Alter Militärfriedhof Pradl

Anzengruberstraße

Worth knowing

Today, the k.u.k. military cemetery lies in the middle of a densely built-up residential area between Anzengruberstraße and Resselstraße. At the time of its construction, however, the land south of the village of Pradl was used for agriculture. While cemeteries in the Middle Ages were usually established next to churches—in the very center of towns and villages—they gradually shifted toward the outskirts, and, when possible, even beyond them. By the 19th century, the growing demand for hygiene had become so widely accepted that cemeteries located between houses and shops were no longer considered acceptable. At that time, concerns were less focused on groundwater contamination than on harmful miasmas believed to pollute the air. By creating the new cemetery, authorities not only moved a problematic facility beyond the town limits—they also ensured practical proximity to the garrison hospital that had recently opened in the Kohlstatt area, just a short walk away. The burial ground was established in 1831 at the behest of the Imperial Court War Council, the predecessor of the k.u.k. Ministry of War. The “rebranding” from Ministry of War to today’s Ministry of Defense illustrates how deeply attitudes and ideas surrounding war have changed since the two World Wars. A glance at the list of military conflicts between the founding of the Austrian Empire in 1806 and the First World War shows that peace in the 19th century was merely a brief interruption in an otherwise continuous state of warfare. In 1844, the wall surrounding the cemetery was built, replacing an earlier earthen embankment that had protected the graves. The chapel was also constructed that same year. The preserved gravestones reach far back in time and hint at the importance of the military in past centuries. Since the 18th century, the army had become a significant social force. The ever-growing armies required more personnel than ever before. Small, locally recruited militias evolved into massive, centrally organized forces. For subjects, military service opened up career opportunities. Soldiers not only enjoyed regular pay; they also held a status within society that was considerably higher than today, where military service is perceived by most people as a burdensome obligation. Fulfilling one’s patriotic duty in the field was considered honorable, particularly among the lower nobility and the upper middle class. Young men who had few prospects due to inheritance customs or lack of family wealth could build careers. In addition to pay and honor, army membership also offered comparatively strong social security. In the 19th century, it was even possible to earn a place among the lower nobility through battlefield merit.

A walk through the old Pradl military cemetery reveals not only artistically crafted graves but also period-specific formulations of the long-romanticized “hero’s death” for God, Emperor, and Fatherland. Only a small number of those buried here, however, actually died on the battlefield. In addition to members of combat units, employees of the Burghauptmannschaft—responsible in the 19th century for various aspects of local infrastructure—were also allowed to be buried here. The state cared for its personnel and their families in both life and death, regardless of how their lives or deaths unfolded. Two well-known sons of Innsbruck found their final resting place in the military cemetery without ever having encountered the enemy. The defiant poet Johann Chrysostomus Senn was buried here as a former k.k. military member, despite long being viewed with suspicion by the authorities. As a member of a liberal German-national student fraternity, he was forced to leave Vienna after serving a prison sentence. In Tyrol, he enlisted in the military and rose to the rank of lieutenant. After his military career, he failed to gain recognition for his intellectual and lyrical talent. Although he belonged to the circle around Adolf Pichler, unlike his friend he was unable to build a career either before or after 1848. Senn worked as a day laboring clerk and increasingly succumbed to alcoholism. Only posthumously did he receive honor and recognition for his volumes of poetry; he died impoverished. As a former soldier, however, he was able to spend his final days in the garrison hospital in Innsbruck and receive a grave in the Pradl military cemetery instead of an anonymous mass grave. His modest gravestone was financed by Adolf Pichler. A second prominent Innsbrucker, railway entrepreneur Josef Riehl, is also buried in the cemetery. Unlike the impoverished Senn, he did not find his final resting place in a modest grave, but in an impressive family tomb complete with elaborate sculptures of women and girls. Both Senn and Riehl are remembered today not only through their graves in the military cemetery but also through street names in Innsbruck.

