Between the last Count of Andechs and the first Tyrolean territorial prince from the House of Habsburg lay 115 eventful years in the history of the city of Innsbruck. After the extinction of the Andechs line, the Counts of Tyrol guided the fortunes of the region for about a hundred years and thus also largely shaped the development of the city of Innsbruck. Meinhard II of Tyrol (1239–1295) succeeded, through skillful politics and a measure of good fortune, in expanding his territory. From his ancestral seat in Merano, he managed to unite what had previously been a patchwork of lands into a coherent county. Alongside the Prince-Bishops of Brixen and Trent—who were not politically disempowered until the 19th century—the Counts of Tyrol were the most powerful territorial lords in the region that today encompasses Trentino as well as North and South Tyrol. Meinhard’s more modern and tightly administered territories were politically and economically closer to the pulse of the times. His advisers included Florentine merchants and bankers, who at the time represented the most advanced financial and commercial expertise in Europe. Under his rule, a codified territorial law was created, granting estates, entrepreneurs, and subjects a certain degree of legal security. For the first time, all possessions in Tyrol were uniformly recorded in a land register (Urbar). Financial matters were also brought under centralized control. Meinhard broke the bishops’ monopoly on coinage and had coins minted bearing the Tyrolean eagle, following Italian models. This significantly curtailed the de facto power of the Church. Although the bishops of Brixen and Trent remained landowners and feudal lords, their imperial immediacy had become largely formal, as their ties and dependencies on the County of Tyrol had grown too close. In 1254, the territory was no longer referred to merely as the “land in the mountains,” but officially as the Dominium Tirolis—the Lordship of Tyrol. Innsbruck also grew under Meinhard’s rule, with approximately 1,500 inhabitants settling there. Beyond the city walls, the Neustadt began to develop in the area where Maria-Theresien-Straße today invites leisurely strolling. Meinhard found his final resting place at Stams Abbey, which today is known as a training center for Tyrol’s winter sports elite.

His son and successor as Tyrolean territorial prince, Duke Henry of Carinthia (1265–1335), ranked among the most important nobles in the Holy Roman Empire as King of Bohemia. Owing to his extensive possessions in southeastern Europe, Henry was one of the most powerful princes of his time. He was a strong supporter of cities, recognizing their growing importance. In Innsbruck, he promoted the construction of the civic hospital in the Neustadt. However, Henry had no male heir. Before his death, he ensured that his daughter Margaret of Tyrol-Gorizia (1318–1369) could succeed him. She assumed power as territorial princess at the age of seventeen. This placed the young ruler at the center of power struggles among the leading dynasties of the age: the Habsburgs, the Wittelsbachs, and the Luxembourgs. She entered marital alliances with two of these houses; the third would ultimately inherit the County of Tyrol and thus the city of Innsbruck. After her father’s death, Margaret was married to John Henry of Luxembourg, the son of the new King of Bohemia. John Henry was even younger than his wife and primarily served as a political foothold for his father in Tyrol. He was opposed by the Habsburgs and Wittelsbachs as well as by the local nobility. His rule proved disastrous. In the Hall saltworks—leased to Florentine financiers and, alongside customs duties, the backbone of Tyrol’s economy—labor unrest broke out. Despite severe financial difficulties, the court of John Henry was reportedly conducted in an extravagant manner. In 1341, with the support of Emperor Louis of Bavaria, a Wittelsbach, the Tyrolean estates expelled John Henry from the country in a coup planned together with Margaret. Contemporary sources hostile to Margaret portrayed her in highly polemical and defamatory terms. [Here, contemporary scandalous descriptions and explicit allegations are omitted or neutralized.] An imperial chronicler sympathetic to the emperor described John Henry as incapable of fulfilling marital duties, allegedly due to immaturity. These rumors were deliberately circulated throughout the empire to enable the emperor to install his son, Louis of Brandenburg, as Margaret’s new husband and thus as ruler of the strategically important transit territory of Tyrol. This coup, which entered history as the “Tyrolean marital scandal,” triggered a far-reaching crisis. Even the philosopher and critic of papal authority William of Ockham commented on the affair. The issue was not merely the separation itself, but the fact that Margaret had not been formally divorced from her first husband at the time of her second marriage. The emperor and his supporters regarded the marriage between John Henry and Margaret as unconsummated and therefore invalid. The fourth major political power of Central Europe at the time, the papacy, took a different view. Pope Benedict XII excommunicated the emperor and his son because of what he considered an unlawful union between Margaret and Louis of Brandenburg. Beyond moral concerns, the pope also had political motives. Both the papacy and the Habsburgs were in armed conflict with the Wittelsbach emperor and sought to weaken his influence. For medieval society, such an interdict was among the harshest of punishments, as it prohibited the celebration of Mass and the administration of communion throughout the land. It was likely during this period that Margaret acquired the popular nickname “Maultasch” and was described as particularly unattractive. No contemporary portraits exist that would indicate any physical deformity. The images of Margaret Maultasch known today date at the earliest from the late 15th century, when the medieval scandal was first reinterpreted by later historians.

