estate and wealth. The system, however, was still far removed from today’s differentiated taxation models and consequently produced injustice and resentment. One example was Maximilian’s Gemeiner Pfennig. This wealth tax ranged from 0.1 to 0.5 percent of assets but was capped at one gulden. Jews, irrespective of their wealth, were required to pay a poll tax of one gulden. For the first time, princes were also obliged to contribute, but due to the cap they paid no more than a middle-class Jew. The proclamation and execution of the tax fell to prelates, parish priests, and secular lords. Priests were required to announce the tax from the pulpit on three successive Sundays, collect contributions together with court representatives, and enter them into the imperial tax register. It soon became clear that this method of taxation was unworkable. A modern system and tax model were required. A collegial chamber, the Regiment, centrally supervised Tyrol and Further Austria following the modern model of Burgundian financial administration that Maximilian had encountered during his time in the Netherlands. Innsbruck became the financial and accounting center of the Austrian lands. The Audit Chamber (Raitkammer) and the Privy Treasury (Hauskammer) were located in the Neuhof, where today the Golden Roof looks down over the old town. In 1496, the financial resources of the Austrian hereditary lands were consolidated in the treasury in Innsbruck. The head of the Court Chamber was the Bishop of Brixen, Melchior von Meckau, who increasingly involved the Fugger family as creditors. Officials such as Jakob Villinger (1480–1529) handled financial transactions with banking houses across Europe using the Italian-influenced method of double-entry bookkeeping and attempted to keep imperial finances under control. Talented minor nobles and citizens, trained jurists, and professional administrators replaced the high nobility in leading roles. Financial experts from Burgundy held the commercial leadership of the Regiment. The boundaries between finance and other fields such as war planning and domestic policy became fluid, granting this new administrative class considerable power. Where once equilibrium between territorial lord, church, landlord, and subject had rested on a balance of contributions and military protection, this system was now enforced through coercion from above. Maximilian argued that it was the duty of every Christian, regardless of estate, to defend the Holy Roman Empire against external enemies. The records surrounding disputes between king, nobility, clergy, peasants, and towns over tax obligations strongly resemble modern political debates on power and wealth distribution. The crucial difference from earlier centuries lay in the fact that the modern administrative apparatus now made it possible to enforce and collect these taxes. Comparisons to mandatory cash registers, the taxation of tips in the hospitality industry, or debates over abolishing cash transactions suggest themselves. Capital followed political significance to Innsbruck as well. During his reign, Maximilian employed 350 councillors. Nearly a quarter of these well-paid officials came from Tyrol. Envoys and politicians from across Europe, extending as far as the Ottoman Empire, as well as nobles, built residences in Innsbruck or stayed in its inns. Much like today’s oil wealth draws specialists of all kinds to Dubai, Schwaz silver and the financial economy it generated once attracted experts of all kinds to Innsbruck—a small city amid the inhospitable Alps.

Under Maximilian’s rule, Innsbruck underwent architectural and infrastructural transformation on an unprecedented scale. In addition to constructing the prestigious Golden Roof, he remodeled the Imperial Palace, began construction of the Court Church, and created the Innsbruck Arsenal, Europe’s leading weapons manufactory. Streets through the old town were reinforced and paved for the refined members of the court. As a pious Christian in the chivalric tradition, the Emperor also aided the poorest members of society. In 1499 he renovated and expanded the Salvator Chapel, a hospital for destitute Innsbruck residents who had no claim to a place in the municipal hospital. In 1509, the inner-city cemetery was relocated from today’s Cathedral Square to behind the municipal hospital, at what is now Adolf-Pichler-Platz. Maximilian rerouted the trade road through present-day Mariahilf and improved the city’s water supply. A fire ordinance for Innsbruck followed in 1510. He also began to curtail the privileges of Wilten Abbey, the largest landowner in what is today the city area. Infrastructure owned by the monastery—such as mills, sawmills, and the Sill Canal—was to come under stronger princely control.