1796 - 1866: Vom Herzen Jesu bis Königgrätz

The period between the French Revolution and the Battle of Königgrätz in 1866 was a highly warlike era. Many of the later political attitudes, animosities toward other groups, and the European nationalism of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries—which would also shape the history of Innsbruck—had their roots in the conflicts of this time. The monarchies of Europe, led by the Catholic Habsburgs, declared war on the French Republic. Although revolutionary Paris was far away and no comprehensive press system existed for the dissemination of news, the alleged godlessness of the murderers of Marie Antoinette was effectively spread through pamphlets and sermons from church pulpits. Fear arose that the revolutionary slogan “Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité,” along with its principles, might spread throughout Europe. During the Coalition Wars, a young general named Napoleon Bonaparte advanced across the Alps in 1796 with his Italian army and encountered Austrian troops. This was not merely a war over territory and power—it was a clash of systems. The Grande Armée of revolutionary France confronted the forces of the conservative and Catholic Habsburgs. Tyrolean riflemen (Schützen) actively participated in the fighting, defending the province’s borders against the advancing French. The men were accustomed to handling weapons and were considered skilled marksmen. The historian Ludwig Denk described this in a publication from 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 Hötting Rifle Company, established in 1796, lay not in open field battles but in guerrilla warfare. Moreover, they believed they had a secret weapon against the most advanced army of the time: the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Since 1719, Jesuit missionaries had spread devotion to the Sacred Heart even in the most remote valleys, successfully establishing it as a unifying force in the struggle against pagan customs and Protestantism. Faced with the godless revolutionary French, it seemed only natural that the Sacred Heart would once again—after 1703—watch protectively over the Tyrolean warriors of God. In desperate circumstances, the Tyrolean troops renewed their covenant. Against all odds, the riflemen succeeded in their defensive efforts. The abbot of Stams Abbey petitioned the provincial estates that, henceforth, “the Feast of the Divine Heart of Jesus should be celebrated annually with a solemn church service, if Tyrol were freed from the threat of enemy danger.”

Victory in this battle did not change the outcome of the war against Napoleon’s overwhelming forces, nor did it alter the territorial expansion of Tyrol—while Innsbruck’s population declined. During the turmoil of war, the Habsburg territory had expanded without notable military success—and likely without the help of the Sacred Heart. The archiepiscopal territory of Trentino became part of the crown lands through a territorial settlement known as the Reichsdeputationshauptschluss in the final phase of the Holy Roman Empire before its dissolution in 1803. Innsbruck, however, shrank. Fallen soldiers and war-related economic hardship led to a decline in the population from over 9,500 around 1750 to approximately 8,800 in the early decades of the nineteenth century. While this may seem modest in absolute numbers, the consequences were severe: stagnation in urban life. Young men were missing—as labourers, husbands, and fathers. This wartime recession remains largely underrepresented in the city’s historiography. Perhaps the near absence of Biedermeier architecture in Innsbruck can be seen as a subtle reminder of these difficult years. 

After the Napoleonic Wars and the reorganisation of Europe at the Congress of Vienna, Tyrol’s borders remained largely peaceful for around thirty years. This changed with the Italian Risorgimento, the national movement led by Sardinia‑Piedmont and France. In 1848, 1859, and 1866, the so‑called Italian Wars of Unification took place. Over the course of the nineteenth century—at the latest since 1848—a fervent nationalist enthusiasm spread among young men of the upper classes across Europe. Volunteer armies sprang up everywhere. Students and academics formed associations; gymnasts and riflemen alike sought to prove their newfound national identity on the battlefield, supporting official armies against their respective enemies. During this time, Innsbruck served as an important logistical hub as a garrison town. Following the Congress of Vienna, the Tyrolean Jäger Corps became the Imperial and Royal Tyrolean Kaiserjäger Regiment, an elite unit deployed in these conflicts. Volunteer formations such as the Innsbruck Academics and the Stubai Riflemen also fought in Italy. Thousands fell in battle against a coalition consisting of the traditional enemy France, the particularly “godless” Redshirts under Giuseppe Garibaldi, and the emerging Kingdom of Italy, formed at Austria’s expense under the leadership of the Francophile House of Savoy from Piedmont. The media further inflamed sentiment behind the front lines. The Innsbrucker Zeitung preached loyalty to the emperor and a Greater German‑Tyrolean nationalism, railed against Italians and the French, and celebrated the bravery of Tyrolean soldiers. One report stated:

“The strong occupation of the heights at the exit of the Valsugana near Primolano and Le Tezze has often given the Innsbruck Academics I and the Stubai riflemen cause to undertake voluntary excursions against Le Tezze, Fonzago, and Fastro, as well as to the right bank of the Brenta and the heights opposite the small camps of the Sette Comuni… On the 19th, the Stubai riflemen had already struck down several enemies when they ventured down for the first time, creeping up on them…”

Probably the most famous battle of the Wars of unification fand in Solferino 1859 in der Nähe des Gardasees statt. Entsetzt vom blutigen Geschehen entschloss sich Henry Durant das Rote Kreuz zu gründen. Der Schriftsteller Joseph Roth beschrieb das Geschehen auf den ersten Seiten seines Romans 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 proved particularly catastrophic for the Austrian Empire. In Italy, Venetia and Lombardy were lost. In the north, the Habsburg army suffered a devastating defeat at the Battle of Königgrätz. After this short “brother’s war,” Prussia took over leadership of the German Confederation from the Habsburgs. Austria’s reorientation toward the east meant that Innsbruck definitively became a city on the western periphery of the empire. This shift was accompanied by a resurgence of nationalist ideas, particularly among Innsbruck’s liberal upper bourgeoisie. Support for the “Greater German solution”—a united state with the German Empire rather than the Austro‑Hungarian Monarchy—was especially strong. The extent to which this German Question divided the city became apparent more than thirty years later, when the Innsbruck city council proposed naming a street after Otto von Bismarck. While conservative loyalists reacted with outrage, the liberal Greater German faction around Mayor Wilhelm Greil welcomed the idea. After the Second World War, the defeat at Königgrätz supported Austria’s narrative of being the first victim of National Socialism, as it had already been excluded from a unified German state in 1866.

To this day, the conflicts at Tyrol’s southern borders continue to shape tradition and the cityscape. The Sacred Heart celebrations were long marked by great pomp and, especially in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, developed into a volatile mixture of superstition, Catholicism, and ethnic nationalism directed against French and Italian influences. Countless soldiers continued to entrust their fate to the Sacred Heart even amidst the shellfire of the First World War. Alongside Cranach’s Madonna of Mercy, the flaming Sacred Heart remains one of the most popular Christian motifs in Tyrol and adorns the façades of countless buildings. With sites such as the Tummelplatz, the Pradl Military Cemetery, and the Kaiserjäger Museum on Bergisel, Innsbruck preserves several places of remembrance for these bloody conflicts, in which many of its residents marched off to war and never returned.

The First World War

An Innsbruck student nearly changed the course of world history instead of Gavrilo Princip. In 1913, the young man boasted to a waitress about his plans to shoot the heir to the throne, but he was arrested before he could carry them out. Only when the world-changing shots were actually fired in Sarajevo a year later did an article appear in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten on June 30 about the events. The consequences that the First World War, which subsequently broke out, would have for the world and for people's everyday lives could not yet be foreseen after the assassination of Franz Ferdinand on June 28. Two days after the murder of the Habsburg heir in Sarajevo, readers in Innsbruck were already reading prophetic words in their newspaper: “We have arrived at a turning point – perhaps the turning point – in the destiny of this empire.” In Innsbruck, too, enthusiasm for war was widespread in 1914. Driven by the slogan of the time, “God, Emperor, and Fatherland,” the vast majority of people unanimously welcomed the attack on Serbia. Politicians, the clergy, and the press fuelled the general jubilation. Particularly “deserving” in promoting the war were the two theologians Joseph Seeber (1856–1919) and Anton Müllner, known as Brother Willram (1870–1919), who, through their sermons and writings such as The Bloody Year, elevated the war into a crusade against France and Italy. In addition to the imperial proclamation To My Peoples, which appeared throughout the media of the Empire, the Innsbrucker Nachrichten published an article on July 29, the day after Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia, about Prince Eugene's capture of Belgrade in 1717. The tone in the media was celebratory, although not entirely without dark forebodings of what was to come.

