Schießstand Berg Isel

Die Zeit der Napoleonischen Kriege bescherte dem Land Tirol ein nationales Epos und mit Andreas Hofer einen Helden, dessen Glanz bis in die heutige Zeit strahlt. Subtrahiert man allerdings die sorgsam konstruierte Legende vom Tiroler Aufstand gegen die Fremdherrschaft, war die Zeit vor und nach 1809 ein dunkles Kapitel in der Innsbrucker Stadtgeschichte, geprägt von wirtschaftlichen Nöten, Kriegsverheerung und mehreren Plünderungen. Das Königreich Bayern war während der Napoleonischen Kriege mit Frankreich verbündet und konnte in mehreren Auseinandersetzungen zwischen 1796 und 1805 das Land Tirol von den Habsburgern übernehmen. Innsbruck war nicht mehr Hauptstadt eines Kronlandes, sondern nur noch eine von vielen Kreishauptstädten der Verwaltungseinheit Innkreis. Einnahmen aus Maut und Zoll sowie auf das Haller Salz verließen das Land Richtung Norden. Die britische Kolonialsperre gegen Napoleon hatte zur Folge, dass der stets florierende und Wohlstand bringende Innsbrucker Fernhandel und das Transportwesen als Wirtschaftszweige einbrachen. Innsbrucker Bürger mussten bayerische Soldaten in ihren Häusern einquartieren. Die Aufhebung der Tiroler Landesregierung, des Guberniums und des Tiroler Landtags bedeuteten aber nicht nur den Verlust von Status, sondern auch von Arbeitsplätzen und finanziellen Mitteln. Ganz vom Geist der Aufklärung, der Vernunft und der Französischen Revolution beseelt, machten sich die neuen Landesherren daran, die althergebrachte Ordnung umzukrempeln. Während die Stadt, wie es zu jeder Zeit ist, unter dem Kriegstreiben finanziell litt, eröffneten sich gesellschaftspolitisch durch den Umbruch neue Möglichkeiten. Der Krieg ist der Vater aller Dinge, vielen Bürgern kam der frische Wind nicht ungelegen. Moderne Gesetze wie die Gassen-Säuberungs-Ordnung oder eine verpflichtende Pockenimpfung sollten Sauberkeit und Gesundheit in der Stadt zuträglich sein. Zu Anfang des 19. Jahrhunderts verstarb noch immer eine beträchtliche Anzahl von Menschen an Krankheiten, die auf mangelnde Hygiene und verseuchtem Trinkwasser zurückzuführen waren. Ein neues Steuersystem wurde eingeführt und die Befugnisse des Adels weiter verringert. Die bayerische Verwaltung erlaubt das 1797 verbotene Vereinswesen wieder. Auch das Zurückdrängen der Kirche aus dem Bildungswesen gefiel liberalen Innsbruckern. Ein Beispiel für die Reformen war die Berufung des Benediktinerpaters und späteren Mitbegründers des Musikvereins Innsbrucks Martin Goller nach Innsbruck, um die musikalische und kulturelle Ausbildung in der Stadt zu forcieren.

These reforms were unpopular with a large portion of the Tyrolean population. Catholic processions and religious festivals fell victim to the Enlightenment‑driven agenda of the new rulers. In 1808, the Bavarian king introduced the Municipal Edict (Gemeindeedikt) throughout his entire realm. This decree obliged subjects to maintain public buildings, wells, roads, bridges, and other infrastructure. For Tyrolean farmers—who for centuries had largely been exempt from compulsory labour—this represented an additional burden and an affront to their sense of social status. The spark that ignited the powder keg was the conscription of young men into the Bavarian‑Napoleonic army, despite the provisions of the Landlibell, a law issued by Emperor Maximilian I, which stipulated that Tyroleans could be called up only for the defence of their own borders. On 10 April 1809, a disturbance broke out during a conscription in Axams near Innsbruck, which ultimately led to an uprising. For God, Emperor, and Fatherland, units of the Tyrolean territorial defence assembled to expel the small Bavarian military contingent and administrative officials from Innsbruck. The marksmen were led by Andreas Hofer (1767–1810), an innkeeper and wine and horse trader from the Passeier Valley in South Tyrol near Meran. At his side stood not only other Tyroleans such as Father Haspinger, Peter Mayr, and Josef Speckbacher, but also—working behind the scenes—Habsburg Archduke Johann.

Once in Innsbruck, the Tiroler Schützen not only plundered official facilities. As with the peasants' revolt under Michael Gaismair, their heroism was fuelled not only by adrenaline but also by alcohol. The wild mob was probably more damaging to the city than the Bavarian administrators had been since 1805, and the "liberators" rioted violently, particularly against middle-class ladies and the small Jewish population of Innsbruck.