The imperial court and the affluent administrative class resident in Innsbruck transformed the city’s appearance and demeanor. Maximilian had introduced the refined courtly culture of Burgundy to Central Europe through his first wife. Culturally, however, it was above all his second wife, Bianca Maria Sforza, who promoted Innsbruck. Not only was their royal wedding celebrated there, she also resided in the city for long periods, as it lay closer to her native Milan than Maximilian’s other residences. She brought her entire court from the Renaissance metropolis into the German lands north of the Alps. Art and entertainment in all forms flourished.

Under Maximilian, Innsbruck not only became a cultural centre of the empire, the city also boomed economically. Among other things, Innsbruck was the centre of the postal service in the empire. Maximilian was able to build on the expertise of the gunsmiths who had already established themselves in the foundries in Hötting under his predecessor Siegmund. Platers, foundry operators, powder stampers and cutlers settled in Neustadt, St. Nikolaus, Mühlau, Hötting and along the Sill Canal. The Fugger merchant dynasty maintained an office in Innsbruck. In addition to his favoured love of Tyrolean nature, the treasures such as salt from Hall and silver from Schwaz were at least as dear and useful to him. Maximilian financed his lavish court, his election as king by the electors and the eight-year war against the Republic of Venice by mortgaging the country's mineral resources, among other things.

Assessing Maximilian’s impact on Innsbruck is challenging. Expressions of affection by an emperor naturally flatter the popular imagination to this day. His material legacy, with its many monumental buildings, reinforces this positive image. He made Innsbruck an imperial residence and advanced infrastructural modernization. Thanks to the arsenal, the city became a center of the arms industry, the treasury of the Empire, and expanded both economically and spatially. Yet the debts he incurred and the regional assets he pledged to the Fugger family shaped Tyrol after his death just as profoundly as the strict laws he imposed on the common population. He is said to have left debts amounting to five million gulden—an amount his Austrian territories could have earned over twenty years. Outstanding payments ruined many businesses and service providers after his death, leaving them stranded on imperial promises. Early modern rulers were not bound by their predecessors’ liabilities; only agreements with the Fugger family constituted an exception, as these involved collateral rights. In the legends surrounding the Emperor, these harsh realities are far less present than the Golden Roof and the soft facts learned in school. In 2019, celebrations marking the 500th anniversary of the death of what was arguably the most important Habsburg for Innsbruck were held under the slogan “Tyrolean at heart, European in spirit.” The Viennese-born ruler was benevolently naturalized. Salzburg has Mozart; Innsbruck has Maximilian—a Emperor whom Tyroleans have adapted to fit the desired identity of Innsbruck as a rugged character happiest in the mountains. His distinctive face today adorns all manner of consumer goods, from cheese to ski lifts; the Emperor serves as patron for all kinds of the profane. Only for political agendas is he less easily harnessed than Andreas Hofer. For the average citizen, it is probably easier to identify with a revolutionary innkeeper than with an emperor.

In the 1990s, an Austrian television series caused a scandal. The Piefke Saga written by the Tyrolean author Felix Mitterer, describes the relationship between the German holidaymaker family Sattmann and their hosts in a fictitious Tyrolean holiday resort in four bizarrely amusing episodes. Despite all the scepticism about tourism in its current, sometimes extreme, excesses, it should not be forgotten that tourism was an important factor in Innsbruck and the surrounding area in the 19th century, driving the region's development in the long term, and not just economically.