"The Emperor's appeal to his people will be deeply felt. The internal strife has been silenced and the speculations of our enemies about unrest and similar things have been miserably put to shame. Above all, the Germans stand by the Emperor and the Empire in their old and well-tried loyalty: this time, too, they are ready to stand up for dynasty and fatherland with their blood. We are facing difficult days; no one can even guess what fate will bring us, what it will bring to Europe, what it will bring to the world. We can only trust with our old Emperor in our strength and in God and cherish the confidence that, if we find unity and stick together, we must be granted victory, for we did not want war and our cause is that of justice!"

Many Innsbruck residents volunteered for the campaign against Serbia, which was believed to be a matter of only a few weeks or months. So many volunteers poured into Innsbruck from outside the city to report to the recruitment commissions that the city was almost bursting at the seams. No one could imagine how differently things would turn out. After the first battles in distant Galicia, it became clear that this would not be over within a few months. The Imperial Riflemen (Kaiserjäger) and other Tyrolean troops were effectively sacrificed. Poor equipment, inadequate supplies, and the catastrophic leadership of the High Command under Conrad von Hötzendorf led thousands either to their deaths or into captivity, where hunger, abuse, and forced labour awaited them. In 1915, Italy entered the war on the side of France and Britain. Under the infamous secret Treaty of London, the young kingdom had been promised generous territorial gains in return for supporting the Entente against Germany and Austria. On May 23, the former ally declared war on the Habsburg Empire. Until regular troops could be transferred from the Eastern Front, regional defence depended on the Standschützen, a force consisting of men under 21, over 42, or those deemed unfit for regular military service. Correspondingly, casualties were high. Fighting in the mountain war stretched from the Ortler in the west across the northern shore of Lake Garda to the Sexten Dolomites. Innsbruck itself was not directly affected by military operations. At the very least, however, the sounds of war could be heard in the provincial capital, as reported in the newspaper of July 7, 1915:

“Soon after the Italians commenced hostilities, cannon fire could clearly be heard in the region of the Serles peak, coming from one of the battlefields in southern Tyrol, probably the Vielgereut plateau. In recent days, the sound of artillery fire has also undoubtedly been detected in Innsbruck itself and in the northeastern parts of the city — individual powerful blasts, dull rather than rolling and resonant, echoing across the Brenner Pass. There can be no mistake. In Innsbruck itself, the thunder of the guns is more difficult to detect because of the noise of the city, but on one occasion, around 9 p.m., when there was some degree of quiet, this unmistakable thunder, originating from our mortars, was clearly heard.”

