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.

The smart and liberal Crown Prince Rudolf (1858 - 1889) was regarded as the Favourite of the nations of the Habsburg Empire. In many ways, his life can be read as exemplary for the period between 1848 and the outbreak of the First World War, when technical ideas were developing at breakneck speed, newspapers were spreading political ideas from different camps with unprecedented circulation and at the same time Catholicism, superstition and spiritualism were commonplace. Interest in science, art, culture and customs was also omnipresent in Innsbruck. The vast majority of Innsbruckers did not have the material means or the status of Habsburgs, but the fashions and trends under which they lived were the same. The upper middle classes emulated the same ideals as the crown prince, just as Rudolf always saw himself as part of the upper middle classes. He was considered well-read and educated and was interested in a wide range of subjects in keeping with the spirit of the times. In addition to Greek and Latin, he also spoke French, Hungarian, Czech and Croatian. As a private citizen, he devoted himself to science and travelling through the countries of the monarchy. Rudolf arranged for the publication of of the Kronprinzenwerk, a natural science encyclopaedia. Volume 13 was published in 1893, which dealt with the crown land of Tyrol. He wrote liberal articles in the "Neue Wiener Tagblatt" under a pseudonym. Among other things, he wanted to promote land and land reforms by taxing large landowners more heavily and granting the individual nationalities of the Habsburg Empire more rights. He was particularly unpopular in conservative, rural Tyrol and among the military. Among the liberal-minded people of Innsbruck, on the other hand, he was seen as a hope for a renewal of the monarchy in the sense of a modern, federal state. The Rudolf's Fountain in Innsbruck on Boznerplatz does not commemorate the crown prince, but he was present at its inauguration. As an advocate of rationalism and enlightenment, Rudolf despised the widespread belief in supernatural beings and spirits, while around him new churches sprang up like mushrooms and the upper class indulged in seances and spiritualistic superstitions. The popular piety of the late monarchy led to large-scale projects such as the parish churches of St Nicholas and Hötting. 

Despite, or perhaps because of his aristocratic background, Rudolf's private life was turbulent, but not atypical of the time, in which parents and teachers were less approachable educators and more distant figures of respect. Children were brought up strictly. Neither teachers nor parents shied away from corporal punishment, even if there were limits, laws and rules for the use of domestic violence. Militarism and a focus on future gainful employment prevented the kind of childhood and youth we know today. Young men from the upper classes lived out their soldierly daydreams as armed and uniformed members of student fraternities. It is no wonder that the enthusiasm for war, God, Emperor and Fatherland was great in the birth cohorts of the last decades of the 19th century. Rudolf's early years, when he had to undergo a military education under General Gondrecourt at the request of Emperor Franz Josef, were also less than luxurious. It was only after his mother Elisabeth intervened that harassment such as water cures, drill in the rain and snow and being woken up with pistol shots were removed from the six-year-old crown prince's daily programme. 

Like many of his contemporaries, Rudolf, as a member of the upper class, found himself in an unhappy, arranged marriage. The 19th century was not the age of love marriages, even if the Romantic and Biedermeier periods are often praised as such. Marriages between peasants were often arranged on financial grounds. Aristocrats and members of the upper middle classes married for reasons of social status and with the aim of preserving the dynasty. In the upper classes, wives were often their husband's jewellery and head of the household. Only when the often older husband had died could widows enjoy a life apart from this role. Servants, maids, farmhands and maidservants were forbidden to marry for a long time. The danger that they would be unable to support their children and thus become a burden on the community was too great for the communities. This double standard of the aristocracy and upper middle classes towards the Pofl meant that illegal abortions, full orphanages and children growing up with relatives in the country instead of their parents were part of everyday life. Throughout his life, Rudolf was also not averse to the fairer sex outside of marriage. In the last months of his life, he had an affair with Mary Vetsera, a girl from rich Hungarian nobility who was considered particularly beautiful and was only 17 years old. Many of his subjects were like Rudolf. It is true that hardly anyone could boast of claiming a Hungarian aristocrat as a playmate. Even in Innsbruck's high society, it was common to listen to the priest's sermon from the pulpit on Sundays and have an extramarital affair or visit a brothel at the same time. 

Rudolf's life ended tragically. On 30 January 1889, the severely depressed Rudolf, marked by alcohol, morphine and gonorrhoea, met up with Vetsera after spending the previous night with his long-term lover, the prostitute Maria „Mizzi“ Kaspar, had spent the night. Under circumstances that have never been fully clarified, he first killed the young woman and then himself with a shot to the head. The suicide was never recognised by the Habsburg family. Zita (1892 - 1989), the widow of the last Emperor Karl, still spoke of an assassination attempt in the 1980s. The discussion surrounding the burial of the heir to the throne and his mistress showed the double standards of society. Suicide was considered a grave sin and actually prevented a Christian burial. Vetsera was buried inconspicuously at the cemetery in Heiligenkreuz near Mayerling in a small grave next to the cemetery wall, while Rudolf was given a state funeral after imperial intervention with the Pope and was laid to rest in the Capuchin crypt in Vienna.