The first travellers to Innsbruck were pilgrims and business people. Traders, journeymen on the road, civil servants, soldiers, entourages of aristocratic guests at court, skilled workers from various trades, miners, clerics, pilgrims and scientists were the first tourists to be drawn to the city between Italy and Germany. Travelling was expensive, dangerous and arduous. In addition, a large proportion of the subjects were not allowed to leave their own land without the permission of their landlord or abbot. Those who travelled usually did so on the cobbler's pony. Although Innsbruck's inns and innkeepers were already earning money from travellers in the Middle Ages and early modern times, there was no question of tourism as we understand it today. It began when a few crazy travellers were drawn to the mountain peaks for the first time. In addition to a growing middle class, this also required a new attitude towards the Alps. For a long time, the mountains had been a pure threat to people. It was mainly the British who set out to conquer the world's mountains after the oceans. From the late 18th century, the era of Romanticism, news of the natural beauty of the Alps spread through travelogues. The first foreign-language travel guide to Tyrol, Travells through the Rhaetian Alps by Jean Francois Beaumont was published in 1796.

In addition to the alpine attraction, it was the wild and exotic Natives Tirols, die international für Aufsehen sorgten. Der bärtige Revoluzzer namens Andreas Hofer, der es mit seinem Bauernheer geschafft hatte, Napoleons Armee in die Knie zu zwingen, erzeugte bei den Briten, den notorischen Erzfeinden der Franzosen, ebenso großes Interesse wie bei deutschen Nationalisten nördlich der Alpen, die in ihm einen frühen Protodeutschen sahen. Die Tiroler galten als unbeugsamer Menschenschlag, archetypisch und ungezähmt, ähnlich den Germanen unter Arminius, die das Imperium Romanum herausgefordert hatten. Die Beschreibungen Innsbrucks aus der Feder des Autors Beda Weber (1798 – 1858) und andere Reiseberichte in der boomenden Presselandschaft dieser Zeit trugen dazu bei, ein attraktives Bild Innsbrucks zu prägen.

Nun mussten die wilden Alpen nur noch der Masse an Touristen zugänglich gemacht werden, die zwar gerne den frühen Abenteurern auf ihren Expeditionen nacheifern wollten, deren Risikobereitschaft und Fitness mit den Wünschen nicht schritthalten konnten. Der German Alpine Club eröffnete 1869 eine Sektion Innsbruck, nachdem der 1862 Österreichische Alpenverein was not very successful. Driven by the Greater German idea of many members, the two institutions merged in 1873. Alpine Club is still bourgeois to this day, while its social democratic counterpart is the Naturfreunde. The network of paths grew as a result of its development, as did the number of huts that could accommodate guests. The transit country of Tyrol had countless mule tracks and footpaths that had existed for centuries and served as the basis for alpinism. Small inns, farms and stations along the postal routes served as accommodation. The Tyrolean theologian Franz Senn (1831 - 1884) and the writer Adolf Pichler (1819 - 1900) were instrumental in the surveying of Tyrol and the creation of maps. Contrary to popular belief, the Tyroleans were not born mountaineers, but had to be taught the skills to conquer the mountains. Until then, mountains had been one thing above all: dangerous and arduous in everyday agricultural life. Climbing them had hardly occurred to anyone before. The Alpine clubs also trained mountain guides. From the turn of the century, skiing came into fashion alongside hiking and mountaineering. There were no lifts yet, and to get up the mountains you had to use the skins that are still glued to touring skis today. It was not until the 1920s, following the construction of the cable cars on the Nordkette and Patscherkofel mountains, that a wealthy clientele was able to enjoy the modern luxury of mountain lifts while skiing.

New hotels, cafés, inns, shops and means of transport were needed to meet the needs of guests. Anyone who had running water and a telephone connection at home in London or Paris did not want to make do with an outhouse in the corridor or in front of the house when on holiday. The so-called first and second class inns were suitable for transit traffic, but they were not equipped to receive upscale tourists. Until the 19th century, innkeepers in the city and in the villages around Innsbruck belonged to the upper middle class in terms of income. They were often farmers who ran a pub on the side and sold food. As the example of Andreas Hofer shows, they also had a good reputation and influence within local society. As meeting places for the locals and hubs for postal and goods traffic, they were often well informed about what was happening in the wider world. However, as they were neither members of a guild nor counted among the middle classes, the profession of innkeeper was not one of the most honourable professions. This changed with the professionalisation of the tourism industry. Entrepreneurs such as Robert Nißl, who took over Büchsenhausen Castle in 1865 and converted it into a brewery, invested in the infrastructure. Former aristocratic residences such as Weiherburg Castle became inns and hotels. The revolution in Innsbruck did not take place on the barricades in 1848, but in tourism a few decades later, when resourceful citizens replaced the aristocracy as owners of castles such as Büchsenhausen and Weiherburg.

