Already in the early modern period, a bridge crossed the Sill, connecting Pradl and Innsbruck. This was the starting point of the “Fürstenweg,” fortified by Ferdinand II, which led all the way to Ambras Castle. The northern part of this early north–south route is today’s Pradlerstraße. A look at the development of this small area tells the story of Innsbruck’s evolution between the 16th and 20th centuries. Throughout the Middle Ages and the early modern period, Pradl was one of many small, rurally shaped villages in the outskirts of the city. In the 19th century, like the other peripheral districts, Pradl became an industrial boomtown. As the city expanded, the old farmhouses were gradually encircled by modern residential buildings and housing estates. Even before Pradl was incorporated into Innsbruck in 1904, major employers such as the Rhomberg silk-spinning factory and the gasworks had settled there. Bakeries, butchers, small shops and inns opened. Unlike Wilten, which had always shown a certain degree of industrialization along the Sill canal, Pradl remained exclusively agricultural until the 19th century. New houses and apartments for employees and workers were needed. Between the intersections Amthorstraße/Pradlerstraße and Gumppstraße/Pradlerstraße, as well as in Gabelsbergerstraße, several of these residential and rental houses still exist today. The sudden change led to tensions between long-established residents and the newcomers. Children from working-class families—often with both parents employed—were considered “Rattler” by the farming families, who were reluctant to let their own children play with them. Pradlerstraße itself, however, was a well-to-do residential area, as some of its beautiful buildings still impressively demonstrate. House No. 32 was the home and workshop of Rafael Thaler (1870–1947), a restorer and artist responsible for many façade paintings and frescoes in the Heimatstil in and around Innsbruck. He decorated his home with his own works. Thaler was a successful and extremely productive painter both in the late monarchy and in the interwar period. His often kitschy works—frequently found on churches and buildings in the Tyrolean Heimatstil—depicted religious motifs, landscapes, cherubs, animals, Tyrolean legendary figures, and allegories from antiquity in a neo-Baroque style. Those who walk through the city with open eyes will spot many of Thaler’s works. In addition to frescoes on house façades, he also accepted commissions for portraits, postcards, and New Year’s greeting cards. House No. 36 is adorned with a depiction of the wine dealer Benedikt Fritz. House No. 38 is a wonderful example of the Heimatstil characteristic of Innsbruck’s architecture at the time. The mural on this corner building, also by Rafael Thaler, shows two female figures representing trade and craftsmanship. The motto beneath them expresses the new, yet still conservative, bourgeois self-image of the owners:

“Work is the citizen’s adornment,

...blessing is the price of labour

pay tribute to the king´s honor,

pay tribute to our hand´s diligence

With the growing population came the need for workplaces, shops, and housing—but also for education and pastoral care. Between the farmhouses in the north and the residential buildings in the south of Pradlerstraße, a new neighborhood center emerged around the landmarks of the Pradl expansion: the Leitgeb School and the new parish church. Where today’s Leitgebhalle stands, a chapel had existed since the late 17th century, containing a copy of Lucas Cranach’s miraculous image Mariahilf. In the 19th century, this small house of worship could no longer meet the needs of the many new residents. Between 1905 and 1908, the new church was built—one of the last constructed in Innsbruck during the late monarchy. Particularly impressive is the lion portal made of red marble. The appearance and posture of the lions strongly resemble medieval churches south of the Alps in the Romanesque style, such as San Zeno Maggiore in Verona. After bomb damage during World War II, the double doors were rebuilt in their current form. The copy of Mariahilf inside the church was transferred from the earlier chapel.

The Leitgeb School across the street already points toward a more modern architectural style. It was named after the Innsbruck writer Josef Leitgeb (1897–1952), whose stories and poems offer insight into everyday life of his time. The building, constructed between 1907 and 1908 according to plans by Eduard Klingler, was designed entirely in the Tyrolean Heimatstil, reflecting the urban planner’s taste. After being hit during an air raid in World War II, it required extensive renovation. The building’s original elegance can still be sensed in its basic form. The somewhat rigid, sober cube appears almost classicistic upon closer inspection of its details.

Among the old farmhouses in the south, the elegant Gründerzeit buildings and the turn-of-the-century tenements, many less appealing residential buildings are mixed in—structures built during the post-war years. Due to their proximity to the railway station, many buildings along Pradlerstraße fell victim to air raids. The bronze plaques reading:

“This house was destroyed during the war years 1939/45 and rebuilt with funds from the Federal Ministry of Trade and Reconstruction under Federal Chancellor Ing. Julius Raab”

bear witness to these destructions and the subsequent reconstruction. Since the 1990s, Pradlerstraße has suffered the typical fate of many inner-city European neighborhoods. The large poplar trees on both sides of the street—present since the Bavarian occupation—were sacrificed to car traffic during the road-widening measures of the car-centered 1960s. Long-established businesses are no longer passed on; new shops often fail due to competition from the nearby shopping centers DEZ and Sillpark.