Margaret’s reign was marked by crises for which she bore little responsibility, yet for which she was often blamed. The 14th century brought a period of climatic warming that led to severe locust plagues, including in Innsbruck. Crop failures and famine followed. In addition, after the fire of 1333 in Anbruggen, another major blaze devastated Wilten and Innsbruck seven years later, destroying the parish church of St. James. From 1348 to 1350, the plague swept across Europe. Arriving from Venice via Trent and the Adige Valley, the Black Death reached Innsbruck and dramatically reduced the population. In some parts of Tyrol, more than half of the inhabitants perished. The horrifying manner in which victims died left a deep impression on the deeply religious population. Archival sources provide little detailed information on the outbreak of the plague in Innsbruck itself, but its consequences were devastating, as elsewhere in Europe. In her will, a woman from Innsbruck afflicted by the plague spoke of the “common dying that goes through the land.” Many people interpreted famine and pestilence as divine punishment and as consequences of the papal ban, blaming Margaret and her husband Louis. In reality, the causes of disease and suffering lay far beyond ecclesiastical sanctions and propaganda. Like many medieval cities, Innsbruck lacked paved streets, sewage systems, and reliable drinking water supplies. Humans and animals shared the confined space within the city walls, resulting in highly unhygienic living conditions. Advances in medical knowledge came primarily from Italy. In Salerno, the first medical school had emerged in the 11th century. Under Emperor Frederick II, the professions of physician and apothecary were formally separated and regulated in 1241. In Innsbruck, a pharmacy was first mentioned in 1303 and officially founded in 1326. Located in the Schöpferhaus at today’s Herzog-Friedrich-Straße 19, it served as both court and city pharmacy and is now considered the oldest still-existing pharmacy in Austria.

After the Wittelsbachs, Luxembourgers and Habsburgs had fought over Tyrol for decades, a happy ending was finally reached. Rudolf IV of the House of Habsburg intervened with the Pope and was able to negotiate the lifting of the interdict in 1359 in exchange for considerable financial compensation at the expense of Margaret and Louis. At the same time, a document is said to have been drawn up that is now considered a forgery: in this document, Margaret bequeathed the land of Tyrol to Rudolf IV and the Habsburg family.

Soon thereafter, this transfer of power took effect. One year after the death of Margaret’s husband Louis in 1361, her son Meinhard III also died. According to the account of Filippo Villani, written around 1400, Margaret was rumored to have been involved in both deaths—an allegation that remains historically unproven. In 1363, with the consent of the Tyrolean nobility, Margaret formally transferred the governance of Tyrol to Rudolf IV of Habsburg. Tyrol thus became part of the Habsburg dominions, which already included the Duchy of Austria. The Dukes of Bavaria from the House of Wittelsbach refused to recognize this inheritance treaty and attempted to assert their claims by force of arms. In 1363, they marched toward Innsbruck. Rudolf IV, however, had secured the support of key local nobles and the cities of Innsbruck and Hall. The fortified city successfully withstood the attack. After consolidating power, Rudolf confirmed the city hospital and granted temporary customs exemptions as well as the right to levy major tolls.

With the acquisition of Tyrol, the Habsburg family was able to close an important geographical gap within its sphere of influence. Although there were repeated incursions by Bavarian troops, for example the abbot of Wilten Abbey was abducted and taken hostage, the Inn Valley and Innsbruck were gladly part of the Habsburg lands. The incorporation of the city into the much larger territory of the Habsburgs meant that Innsbruck became even more important, while the actual capital Merano was further marginalised. In addition to the north-south transport of goods, the city on the Inn had now also become a west-east transport hub between the eastern Austrian lands and the old Habsburg possessions in the west. For the survivors of the great plague wave of 1348 and the political turmoil, there was an economic upswing. Labour had become scarce due to the shrinking population, but greater resources were available per capita. For those Innsbruck residents who had survived the turbulent first half of the 14th century, better times were to come.