Opened in 1849, the Österreichischer Hof was long regarded as the top dog of the modern hotel industry, but was officially just a copy of a grand hotel. Only with the Grand Hotel Europa had opened a first-class establishment in Innsbruck in 1869. The heyday of the inns in the old town was over. In 1892, the zeitgeisty Reformhotel Habsburger Hof a second large business. Where the Metropolkino cinema stands today, the Kaiserhof was built as a new building. The Habsburg Court already offered its guests electric light, an absolute sensation. Also on the previously unused area in front of the railway station was the Arlberger Hof settled. What would be seen as a competitive disadvantage today was a selling point at the time. Railway stations were the centres of modern cities. Station squares were not overcrowded transport hubs as they are today, but sophisticated and well-kept places in front of the architecturally sophisticated halls where the trains arrived.

The number of guests increased slowly but steadily. Shortly before the outbreak of the First World War, Innsbruck had 200,000 guests. In June 1896, the Innsbrucker Nachrichten:

„Der Fremdenverkehr in Innsbruck bezifferte sich im Monat Mai auf 5647 Personen. Darunter befanden sich (außer 2763 Reisenden aus Oesterreich-Ungarn) 1974 Reichsdeutsche, 282 Engländer, 65 Italiener, 68 Franzosen, 53 Amerikaner, 51 Russen und 388 Personen aus verschiedenen anderen Ländern.“

In addition to the number of travellers who had an impact on life in the small town of Innsbruck, it was also the internationality of the visitors who gradually gave Innsbruck a new look. In addition to the purely touristic infrastructure, the development of general innovations was also accelerated. The wealthy guests could hardly socialise in pubs with cesspits behind their houses. Of course, a sewerage system would have been on the agenda anyway, but the economic factor of tourism made it possible and accelerated the release of funds for the major projects at the turn of the century. This not only changed the appearance of the town, but also people's everyday and working lives. Resourceful entrepreneurs such as Heinrich Menardi managed to expand the value chain to include paid holiday pleasures in addition to board and lodging. In 1880, he opened the Lohnkutscherei und Autovermietung Heinrich Menardi for excursions in the Alpine surroundings. Initially with carriages, and after the First World War with coaches and cars, wealthy tourists were chauffeured as far as Venice. The company still exists today and is now based in the Menardihaus at Wilhelm-Greil-Strasse 17 opposite Landhausplatz, even though over time the transport and trading industry shifted to the more lucrative property sector. Local trade also benefited from the wealthy clientele from abroad. In 1909, there were already three dedicated Tourist equipment shops next to the fashionable department stores that had just opened a few years earlier.

Innsbruck and the surrounding towns were also known for spa holidays, the predecessor of today's wellness, where well-heeled clients recovered from a wide variety of illnesses in an Alpine environment. The Igler Hof, back then Grandhotel Igler Hof and the Sporthotel Igls, still partly exude the chic of that time. Michael Obexer, the founder of the spa town of Igls and owner of the Grand Hotel, was a tourism pioneer. There were two spas in Egerdach near Amras and in Mühlau. The facilities were not as well-known as the hotspots of the time in Bad Ischl, Marienbad or Baden near Vienna, as can be seen on old photos and postcards, but the treatments with brine, steam, gymnastics and even magnetism were in line with the standards of the time, some of which are still popular with spa and wellness holidaymakers today. Bad Egerdach near Innsbruck had been known as a healing spring since the 17th century. The spring was said to cure gout, skin diseases, anaemia and even the nervous disorder known in the 19th century as neurasthenia, the predecessor of burnout. The institution's chapel still exists today opposite the SOS Children's Village. The bathing establishment in Mühlau has existed since 1768 and was converted into an inn and spa in the style of the time in the course of the 19th century. The former bathing establishment is now a residential building worth seeing in Anton-Rauch-Straße. However, the most spectacular tourist project that Innsbruck ever experienced was probably Hoch Innsbruck, today's Hungerburg. Not only the Hungerburg railway and hotels, but even its own lake was created here after the turn of the century to attract guests.