Until the 19th century, Pradl was a small rural settlement between the Sill River and what is now the Pradl parish church, consisting of about 20 farmhouses. The origins of the village can be traced back to an estate owned by the Counts of Andechs, around which a community developed. The oldest farmhouse can be documented as far back as the 13th century. In the 15th century, the farmers benefitted from the social and economic developments taking place in the ducal residence city of Innsbruck and in the silver-mining town of Schwaz. The farmers of Pradl focused early on livestock breeding. City dwellers and noble households, as well as craftsmen and skilled workers, consumed more expensive meat than the average Tyrolean of earlier centuries. The next boost for agricultural business came with industrialization in the 19th century. The small square with the Florianibrunnen – a fountain built in 1865 and expanded in 1913 with a Baroque statue of Saint Florian – remains a popular meeting place in Pradl to this day. The patrons of this village center were the Hörtnagl family. The Hörtnagls are the most successful example of the transformation from livestock farmers to entrepreneurs. The Hörtnagl farmstead at Egerdachstraße 20, featuring a statue of the Virgin of Grace and paintings of Saint Florian and the Archangel Michael, dates back to 1580. In 1862, Andrä Hörtnagl founded a meat trading business. Under his son Hans Hörtnagl (1864–1944), the company grew. The politically engaged and influential family was also heavily involved in important infrastructure projects such as the construction of the slaughterhouse in Saggen. Through skill and hard work they gained wealth, and their land ownership allowed them to exert political influence as well. In the 1930s, Hans Hörtnagl enabled the city to build the Hörtnagl Settlement on one of the family's properties in the western part of the city. To this day, the traditional company Hörtnagl is an established part of Tyrol’s gourmet landscape.

Around the Florianibrunnen, in Egerdachstraße and Pradlerstraße, several other beautiful estates can be found. At Egerdachstraße 10 stands the Stamserhof, owned by the Plattner family, an impressive farmhouse from the 16th century. Baroque depictions of Saints Florian and Wendelin flank the family’s coat of arms and the pious phrase: “They are close to us, in happiness and joy, need and sorrow.” The Lodronischer Hof directly opposite also dates back to the 16th century. From 1870 onward, it housed the Pradl Farmers’ Theatre, which, with plays such as The Last Rottenburger or The Outlaw’s Daughter, as well as productions depicting the Tyrolean Rebellion of 1809, attracted many city dwellers to rural Pradl. The two-story Baroque farmhouse (house number 20) right next to the Florianibrunnen features a mural of the Virgin Mary painted by Rafael Thaler (1870–1947) around 1920.

Most of the Pradl farmsteads are no longer used for agriculture. Between Pembaurstraße and the part of Gabelsbergerstraße known as Fackngassl, a few horses can still be seen. As in Amras, farmers in Pradl made good money in past decades by selling land for residential construction. However, the richly decorated Baroque farmsteads remain impressive relics of Pradl’s not-so-distant past as a village.

The currency reform and the accompanying economic recovery enabled the first infrastructure projects of the First Republic in the second half of the 1920s. Sports and recreational facilities such as the municipal indoor swimming pool, the Tivoli, or the Rapoldipark were perhaps the most visible constructions of this time. However, in the overcrowded districts—such as the working-class neighborhood of Pradl—the most pressing issue was not leisure but the acute housing shortage. In 1926, the Pembaurblock was built in close proximity to the recently expanded Schlachthofblock, marking another pioneering project. The municipal officials Jakob Albert and Theodor Prachensky played a significant role in its planning and execution. Between the turn of the century and the 1920s, architecture had undergone a transformation in step with politics and society—at least from Prachensky’s point of view. With his architecture, he sought to symbolically shake off the hierarchical social structure of the monarchy. The Pembaurblock followed the model of social housing in Vienna—the federal capital governed by the Social Democrats and not widely appreciated in the more conservative provinces. Unlike the Dollfußsiedlung in western Innsbruck, built a few years later, where individual houses were meant to imitate traditional rural life—or at least an idealized version of it—the Pembaurblock was designed in the functional style of New Objectivity. The buildings between Pembaurstraße, Amthorstraße, and Pestalozzistraße housed more than 100 apartments, making the Pembaurblock one of the largest housing complexes of its time in Innsbruck. Not only the quantity, but also the quality of the apartments was revolutionary. In line with the principles of municipal housing in “Red Vienna,” they were built according to Social Democratic ideas focused on the concept of light, air, and sun. Running water, bathrooms, and toilets were by no means a given in the 1920s. Each unit had a living kitchen, an oriel room, and usually an additional room. While the small apartments in the Schlachthofblock in Saggen measured 55 m², those in the Pembaurblock measured 65 m². Typical of 1920s social housing, the four‑story block was designed like a fortress surrounding a courtyard, accessible through multiple entrances. A public footpath ran between the two entrances, crossing the courtyard. The paddling pool and sandbox for children were set at a lower level, creating a kind of protective zone separated from the adult world. The corners of the housing complex appear like towers, which—following socialist urban planning principles—housed shops. For all his affinity for international influences, Prachensky also incorporated local color into his plans. Höttinger Breccia, the material used for the foundations of many Old Town buildings and the Triumphal Arch, was intended to give the housing block a distinctly Innsbruck character. The oriels typical of Innsbruck’s Gothic architecture also structure the façade of the Pembaurblock. He combined these with modern elements. Above the entrances to the courtyard, statues still stand today, symbolizing the then‑revolutionary achievement of maternal counseling. Maternal counseling was a social initiative introduced during the First Republic (1918–1938) by the Social Democrats. The Viennese physician and politician Julius Tandler sought to ensure that the changing social circumstances after the war were reflected in how children, adolescents, women, and families were viewed—in both politics and everyday life. His credo was: “Whoever builds palaces for children tears down prison walls.” Maternal counseling centers were intended to initiate a new style of child‑rearing and to improve infant and child health. From cradle to grave, it was now to be the secular state—not the church—that assumed responsibility for its citizens.