Little remains in Innsbruck’s cityscape from the era of Margaret Maultasch and her husbands. Political and economic hardship, warfare, plague, fires, earthquakes, and later building activity erased much of the medieval city. Yet the memory of Margaret endures in legend. She remains one of the most famous female figures in Tyrolean history. Conflicting accounts written even during her lifetime allow room for interpretation. Her biography could easily serve as the template for a character in a modern historical drama. Whether she was a ruthless schemer or an innocent pawn of greater powers remains an open question. Margaret and her successor Rudolf IV of Habsburg are commemorated in stone at the fountain on Bozner Platz, formerly known as Margarethenplatz.

Innsbrucks Innenstadt wird bis heute von Gebäuden und Denkmälern geprägt, die an die Familie Habsburg erinnern. Unzählige Touristen bewundern die stummen Hinterlassenschaften der Dynastie, die als mindestens ebenso ur-österreichisch gilt wie Schnitzel, Mozartkugeln und Mehlspeisen. Diese Darstellung ist allerdings nicht korrekt, auch wenn die Habsburger die Landesgeschichte über Jahrhunderte mitprägten. Sie waren ein europäisches Herrscherhaus, zu dessen Einflussbereich verschiedenste Territorien gehörten. Am Zenit ihrer Macht waren ihre Mitglieder die Herrscher über ein „Reich, in dem die Sonne nie untergeht“. Durch Kriege und geschickte Heirats- und Machtpolitik saßen sie in verschiedenen Epochen an den Schalthebeln der Macht zwischen Südamerika und der Ukraine. Ob der internationalen Ausrichtung des Hauses Habsburg verwundert es nicht, dass so mancher CEO der Grafschaft Tirol aus dieser Dynastie zumindest am Anfang etwas fremdelte mit der alpinen Provinz und ihren Einwohnern. Einige der Tiroler Landesfürsten hatten weder eine besondere Beziehung zu Tirol noch brachten sie diesem deutschen Land besondere Zuneigung entgegen. Ferdinand I. (1503 – 1564) wurde am spanischen Hof erzogen. Maximilians Enkel Karl V. war in Burgund aufgewachsen. Als er mit 17 Jahren zum ersten Mal spanischen Boden betrat, um das Erbe seiner Mutter Johanna über die Reiche Kastilien und Aragorn anzutreten, sprach er kein Wort spanisch. Als er 1519 zum Deutschen Kaiser gewählt wurde, sprach er kein Wort Deutsch. Es waren auch nicht alle Habsburger glücklich in Innsbruck sein zu „dürfen“. Angeheiratete Prinzen und Prinzessinnen wie Maximilians zweite Frau Bianca Maria Sforza oder Ferdinand II. zweite Frau Anna Caterina Gonzaga strandeten ungefragt nach der Hochzeit in der rauen, deutschsprachigen Bergwelt. Stellt man sich zudem vor, was ein Umzug samt Heirat von Italien nach Tirol zu einem fremden Mann für einen Teenager bedeutet, kann man erahnen, wie schwer das Leben der Prinzessinnen war. Kinder der Aristokratie wurden bis ins 20. Jahrhundert vor allem dazu erzogen, politisch verheiratet zu werden. Widerspruch dagegen gab es keinen. Man mag sich das höfische Leben als prunkvoll vorstellen, Privatsphäre war in all dem Luxus nicht vorgesehen.

Innsbruck repeatedly became a place of destiny for this ruling dynasty. Thanks to its strategically favorable location between Italian cities and German centers such as Augsburg and Regensburg, Innsbruck gained a special status within the empire at the latest after being elevated to a residence city under Emperor Maximilian. Innsbruck experienced its Habsburg heyday when it served as the main residence of the Tyrolean sovereigns. Ferdinand II, Maximilian III, and Leopold V, together with their wives, shaped the city during their reigns. When Sigismund Franz of Habsburg (1630–1665) died childless as the last provincial ruler, Innsbruck also lost its status as a residence city, and Tyrol was governed by a governor. Tyrolean mining had lost much of its importance and no longer required special attention. Shortly thereafter, the Habsburgs lost their possessions in Western Europe, including Spain and Burgundy, which pushed Innsbruck from the center to the periphery of the empire.