Although the front was far away, the war increasingly penetrated civilian life. This total involvement of society in warfare was a new phenomenon. The mass mobilization of a large proportion of the working male population brought many businesses to a complete standstill. Shop shelves remained empty, public transport services ceased, and craftsmen and labourers were called up for military service. Companies still able to operate were subordinated to the wartime economy. By the “Hunger Winter” of 1917, Innsbruck’s economy had almost completely collapsed. Food, coal, and firewood were in short supply, and hunger and cold became bitter enemies of women, children, the wounded, and those unfit for military service. During the final years of the war, provisions were distributed through ration cards. The basic weekly allowance per person amounted to 500 grams of meat, 60 grams of butter, and 2 kilograms of potatoes. Archive photographs show long queues of desperate and hungry people outside food shops. Protests and strikes repeatedly broke out. Politicians, trade unionists, workers, and returning soldiers saw an opportunity for change. Under the slogan “Peace, Bread, and Suffrage,” parties of many different political backgrounds united in opposition to the war. The cityscape also changed. Barracks were erected in Höttinger Au to house prisoners of war. Wounded soldiers arrived in such large numbers that civilian buildings, including the university library then under construction and Ambras Castle, were converted into military hospitals. A predecessor of today’s Tram Line 3 was established to transport the wounded from the railway station to the new garrison hospital, today’s Conrad Barracks in Pradl. To cope with the large number of fallen soldiers, the Pradl Military Cemetery was created.

As the war neared its end, the front also drew closer. In February 1918, the Italian air force succeeded in dropping three bombs on Innsbruck. The Neue Freie Presse reported for the first time on the secret Treaty of London, heightening Tyrolean anxiety over the threatened loss of territory south of the Brenner Pass. By then, most people already knew the war was lost and sensed the fate that awaited Tyrol, as this article of October 6, 1918, demonstrates:

“External and internal enemies are gambling today with the land of Andreas Hofer. The latest throw of the dice is even more cruel; never before has a free land been bartered away so disgracefully. The blood of our fathers, sons, and brothers has been shed in vain if this shameful plan becomes reality. The final throw has not yet been made. Therefore, Tyroleans, attend the Tyrolean People’s Assembly in Brixen on October 13, 1918 (next Sunday). German soil must remain German; Tyrolean soil must remain Tyrolean. Tyroleans, decide your own future!”

On November 4, Austria-Hungary and the Kingdom of Italy finally agreed to an armistice. Part of the agreement granted Italy the right to occupy territory of the monarchy. Alarm bells immediately rang among Austria-Hungary’s allies in the German Empire. On the very next day, Bavarian troops entered Innsbruck. Germany was still at war with Italy and feared that the front might shift into North Tyrol, bringing it closer to German territory. Fortunately for Innsbruck and the surrounding region, Germany also capitulated one week later on November 11. As a result, major military engagements between regular armies were avoided.

Nevertheless, Innsbruck remained in danger. Massive convoys of military vehicles, trains packed with soldiers, and thousands of exhausted troops making their way home on foot passed through the city. Anyone who could jumped onto overcrowded trains or military vehicles to leave the front behind and return home. In November 1918 alone, more than 270 soldiers lost their lives during these reckless attempts or had to be admitted to one of the city’s hospitals. The city not only had to maintain order among its own citizens and ensure food supplies but also protect itself against looting. To preserve public order, the Tyrolean National Council established a citizens’ militia on November 5 composed of pupils, students, workers, and ordinary citizens. On November 23, 1918, Italian troops occupied the city and its surroundings. More than 80,000 Italian soldiers were stationed in Tyrol, around 5,000 of whom required accommodation in the starving and destitute city. Schools were turned into barracks. Mayor Greil’s conciliatory appeal to surrender the city peacefully succeeded. There were isolated disturbances, food riots, and incidents of looting, but there were no armed clashes with the occupation troops and no Bolshevik revolution such as the one that occurred in Munich.

The consequences of the First World War for Innsbruck’s population were devastating. More than 1,200 people lost their lives on battlefields or in military hospitals, while approximately 600 were wounded. Memorials to the First World War and its victims can be found throughout Innsbruck, particularly at churches and cemeteries. The Kaiserjäger Museum on Bergisel displays uniforms, weapons, and photographs from the war. The theologians Anton Müllner and Josef Seeber have streets named after them in Innsbruck. A street was also named after Archduke Eugene, commander-in-chief of the Austro-Hungarian Army on the Southern Front. A monument to the unsuccessful military leader stands in front of the Hofgarten. The eastern section of the Amras Military Cemetery commemorates the Italian occupation.