With the Schlachthofblock and the Pembaurblock, two new housing complexes were built in the eastern part of the city between 1922 and 1926. Urban planner Theodor Prachensky, who had been heavily involved in the planning of both, subsequently began designing a kindergarten and a secondary school to close the infrastructure gap in the new residential district. As a committed Social Democrat, he believed that modern citizens should enjoy not only adequate housing but also solid education. Whereas in Mariahilf, only a few years earlier and at the end of the monarchy, the church had been significantly involved in establishing schools, these tasks were now primarily undertaken by the state and the municipality in the First Republic. On 20 January 1926, the Innsbrucker Nachrichten reported on the necessity of a kindergarten in Pradl:

„Im Häuserviereck am Schlachthof wären 150 Kinder, die einen eigenen Kindergarten brauchten, auch in Pradl sollte längst ein Kindergarten eingerichtet werden. Auch muss eine Oberbehörde für die Kindergärten bestimmt werden, der sie unterstehen, die Unterrichtsverhältnisse müssen weniger den Volksschulen als Tagesheimen angepasst werden. Der Wohlfahrtsausschuss möge nach einer ausführlichen Denkschrift, die der Leiter des Jugendamtes, Dr. Schüler, dem Bürgermeister überreicht hat, sich der Angelegenheit annehmen.“

Construction of the kindergarten began in 1928 and was completed the same year. The ideas surrounding the care of infants and young children were revolutionary. The Pembaurblock across the street housed the maternal health service; a kindergarten was the next step in the republican vision of childhood education. In his typical cubic style, Theodor Prachensky designed a two‑storey building for the city’s youngest citizens—a symbolic new beginning not only in architecture but also in childcare. Large windows were intended to provide light and air; the stone pillars between them feature childlike animal motifs.

Less fortunate was the planned school in its first decades. Prachensky produced the plans for the new building in 1928, once again relying on modern architecture far removed from the military character of earlier educational buildings. Like the kindergarten, the secondary school was intended to meet contemporary ideas of child welfare. A large courtyard surrounded the four‑storey wings on Pembaurstraße and Gabelsbergerstraße, separating boys’ and girls’ classrooms according to the educational standards of the time. Gymnasiums connected the two wings. At the entrances, decorative columns with lanterns—typical of the 1920s—were installed. The large flywheel of a steam engine on the eastern façade facing Pembaurstraße was added in 1997.

The shell of the building was completed in 1931 before the economic crisis brought all state investment to an abrupt halt. The neighbourhood's pupils were assigned to schools in other parts of the city. When the situation became unbearable in 1936, the local council asked the population for donations and decided to take out a loan to complete the school. In November of the following year, the first boys moved into the seven classrooms of the boys' wing.