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.

The First World War not only brought ruling dynasties and empires to an end, the 1920s also saw many changes in art, music, literature and architecture. While jazz, atonal music and expressionism failed to establish themselves in little Innsbruck, a handful of architects changed the cityscape in an astonishing way. Inspired by new forms of design such as the Bauhaus style, skyscrapers from the USA and the Soviet Modernism from the revolutionary USSR, sensational projects emerged in Innsbruck. The best-known representatives of the avant-garde who brought about this new way of designing public space in Tyrol were Lois Welzenbacher, Siegfried Mazagg, Theodor Prachensky and Clemens Holzmeister. Each of these architects had their own idiosyncrasies, making the Tiroler Moderne nur schwer eindeutig zu definieren ist. Allen gemeinsam war die Abwendung von der klassizistischen Architektur der Vorkriegszeit unter gleichzeitiger Beibehaltung typischer alpiner Materialien und Elemente unter dem Motto Form follows function. Lois Welzenbacher schrieb 1920 in einem Artikel der Zeitschrift Tyrolean highlands about the architecture of this period:

"As far as we can judge today, it is clear that the 19th century lacked the strength to create its own distinct style. It is the age of stillness... Thus details were reproduced with historical accuracy, mostly without any particular meaning or purpose, and without a harmonious overall picture that would have arisen from factual or artistic necessity."

The best-known and most impressive representative of the so-called Tiroler Moderne was Franz Baumann (1892 - 1974). Unlike Holzmeister or Welzenbacher, he had no academic training. Baumann was born in Innsbruck in 1892, the son of a postal clerk. The theologian, publicist and war propagandist Anton Müllner, alias Bruder Willram became aware of Franz Baumann's talent as a draughtsman and enabled the young man to attend the Staatsgewerbeschule, today's HTL, at the age of 14. It was here that he met his future brother-in-law Theodor Prachensky. Together with Baumann's sister Maria, the two young men went on excursions in the area around Innsbruck to paint pictures of the mountains and nature. During his school years, he gained his first professional experience as a bricklayer at the construction company Huter & Söhne. In 1910 Baumann followed his friend Prachensky to Merano to work for the company Musch & Lun zu arbeiten. Meran war damals Tirols wichtigster Tourismusort mit internationalen Kurgästen. Unter dem Architekten Adalbert Erlebach machte er erste Erfahrungen bei der Planung von Großprojekten wie Hotels und Seilbahnen. Wie den Großteil seiner Generation riss der Erste Weltkrieg auch Baumann aus Berufsleben und Alltag. An der Italienfront erlitt er im Kampfeinsatz einen Bauchschuss, von dem er sich in einem Lazarett in Prag erholte. In dieser ansonsten tatenlosen Zeit malte er Stadtansichten von Bauwerken in und rund um Prag. Diese Bilder, die ihm später bei der Visualisierung seiner Pläne helfen sollten, wurden in seiner einzigen Ausstellung 1919 präsentiert.

Baumann's breakthrough came in the second half of the 1920s. He was able to win the tenders for the remodelling of the Weinhaus Happ in the old town and the Nordkettenbahn railway. In addition to his creativity and ability to think holistically, he was also able to harmonise his architectural approach with the legal situation and the modern requirements of tendering in the 1920s. Construction was a state matter, the Tyrolean Heritage Protection Association together with the district administration, was the final authority responsible for the assessment and authorisation of construction projects. During his time in Merano, Baumann was already involved with the Homeland Security Association came into contact with it. Kunibert Zimmeter had founded this association together with Gotthard Graf Trapp in the final years of the monarchy. In "Our Tyrol. A heritage book" he wrote:

"Let us look at the flattening of our private lives, our amusements, at the centre of which, significantly, is the cinema, at the literary ephemera of our newspaper reading, at the hopeless and costly excesses of fashion in the field of women's clothing, let us take a look at our homes with the miserable factory furniture and all the dreadful products of our so-called gallantry goods industry, Things that thousands of people work to produce, creating worthless bric-a-brac in the process, or let us look at our apartment blocks and villas with their cement façades simulating palaces, countless superfluous towers and gables, our hotels with their pompous façades, what a waste of the people's wealth, what an abundance of tastelessness we must find there."