One of the former owners of the land of the Hungerburg and Innsbruck tourism pioneer, Richard von Attlmayr, was significantly involved in the predecessor of today's tourism association. Since 1881, the Innsbruck Beautification Association to satisfy the increasing needs of guests. The association took care of the construction of hiking and walking trails, the installation of benches and the development of impassable areas such as the Mühlauer Klamm or the Sillschlucht gorge. The striking green benches along many paths are a reminder of the still existing association. 1888 years later, the profiteers of tourism in Innsbruck founded the Commission for the promotion of tourismthe predecessor of today's tourism association. By joining forces in advertising and quality assurance at the accommodation establishments, the individual businesses hoped to further boost tourism.

„Alljährlich mehrt sich die Zahl der überseeischen Pilger, die unser Land und dessen gletscherbekrönte Berge zum Verdrusse unserer freundnachbarlichen Schweizer besuchen und manch klingenden Dollar zurücklassen. Die Engländer fangen an Tirol ebenso interessant zu finden wie die Schweiz, die Zahl der Franzosen und Niederländer, die den Sommer bei uns zubringen, mehrt sich von Jahr zu Jahr.“

Postkarten waren die ersten massentauglichen Influencer der Tourismusgeschichte. Viele Betriebe ließen ihre eigenen Postkarten drucken. Verlage produzierten unzählige Sujets der beliebtesten Sehenswürdigkeiten der Stadt. Es ist interessant zu sehen, was damals als sehenswert galt und auf den Karten abgebildet wurde. Anders als heute waren es vor allem die zeitgenössisch modernen Errungenschaften der Stadt: der Leopoldbrunnen, das Stadtcafé beim Theater, die Kettenbrücke, die Zahnradbahn auf die Hungerburg oder die 1845 eröffnete Stefansbrücke an der Brennerstraße, die als Steinbogen aus Quadern die Sill überquerte, waren die Attraktionen. Auch Andreas Hofer war ein gut funktionierendes Testimonial auf den Postkarten: Der Gasthof Schupfen in dem Andreas Hofer sein Hauptquartier hatte und der Berg Isel mit dem großen Andreas-Hofer-Denkmal waren gerne abgebildete Motive.

1914 gab es in Innsbruck 17 Hotels, die Gäste anlockten. Dazu kamen die Sommer- und Winterfrischler in Igls und dem Stubaital. Der Erste Weltkrieg ließ die erste touristische Welle mit einem Streich versanden. Gerade als sich der Fremdenverkehr Ende der 1920er Jahre langsam wieder erholt hatte, kamen mit der Wirtschaftskrise und Hitlers 1000 Mark blockThe next setback came in 1933, when he tried to put pressure on the Austrian government to end the ban on the NSDAP.

It required the Economic miracle in the 1950s and 1960s to revitalise tourism in Innsbruck after the destruction. Between 1955 and 1972, the number of overnight stays in Tyrol increased fivefold. After the arduous war years and the reconstruction of the European economy, Tyrol and Innsbruck were able to slowly but steadily establish tourism as a stable source of income, even away from the official hotels and guesthouses. Many Innsbruck families moved together in their already cramped flats to supplement their household budgets by renting out beds to guests from abroad. Tourism not only brought in foreign currency, but also enabled the locals to create a new image of themselves both internally and externally. At the same time, the economic upturn made it possible for more and more Innsbruck residents to go on holiday abroad. The beaches of Italy were particularly popular. The wartime enemies of previous decades became guests and hosts.