The changing names and uses of the building in the years that followed provide insight not only into school history but also into the broader political events of the time. The plan to name the school after Austrian Chancellor Kurt Schuschnigg was nullified by the Nazi takeover. Instead of the Tyrolean Schuschnigg, the patron became Hans Schemm, former Gauleiter of the Bavarian Eastern March and Minister of Education, who had died in a plane crash in 1935. Schemm had joined the NSDAP as early as 1923. Unlike many of his party comrades, he did not reject religion but championed the so‑called “Positive Christianity.” In the year Hitler seized power, he published a book titled “Our religion is Christ, our politics is Germany!” This approach made the “good Nazi” appealing in Tyrol, where many people wanted to be both National Socialists and Catholics. In the final year of World War II, the building served as a barracks. To protect them from Allied air raids, students were relocated to Berwang. After the war, American and French occupation troops moved in, as they did in many administrative and school buildings. In November 1945, classes resumed. Alongside the secondary school pupils, elementary school children from Pradl—whose school had been destroyed in the air raids—were temporarily housed in the building. With the end of the war, a new name was also required. In 1953, the school was named after Karl Renner, the first chancellor of the Second Republic. Four years later, when the Allies withdrew and a new law required the school to be divided into two institutions due to its size, the Social Democratic chancellor’s name was removed as a precaution. The Renner School became, pragmatically, Hauptschule Pradl I and Hauptschule Pradl II. When it became fashionable in the 1980s to send children to grammar school whenever possible, student numbers declined and the two separate schools were reunited. In 1990, the school was officially named after Innsbruck’s most renowned composer of the monarchy, director of various music associations, and co‑founder of the Tyrolean State Conservatory, Josef Pembaur (1848–1923).

Despite all the name changes, repurposings, and the poor reputation the school had acquired over time, teaching still takes place in the now‑listed historic building. Around 200 students attend the technically and craft‑oriented Neue Mittelschule, which is still known to locals by the name displayed on its façade. The distinctive 1950s‑style Rennerschule lettering can still be admired today.

Between Leipzigerplatz, the Sill River, and the Florianibrunnen stretches one of Innsbruck’s green oases. Rapoldipark is popular with both young and old thanks to its central location, diverse leisure opportunities, and well‑maintained gardens. The transformation from a few walking paths to today’s sports and recreation paradise took nearly 100 years. The park began to take shape between the gasworks, which opened in 1861, and Leipzigerplatz. Beside the stately townhouses, a small undeveloped area remained. During the hunger-stricken final years of World War I, allotment gardens were created here to supply the population with food. After the war, the areas south of the gasworks were converted into a park. Rapoldipark was a typical project of the First Republic. The tree‑lined paths and benches in front of the imposing industrial building were intended to offer the working-class residents of Pradl some peace and relaxation. The basic structure of the park’s older, southern section still follows these original plans. The official opening took place in 1927, two years before the neighboring municipal indoor swimming pool was completed. The park was named after the recently deceased social democratic politician Martin Rapoldi, who had been immensely popular in the working‑class district of Pradl. During World War II and the first years after, the park was again used as farmland. In 1958, the park’s notable but not undisputed symbol was installed: the Salige-Fräulein Fountain. Artist Hans Plangger (1899–1971) had designed it in 1944 for the Tyrol-Vorarlberg Gau Art Exhibition. However, it was only realized and installed after the city council commissioned it in 1953. Its National Socialist aesthetics, forms, and symbolism still found broad approval and little resistance. Plangger, a native of South Tyrol, had studied—like many artists of his generation—under Josef Müllner at the Academy of Fine Arts. He entered the National Socialist art scene in 1937 at the Great German Art Exhibition in Munich and became one of the regime’s promoted artists due to his clear stylistic language and aesthetic. The fountain was originally intended for the Rennweg, where it would have served as a backdrop for Nazi marches. The monumental artwork, carved from a single block of marble, depicts three bare‑breasted women and a faun sitting behind them. The “Saligen Frauen” are mythological figures from the Alpine region’s pre-Christian past. In many European cultures they were revered in various forms as archetypes of purity and wisdom. Stories and legends describe them as protectors against crop failure, misfortune, and infertility. Plangger depicted them in the fountain as idealized, Aryan-virtuous women—strong and simultaneously nurturing.

In 1974, the gasworks was relocated further east to the Sillzwickl. The spirit of the 1970s—out of which the first environmental movements would later emerge—began to influence both the population and urban planning. Unlike the Zelger grounds near the Triumphal Arch, where a controversial high‑rise was built 45 years earlier instead of a park, the city now embraced green space. A public survey showed that the new northern part of Rapoldipark should not be a formal Victorian garden but rather designed in a natural style. Within three years, the former site of the coal‑burning gasworks was transformed into a playground, sunbathing lawn, sports field, table tennis area, bocce lanes, and a duck pond. Recent renovations have changed the originally wild 1970s design only in details. This newer section also received a fountain in the 1980s. Pradl‑born artist Helmut Schober, together with Milan architect Flavio Conti, created a bronze fountain sculpture set on a square paved with natural stone. The circle, symbolizing the divine, connects with the square, symbolizing the earthly. The rippled surface of the circle is gently washed by water, symbolizing Christ—whom Thomas Aquinas compared to a wave flooding the universe. Rapoldipark hasn’t always enjoyed the best reputation. Homeless people and drug users frequented the park just as often as families. Nevertheless, the people of Pradl are proud of their green lung on the edge of the city center, true to the motto: “In Pradl wohnt der Adel.” (“In Pradl lives the nobility.”)