Despite this decline in favor and the increasing centralization of government affairs, Tyrol, as a conservative region, generally remained loyal to the dynasty. Even after the period as a residence city, the births of new members of the ruling family were dutifully celebrated with parades and processions; deaths were mourned with memorial masses; and archdukes, kings, and emperors were immortalized in public spaces with statues and paintings. In the nineteenth century, the Jesuit Hartmann Grisar wrote the following about the celebrations marking the birth of Archduke Leopold in 1716:

„But what an imposing sight it was when, as night fell, the Abbot of Wilten held the final religious function in front of St Anne's Column, which had been consecrated by the blood of the country, surrounded by rows of students and the packed crowd; when, by the light of thousands of burning lights and torches, the whole town, together with the studying youth, the hope of the country, implored heaven for a blessing for the Emperor's newborn first son.“

The Habsburgs valued the Nibelung-like loyalty of their alpine subjects. The region’s difficult accessibility made it a perfect refuge in turbulent and crisis-ridden times. Charles V (1500–1558) fled to Innsbruck for a time during a conflict with the Protestant Schmalkaldic League. Ferdinand I (1793–1875) had his family stay in Innsbruck to keep them far from the Ottoman threat in eastern Austria. Shortly before his coronation, Franz Joseph I enjoyed the seclusion of Innsbruck during the turbulent summer of the 1848 revolution together with his brother Maximilian, who was later executed by nationalist insurgents as Emperor of Mexico. A plaque at the Alpine inn Heiligwasser above Igls commemorates the fact that the monarch spent the night there during his ascent of the Patscherkofel. In the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy of the nineteenth century, Innsbruck was the western outpost of a vast empire that extended as far as present-day Ukraine. Franz Joseph I (1830–1916) ruled a multiethnic empire between 1848 and 1916. His neo-absolutist understanding of rule, however, was outdated. Although Austria had had a parliament and a constitution since 1867, the emperor regarded this government as “his.” Ministers were accountable to the emperor, who stood above the government.

In the second half of the nineteenth century, the ailing empire began to crumble increasingly. On October 28, 1918, the Republic of Czechoslovakia was proclaimed; on October 29, Croats, Slovenes, and Serbs withdrew from the monarchy. The last emperor, Charles, abdicated on November 11. On November 12, “German-Austria declared itself a democratic republic in which all power emanates from the people.” The Habsburg chapter had come to an end. Even though only very few Austrians today can imagine a monarchy as a form of government, the view of the ruling family remains ambivalent. Despite all the national, economic, and democratic problems that existed in the multiethnic states that— in various forms and configurations—were subject to the Habsburgs, the successor nation-states in some cases proved far less successful at reconciling minority interests and cultural differences within their territories. Since the EU’s eastward enlargement, the Habsburg Monarchy has not infrequently been portrayed by well-meaning historians as a precursor to the European Union. The list of Habsburg legacies in Innsbruck is long. Together with the Catholic Church, the Habsburgs shaped public space through architecture, art, and culture. The Golden Roof, the Imperial Palace, the Triumphal Arch, Ambras Castle, the Leopold Fountain, and many other structures still bear witness today to the presence of what was arguably the most significant ruling dynasty in European history in Innsbruck.

Many Tyroleans still like to see themselves as a nation of their own. With “Tirol isch lei oans,” “Zu Mantua in Banden,” and “Dem Land Tirol die Treue,” the federal state has no fewer than three more or less official anthems. This pronounced local patriotism, as in other Austrian provinces, has historical roots. Tyrolean freedom and independence are frequently invoked almost as local sacred relics to substantiate this self-image. People also like to speak of the first democracy on mainland Europe—an assertion that is clearly an exaggeration when one considers the feudal, hierarchy-driven history of the region well into the twentieth century. Nevertheless, a certain distinctiveness in Tyrol’s historical development cannot be denied, even if this involved less the participation of broad sections of the population than the curtailment of the sovereign’s power by local elites. Tyrolean princes were already minting coins bearing their likenesses at an early stage, yet their relationship with the clergy, the estates, and the population was subject to constant fluctuation. The first act of what might be called proto-democratic Tyrolean historiography was what the Innsbruck historian Otto Stolz (1881–1957) enthusiastically celebrated in the 1950s—drawing on English history—as a Magna Charta Libertatum. Following the marriage of the Bavarian Ludwig of Wittelsbach to the Tyrolean sovereign Margaret of Tyrol-Gorizia, the Bavarian Wittelsbach dynasty briefly ruled Tyrol. In order to win over the Tyrolean population, Ludwig decided in the fourteenth century to offer the estates a concession. In the Great Charter of Freedom of 1342, he promised the Tyroleans that no laws would be enacted and no taxes raised without prior consultation with the estates. However, this was by no means a democratic constitution in the modern, twenty-first-century sense, as the estates consisted primarily of the landed nobility, who naturally represented their own interests. Although one version of the document mentioned the inclusion of peasants as an estate in the regional assembly, this version was never officially implemented.