The economic boom of the late 1920s saw the emergence of a new clientele and clientele that placed new demands on buildings and therefore on the construction industry. In many Tyrolean villages, hotels had replaced churches as the largest building in the townscape. The aristocratic distance from the mountains had given way to a bourgeois enthusiasm for sport. This called for new solutions at new heights. No more grand hotels were built at 1500 m for spa holidays, but a complete infrastructure for skiers in high alpine terrain such as the Nordkette. The Tyrolean Heritage Protection Association ensured that nature and townscape were protected from overly fashionable trends, excessive tourism and ugly industrial buildings. Building projects had to blend harmoniously, attractively and appropriately into the environment. Despite the social and artistic innovations of the time, architects had to keep the typical regional character in mind. This was precisely the strength of Baumann's approach to holistic building in the Tyrolean sense. All technical functions and details, the embedding of the buildings in the landscape, taking into account the topography and sunlight, played a role for him, who was not officially allowed to use the title of architect. He thus followed the "Rules for those who build in the mountains" by the architect Adolf Loos from 1913:

Don't build picturesquely. Leave such effects to the walls, the mountains and the sun. The man who dresses picturesquely is not picturesque, but a buffoon. The farmer does not dress picturesquely. But he is...

Pay attention to the forms in which the farmer builds. For they are ancestral wisdom, congealed substance. But seek out the reason for the mould. If advances in technology have made it possible to improve the mould, then this improvement should always be used. The flail will be replaced by the threshing machine."

Baumann designed even the smallest details, from the exterior lighting to the furniture, and integrated them into his overall concept of the Tiroler Moderne in.

From 1927, Baumann worked independently in his studio in Schöpfstraße in Wilten. He repeatedly came into contact with his brother-in-law and employee of the building authority, Theodor Prachensky. From 1929, the two of them worked together to design the building for the new Hötting secondary school on Fürstenweg. Although boys and girls still had to be planned separately in the traditional way, the building was otherwise completely in keeping with the style of the Neuen Sachlichkeit and the principle Light, air and sun.

In his heyday, he employed 14 people in his office. Thanks to his modern approach, which combined function, aesthetics and economical construction, he survived the economic crisis well. Only the 1000-mark barrier, die Hitler 1934 über Österreich verhängte, um die Republik finanziell in Bredouille zu bringen, brachte sein Architekturbüro wie die gesamte Wirtschaft in Probleme. Nicht nur die Arbeitslosenquote im Tourismus verdreifachte sich innerhalb kürzester Zeit, auch die Baubranche geriet in Schwierigkeiten. 1935 wurde Baumann zum Leiter der Zentralvereinigung für Architekten, nachdem er mit einer Ausnahmegenehmigung ausgestattet diesen Berufstitel endlich tragen durfte. Im gleichen Jahr plante er die Hörtnaglsiedlung in the west of the city.

After the Anschluss in 1938, he quickly joined the NSDAP. On the one hand, like his colleague Lois Welzenbacher, he was probably not averse to the ideas of National Socialism, but on the other he was able to further his career as chairman of the Reich Chamber of Fine Arts in Tyrol. In this position, he courageously opposed the destructive furore with which those in power wanted to change Innsbruck's cityscape, which did not correspond to his idea of urban planning. The mayor of Innsbruck, Egon Denz, wanted to remove the Triumphal Gate and St Anne's Column in order to make more room for traffic in Maria-Theresienstraße. The city centre was still a transit area from the Brenner Pass in the south to reach the main road to the east and west on today's Innrain. At the request of Gauleiter Franz Hofer, a statue of Adolf Hitler was to be erected in place of St Anne's Column. Hofer also wanted to have the church towers of the collegiate church blown up. Baumann's opinion on these plans was negative. When the matter made it to Albert Speer's desk, he agreed with him. From this point onwards, Baumann was no longer awarded any public projects by Gauleiter Hofer.

After being questioned as part of the denazification process, Baumann began working at the city building authority, probably on the recommendation of his brother-in-law Prachensky. Baumann was fully exonerated, among other things by a statement from the Abbot of Wilten, whose church towers he had saved, but his reputation as an architect could no longer be repaired. Moreover, his studio in Schöpfstraße had been destroyed by a bomb in 1944. In his post-war career, he was responsible for the renovation of buildings damaged by the war. Under his leadership, Boznerplatz with the Rudolfsbrunnen fountain was rebuilt as well as Burggraben and the new Stadtsäle (Note: today House of Music).

Franz Baumann died in 1974 and his paintings, sketches and drawings are highly sought-after and highly traded. Anyone who takes a close look at recent major projects such as the city library, the PEMA towers and many of Innsbruck's housing estates will recognise the approaches of the Tiroler Moderne rediscover even today.