In June 1929, after many construction delays, cost overruns, and heated public disputes between the editors of the Innsbrucker Nachrichten and the city’s construction office over the ambitious project, the Municipal Indoor Swimming Pool designed by Fritz Konzert finally went into operation. During the brief period between inflation, currency reform, and economic crisis, Innsbruck still had the budget for major construction projects. The indoor pool on Amraserstraße was the second expansion of the city’s bathing infrastructure during the interwar period. In 1927, following Konzert’s plans, the Municipal Steam Bath on Salurnerstraße had opened. The striking green façade of this Art Deco building is adorned with elaborate patterns. Colorful tiles, mosaics, and wooden wall panels made the steam bath a final salute to the monarchy and to Jugendstil. Today popular for enjoying sauna and wellness in the ambience of the early 20th century, the bathhouse was, for many Innsbruck residents, the only opportunity to experience running hot water. It served a new sense of hygiene that had become established since the 19th century. With the discovery of germ theory, cleanliness had shifted from a personal virtue to a public concern, aimed at strengthening the health of the population. In theory, every citizen was supposed to have equal access to personal hygiene. “Public health” was the mantra of the day. This social development attracted interest from life reformers, social democrats, liberals, and authoritarian state actors alike—though for different reasons. Like its counterpart on Salurnerstraße, the Municipal Indoor Pool on Amraserstraße included a large area with bathtubs where families could enjoy the luxury of proper body care. In addition to functioning as a bathhouse, it was also intended to serve as a sports facility. Physical exercise and fitness had become part of everyday life in the preceding decades. International comparisons in various sports were fiercely contested and became expressions of local and national pride. In the summer of 1928, the Allgemeine Tiroler Anzeiger criticized the performance of Tyrolean swimmers and divers and expressed the hope that “once the indoor pool in Innsbruck opens its doors, winter training will show such progress that even better results can be achieved.” For fairness’ sake, newspapers always listed swimmers’ performance separately for clubs with and without an indoor pool. Expanding the steam bath into a training and sports facility—an idea many contemporaries considered ideal—was impossible due to spatial limitations on Salurnerstraße. Pradl was selected as the new location. The nearby gasworks promised a modern connection to the energy network. In contrast to the steam bath, Konzert designed the Municipal Indoor Pool in the style of New Objectivity. This architectural form is characterized by smooth, unadorned surfaces and angular, cuboid elements. The entrance is framed by columns. The most impressive view of the Municipal Indoor Pool is from the south: its block-like components make the building resemble a small fortress. In the early years after its construction, two pylons stood on the former gasworks bridge in front of the pool, further reinforcing this impression. According to the guiding principles of the reform movement—“light, air, and sun”—the architecture was intended to allow sunbathing on the flat roof and to supply the pool with daylight through large glass surfaces. Visitors could stroll along the gallery above the pool and watch the swimmers below.

Like many buildings in Pradl, the Municipal Indoor Pool became a casualty of air raids during the Second World War. After the war, the pool was rebuilt. In 1969, a small beginners’ pool and a sauna were added. Following several renovations in the 1980s and 2010s, the Municipal Indoor Pool is today the flagship facility of the Innsbrucker Kommunalbetriebe in the areas of well-being and wellness. Various saunas, Kneipp basins, and warm rooms in the newly designed, modern part of the complex attract visitors—especially on weekends—seeking relaxation. The fundamental external structure of the building and the large, light-filled swimming hall with its competition pool and gallery still retain their original style. The listed building offers first-class enjoyment with modern amenities presented in the chic of the 1920s.

Innsbrucks einziges bis heute erhaltenes Steinhaus wurde 1885 von Josef Nigler für den Innsbrucker Industriellen Alois Epp (1845 - 1896) geplant. Wo heute nur noch die denkmalgeschützte Villa Epp steht, befand sich früher ein ganzes Ensemble an Gebäuden. An das Wohnhaus von Alois Epp schloss dessen Seifenfabrik samt Mensa für die Arbeiter an. In der Gründerzeit war es nicht ungewöhnlich, dass der Besitzer der Fabrik nahe der Produktionsstätte wohnte. Ähnlich verhielt es sich bei der Weyrer´schen Fabrik, die während derselben Epoche im heutigen Mühlau entstand. Die Villa in der Form eines groben Steinblocks wird von einem Baum etwas von der Straße geschützt. Die graue Fassade ist wild bewachsen. Die Villa wirkt wie ein Setting für ein Gruselhaus. Zwar wurde das Gebäude bei einem Luftangriff schwer beschädigt, jedoch 1:1 im Stile eines Renaissancepalazzos wieder aufgebaut. Sogar das ursprüngliche Material, die Tuffsteinquader, wurden aus dem abgebrochenen Festungsbau in Kufstein wiederbeschafft.