The second act followed with Habsburg involvement. As cities and the bourgeoisie gained greater political weight in the fifteenth century due to their economic importance, a counterbalance to the nobility emerged within the estates. At the Landtag of 1423 under Frederick IV, eighteen members of the nobility met for the first time with eighteen representatives of towns and the peasantry. Over time, a fixed composition developed in the regional assemblies of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Represented were the bishops of Brixen and Trient, the abbots of Tyrolean monasteries, the nobility, delegates from the towns, and representatives of the peasantry. The Landeshauptmann presided over the assembly. Naturally, the resolutions and wishes of the Landtag were not binding on the prince; nevertheless, it was surely reassuring for a ruler to know that representatives of the population stood behind him or supported difficult decisions. 

Another important document for the region was the Tyrolean Landlibell. In 1511, Maximilian stipulated, among other things, that Tyrolean soldiers were to be deployed only for the defense of their own land. The reason for Maximilian’s apparent generosity lay less in affection for the Tyroleans than in the necessity of keeping the Tyrolean mines operational instead of sacrificing valuable workers and the peasantry that supported them on Europe’s battlefields. What is often overlooked is that the Landlibell also imposed significant restrictions on the population and increased financial burdens. In addition to regulating troop contingents, it defined special taxes. The nobility and clergy were required to use the income from their estates as the tax base, which often amounted to a rough estimate. Towns, by contrast, were taxed according to the number of hearths in their houses—a figure that could be recorded quite accurately. The highly sought-after mining workers were exempt from these taxes and were only conscripted for military service in cases of extreme emergency. This special regulation of territorial defense laid down in the Landlibell was one of the causes of the uprising of 1809, when young Tyroleans were conscripted during mobilization under universal military service. To this day, the Napoleonic Wars—during which the Catholic crown land was threatened by the “godless French” and the revolutionary social order—continue to shape Tyrolean self-perception. During this defensive struggle, a bond formed between Catholicism and Tyrol. Before a decisive battle against Napoleon’s armies in June 1796, the Tyrolean riflemen entrusted their fate to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and entered into a personal covenant with God to protect the Holy Land of Tyrol. Another identity-forming legend from 1796 centers on a young woman from the village of Spinges. Katharina Lanz, who entered regional history as the “Virgin of Spinges,” is said to have motivated the nearly defeated Tyrolean troops through her commanding presence in battle, ultimately enabling them to overcome the French superiority. Depending on the account, she is said to have wielded a pitchfork, a flail, or a scythe—much like the French maiden Joan of Arc—striking fear into Napoleon’s troops. Legends and traditions surrounding the riflemen and the notion of being an independent, God-chosen nation accidentally attached to the Republic of Austria stem from these narratives. The government in Vienna under Maria Theresa viewed this identity with skepticism. Distinct identities of individual crown lands did not align with enlightened concepts of a modern state. In the nineteenth century, too, efforts were made to strengthen identification with the monarchy and foster a new national consciousness. Subjects were meant to feel allegiance not to Tyrol, but to the House of Habsburg. The press, visits by the ruling family, monuments such as the Rudolf Fountain, and the opening of Bergisel with Hofer portrayed as a loyal Tyrolean were intended to help transform the population into faithful imperial subjects. Over the centuries, Innsbruck’s inhabitants saw themselves as Tyroleans, Germans, Catholics, and subjects of the emperor—but hardly anyone identified as Austrian before 1945. Only after the Second World War did a sense of belonging to Austria slowly begin to develop in Tyrol as well.

The end of the monarchy further strengthened Tyrolean national sentiment. When the Habsburg Empire collapsed after the First World War, the crown land of Tyrol also fell apart. What had been known as South Tyrol until 1918—the Italian-speaking region between Riva on Lake Garda and Salurn in the Adige Valley—became Trentino with its capital in Trento. Liberals and conservatives, otherwise divided on almost every issue, were united in their hostility toward the unwanted division of the province and the founding of the Republic of German-Austria. Even today, many Tyroleans take particular pride in their local identity and readily distinguish themselves from residents of other federal states. For many Tyroleans, the Brenner Pass still represents an unjust border more than a century later, even though political cross-border cooperation takes place at the EU level within the framework of a “Europe of the Regions.” The legend of the Holy Land, the independent Tyrolean nation, and the first mainland democracy persists to this day. The saying “bisch a Tiroler bisch a Mensch, bisch koana, bisch a Oasch” (“If you’re a Tyrolean, you’re a human being; if you’re not, you’re an arse”) succinctly captures Tyrolean nationalism. The fact that the historical crown land of Tyrol was a multiethnic construct—including Italians, Ladins, Cimbrians, and Rhaeto-Romans—is often deliberately ignored in right-wing circles. Laws from the federal capital Vienna or even from Brussels are viewed with unreflective skepticism. Nationalists on both sides of the Brenner still draw on figures such as the Virgin of Spinges, the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and Andreas Hofer to present their causes in a way that resonates with the public.