In July 1809, following the Peace of Znojmo concluded with the Habsburgs—a treaty still regarded by many as a Viennese betrayal of Tyrol—Bavarian and French forces regained control of Innsbruck. What followed was the episode that would enter the history books as the Tyrolean Uprising under Andreas Hofer, who by then had assumed supreme command of the Tyrolean territorial defence. In total, the Tyrolean insurgents managed to carry victory from the battlefield three times. The third battle, fought in August 1809 on Mount Isel, is particularly well known. A contemporary account records: “Innsbruck sees and hears what it has never seen or heard before: a battle of 40,000 combatants …” For a brief period, in the absence of regular authorities, Andreas Hofer served as Tyrol’s commander‑in‑chief, also responsible for civilian affairs. Innsbruck’s dire financial situation, however, did not improve. Instead of Bavarian and French soldiers, the city’s inhabitants now had to quarter and feed their own compatriots from the peasant regiments and pay taxes to the new provincial government. The city’s liberal and wealthy elites in particular were unhappy with the new rulers. The decrees issued by Hofer as provincial commander were more reminiscent of a theocratic state than of a nineteenth‑century legal code. Women were permitted to appear in public only when modestly veiled; dance events were forbidden; and revealing monuments, such as the nymphs on the Leopold Fountain, were removed from public space. Educational responsibilities were to be returned to the clergy. Liberals and intellectuals were arrested, while the praying of the rosary became mandatory. In autumn 1809, the fourth and final Battle of Mount Isel ended in a decisive defeat at the hands of the French forces. The government in Vienna had largely used the Tyrolean insurgents as a tactical buffer in its war against Napoleon. Even earlier, the Emperor had been forced to cede Tyrol officially in the Treaty of Schönbrunn. Between 1810 and 1814, Innsbruck once again came under Bavarian administration. The population itself was by then only weakly motivated to continue fighting. The district of Wilten suffered particularly severe damage during the hostilities, with its population shrinking from over 1,000 inhabitants to fewer than 700. At this time, Hofer himself was already a man visibly marked by physical strain and alcohol. He was captured and executed in Mantua on 20 January 1810. To compound matters, the country was divided: the Adige Valley and Trentino became part of Napoleon’s newly created Kingdom of Italy, while the Puster Valley was annexed to the French‑controlled Illyrian Provinces.

The “fight for freedom” continues to symbolise the Tyrolean self‑image to this day. For a long time, Andreas Hofer was regarded as an undisputed hero and the prototype of the resilient, patriotic, and steadfast Tyrolean—the underdog who resisted foreign domination and unholy customs. In reality, Hofer was likely a charismatic leader, but politically inept, conservative‑clerical, and simple‑minded. His tactical principle at the Third Battle of Mount Isel—“Grad nit aufferlassen tiat sie” (“You just must not let them come up”)—captures his character quite well. In conservative Tyrolean circles such as the marksmen (Schützen), Hofer continues to be venerated in an uncritical and quasi‑cultic manner. The Tyrolean marksmen tradition is a living form of heritage that has modernised in some respects, yet in many darker corners remains reactionary in orientation. To this day, marksmen from Wilten, Amras, Pradl, and Hötting march in harmony alongside clergy, traditional costume associations, and brass bands in church processions, firing rifles into the air to drive all evil away from Tyrol and the Catholic Church. Throughout the city, numerous monuments commemorate the year 1809. During the second half of the nineteenth century, the fighters were increasingly heroised as a German bulwark against foreign peoples. Mount Isel was made available to the city for the veneration of the freedom fighters by Wilten Abbey, the Catholic authority in Innsbruck. Streets in the Wilten district—incorporated into Innsbruck in 1904 during a period dominated by a Greater German liberal city council and long administered by the Abbey—were named after Andreas Hofer and his comrades Josef Speckbacher, Peter Mayr, Father Haspinger, and Kajetan Sweth. The short Rote Gassl (Red Alley) in the historic centre of Wilten commemorates the Tyrolean marksmen who—supposedly clad in red uniforms, probably erroneously attributed to them—are said to have paid mass homage at this spot to the victorious commander Hofer after the second Battle of Mount Isel. To this day, Andreas Hofer is frequently invoked in Tyrol in support of a wide range of initiatives and agendas. Especially during the nationalism of the nineteenth century, repeated reference was made to the idealised hero Andreas Hofer. Through paintings, pamphlets, and theatrical performances he was elevated to iconic status. Even today, one can still see the likeness of the senior marksman when Tyroleans protest against unpopular measures of the federal government, EU transit regulations, or—somewhat incongruously—when FC Wacker Innsbruck faces away teams. The slogan in such cases is: “Men, it’s time!” The legend of the battle‑hardened Tyrolean farmer—working the fields by day and training in the evening at the shooting range as a sharpshooter and defender of the homeland—is repeatedly revived to reinforce an image of “authentic” Tyrolean identity. The commemorations marking the anniversary of Andreas Hofer’s death on 20 February continue to draw large crowds from all parts of Tyrol to Innsbruck. Only in recent decades has a more critical reassessment emerged of this staunchly conservative marksman captain, likely overwhelmed by his role as Tyrol’s provincial commander, who—encouraged by elements of the Habsburg dynasty and the Catholic Church—sought not only to repel French and Bavarian forces but also to keep the liberal ideas of the Enlightenment firmly out of Tyrol.