At least as interesting as the building itself is the history of the Epp family. Alois’s father, Joseph Epp (1810–1878), operated a soap‑boiling workshop in Innsbruck, where candles and oil lamps were also produced. In 1851, when Alois was six years old, his father had to serve a multi‑year prison sentence for counterfeiting money. The sensational crime was committed in an attempt to save the struggling factory. Alois attended school in Merano and Innsbruck. In 1861, he went to Stuttgart to learn the trade required to take over his father’s soap‑boiling business. Upon returning to Tyrol, he began contributing his own creative ideas to the newly opened soap factory. Together with the cotton‑spinning mill and the gasworks, the enterprise became one of the main drivers of Pradl’s growth in the 19th century. The times, however, were as turbulent as Epp’s nature. In 1866, he took part in the Italian campaign of the Imperial‑Royal Army in Cusano with the Innsbruck rifle company—a conflict in which the Austrian Empire, despite several victories, was forced to relinquish most of its Italian possessions. Epp was wounded in the fighting. After returning from the war, he joined the volunteer fire brigade and played a key role in establishing the Tyrolean Fire Brigade Association and a support fund for injured firemen. In 1873, Epp published the book “On Fire‑Fighting Methods.” Internal disputes, however, prompted him to withdraw from the association. That same year, Europe was hit by an economic crisis that severely affected Innsbruck’s businesses. Thanks to his diligence and innovative fragrance creations—such as King Laurin’s Rosengarten—Epp survived the Gründerkrach. In 1885, he returned to the ranks of the fire brigade, this time with political backing. By then, he was not only the owner of the soap factory and an important employer in Pradl but also a member of the Greater‑German‑oriented Innsbruck city council. In 1890, the father of six was elected chairman of the German‑Tyrolean Fire Brigade. Innsbruck established a professional fire brigade in 1899 under Mayor Wilhelm Greil. Epp died at the age of only 51, likely due in part to the immense workload he bore for his factory, political duties, and family. The perfumery Nägele & Strubell on Schlossergasse traces its origins to the Parfümerie Epp, which once served as the distribution outlet for goods produced in the factory.

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.

Between 1939 and 1942, the South Tyrolean Settlement of Pradl was built in the eastern part of Innsbruck, between Langstraße, Roßsprung, and Kranewitterstraße. At lightning speed—just as in Wilten, Saggen, and Reichenau—distinctive residential blocks clustered around generously designed courtyards were erected to warmly welcome German-speaking resettlers from South Tyrol to the capital of the Reichsgau Tyrol and Vorarlberg. Despite the National Socialists’ fondness for meticulous detail in planning the huge housing complex, no consideration was given to Christian pastoral care. When the Catholic Church experienced its revival after 1945 and Sunday Mass began to reclaim its place in everyday social life, the existing parish church of Pradl proved far too small for the newly created district and its inhabitants. In 1950, Apostolic Administrator and later Bishop Paulus Rusch therefore divided the oversized parish, with Neu-Pradl initially receiving only a vicariate rather than its own parish. In the same year, construction began on the first newly erected church of the post-war period.

Architect Karl Friedrich Albert designed the Parish Church of the Holy Guardian Angels in a kind of modern neo-Romanesque style. The entrance area consists of three arches topped by a circular window. Rounded forms also characterize the sturdy church tower. In its basic form, the building thus follows a traditional, deliberately unobtrusive approach rather than signaling a bold new beginning. After the horrors of the war, harmony was the order of the day. The austere exterior also reflects the economically difficult situation of the early post-war years. This distinguishes the Guardian Angels Church from later, far more modern and daring designs such as St. Norbert in Pradl South, the Parish Church of the Holy Family at the Wilten West cemetery, or even Horst Parson’s Petrus Canisius Church in Höttinger Au.

The church was consecrated in 1952, even before its final completion. The distinctive relief on the façade was added only in 1956. Here too, the decision fell on a traditional and rather plain design. The scandal surrounding Max Weiler’s images for the interior of the Theresienkirche on the Hungerburg a few years earlier was still fresh in the minds of those responsible, so they opted for a proven, conservative artist. Emmerich Kerle—who, besides many sacred works, also designed the façade of the Landesberufsschule on Mandelsbergerstraße and the eagle on the Liberation Monument at Landhausplatz—had his workshop in the basement of the Guardian Angels Church. The motif he created for the church reflects the spirit of the 1950s, which can be found in many works of the “Kunst am Bau” (Percent for Art) initiative. The guardian angel holds his protective hand over a well-behaved family and the coat of arms of Tyrol. On the left side of the interior, near the entrance, there is a classic altar dedicated to the veneration of Mary. The ornate stained-glass windows depict Pope Pius X (1835–1914), flanked by Saint Thérèse and Saint Francis. Pius was regarded as a defender of the Church against modernity. At his election, Emperor Franz Joseph I had issued a veto against his opponent, thus enabling the election of Pius. His church policy aligned with the thinking of Tyrol’s leading cleric, Paulus Rusch, who would later dedicate a church in Reichenau to him. The rest of the interior space and the gallery have an almost Protestant character. The massive entrance portals were also crafted by Kerle. The central one shows the four evangelists. The Bible verse on the side door also seems fitting for the spirit of the post-war era: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

The Soldiers’ Cemetery in Amras is a little‑known memorial site that reflects important chapters of European history within the cityscape of Innsbruck. The cemetery was established in 1917 during the First World War. The number of casualties far exceeded the capacity of the Old Military Cemetery. The village of Amras, located outside Innsbruck, was ideal for burying the realities of war away from the public eye. Its location was also practical, as the Conrad Barracks with a military hospital had been situated just a few minutes’ walk south of the new burial grounds since 1911. A total of 5,680 soldiers and war victims from many nations are buried here, most of whom died in the Innsbruck military hospital. Particularly interesting are the different sections of the military cemetery. The eastern entrance is adorned with a wrought‑iron emblem of the k.u.k. (Austro‑Hungarian) monarchy featuring the coats of arms of Hungary and Austria, the two parts of the Dual Monarchy—even though the motto Indivisibiliter et Inseparabiliter (“indivisible and inseparable”) has not been accurate since the end of the war. Beyond the entrance, the Italian section of the cemetery welcomes visitors with a large stone monument created by Italian sculptor Natale Tommasi. In Italian, German, and Latin, it commemorates the 618 Italians, 178 Austrians, and 2 French soldiers who fell between 1914 and 1918, as well as the 20 Italian victims of the Second World War who are buried here. The crown and Savoy knot on the monument symbolize the rule of the Italian royal house. For centuries, it had been the Habsburgs who left their mark on large parts of Italy; now the tables had turned. Tommasi’s biography is one of many that were disrupted by the political turmoil of the First World War and the collapse of the multinational Austro‑Hungarian Monarchy—just as many works of post‑war literature and visual art testify. In the 19th century, he worked as a restorer and architect in various parts of the Habsburg Empire such as Trieste and Pula. In Innsbruck, he designed the façade of the Ferdinandeum. In 1898 he moved his residence to Innsbruck, where he also planned the main post office in Maximilianstraße. He was honored for his work both by the Pope and with the Austrian Franz Joseph Order. As a Trentino native, he had been a subject of the Habsburg Monarchy during the war; after the division of the region at the Brenner Pass, he became Italian—and thus overnight a foreigner in his adopted city of Innsbruck.

Adjacent to the Italian section lies the Tyrolean part of the cemetery. In addition to soldiers of the First World War, honorary graves from the Napoleonic Wars of 1796–97 and 1799 can also be found here. Most of the wrought‑iron crosses were mass‑produced at the time, but today they appear like small works of art. It is fascinating to see how many nations’ men fought in the defensive war against Napoleon on behalf of the Austrian Monarchy. Unknown soldiers also found their final resting place here. Many graves have traveled a long way: when the local soldiers’ cemetery in Stams, 40 km west of Innsbruck, had to make way for the new motorway in 1983, the burial sites were relocated to Innsbruck. The following year, 175 years after the Tyrolean Uprising of 1809, the altar commemorating war victims was inaugurated.

In the rear part of the cemetery stands the male Pietà, the “Memorial of the Nameless Buried,” created by sculptor Eduard Föderl (1909–1974), a controversial artwork. During the period of Austrofascism, this stone composition was designed to commemorate the fallen of the First World War. It symbolizes heroic suffering and self‑sacrifice in war by placing the soldier’s heroic death for the fatherland on the same level as the crucifixion of Jesus. It was intended as a gift from the city of Vienna to Budapest. Both Austria and Hungary were then oriented toward Mussolini’s Fascist Italy, where many similarly designed war memorials still stand in public spaces today. The handover to the Hungarian government failed in 1938 due to the National Socialist takeover. In 1953, the monument was brought to Innsbruck after no appropriate location could be found—or wanted—in Soviet‑occupied Vienna. Around the year 2000, the Pietà was moved to the municipal works yard and restored. In 2023, the statue—controversial due to its symbolism glorifying death for the fatherland—was reinstalled at the Soldiers’ Cemetery.

In the western part of the grounds lie the Muslim and Soviet military cemeteries. The graves of Bosnian‑Herzegovinian soldiers who fought for the Austro‑Hungarian Monarchy in the First World War are marked by small, east‑facing stone cones topped with a fez. The Russian part of the cemetery was established in 1949. It commemorates the Soviet prisoners of war who lost their lives in the KZ Reichenau labor camp. At its center stands an obelisk adorned with a star. The maintenance of Soviet war memorials was established after the Second World War as an obligation of the Republic of Austria—one of the conditions for Austrian independence demanded by the Soviet Union—and remains in effect today.

North of the Soldiers’ Cemetery lies the Pradl Cemetery, the city’s largest. The grounds were designed in 1912 by Eduard Klingler in the style of the late monarchy. The enclosing wall with its artworks was one of the last Neo‑Gothic projects before the end of Historicism, though it already shows influences of modernism. The entire cemetery is surrounded by a wall with small towers, and its eastern corners provide benches for rest. At the southeastern corner, a crucifix watches over the faithful. The northeastern bench is overlooked by a modern icon of the Mother of God with her son, flanked by two girls holding grapes. This Madonna of the Grapes is the patron saint of wine carriers and vintners; the grapes symbolize the spilled blood of her son. In the Gospel of John, after his blood flowed from the cross into the chalice of the Last Supper, Jesus was described as the “true vine.” This depiction was especially popular in Gothic art of the late Middle Ages and early modern period. The consecration and mortuary hall rises like a castle among the surrounding apartment buildings. The building appears as if taken from a Charles Dickens novel set in Victorian England. The entrance area was designed entirely in the classical style of the period. Inside one finds a depiction of Jesus being taken down from the cross. The peaceful character of the mural differs greatly from the otherwise common Baroque representations in Innsbruck, which emphasize Christ’s suffering on the cross.

On the south side, integrated into the cemetery wall, the crypt chapel commemorates the fallen soldiers until 1917 who found their final resting place here. It was designed by Theodor Prachensky. The interior of the chapel is a small work of art. A dark blue mosaic with gold lettering bears the inscription: Dedicated to the memory of the victims of the world war buried in this cemetery. The walls contain name lists, arranged by their year of death. The names of Serbian, Romanian, and Montenegrin soldiers—those who were not part of the Austro‑Hungarian army—were listed separately on individual plaques. The plaque on the outer southern wall facing Wiesengasse is decorated with an oak‑leaf wreath, a symbol of pan‑German nationalism. Its inscription reads:

“Never forget that the freedom of your homeland is not a gift from heaven alone, but has again and again had to be defended with the heavy blood‑sacrifices of your fathers, grandfathers, and ancestors against the wicked grasp of foreign powers.”

South of the Soldiers’ Cemetery, at the far edge of the grounds, lies the Innsbruck crematorium with its urn garden. When the Enlightenment swept across the European elites in the 18th and 19th centuries like a second Renaissance, more and more people questioned earth burial. Choosing cremation based on ancient models became fashionable. It was not only considered reasonable, space‑saving, and hygienic, but also carried a touch of modernity. Particularly in Innsbruck’s liberal circles—constantly embroiled in disputes with the conservative powers governing the rest of Tyrol—the desire grew for the possibility of taking one’s final journey as a heap of ashes. Social democrats also supported cremation, though before the First World War they had no influence in the municipal council or the state parliament. The Catholic Church, however, opposed this unchristian, pagan form of burial for a long time. Although an urn garden was established at the Wilten West Cemetery in 1927, a crematorium could not be implemented due to the protests of a large part of the population. In Innsbruck, it would take until the 21st century before it became possible to consign one’s mortal remains to the flames. It was not until 2013 that the crematorium—built as a modest and unobtrusive functional structure—was opened by a consortium of Innsbruck funeral companies.

Anyone approaching from the west and turning into Philippine-Welser-Straße would hardly suspect, given the large apartment blocks, that the original village of Amras is located here. “True” Amras residents still somewhat mockingly refer to the inhabitants of the modern complexes as “Zuagroaste” (newcomers), “Blöckler” (block dwellers), or “Stiegenhäusler” (stairwell residents). After just a few meters, however, the farmhouses that characterize Amras as a village within the city come into view. Since 1997, a memorial commemorating the incorporation of Amras in 1938 has stood in front of the Stecherhof in the middle of Philippine-Welser-Straße, next to the marble village fountain. The relatively recent monument is adorned with a statue of Saint Pancras, the Merciful Mother, and the coat of arms of Innsbruck as a symbol of its integration into the city. The street is named after Philippine Welser, the wife of Ferdinand II, who remains popular among the local population to this day thanks to the many legends surrounding her. With the lush gardens in front of the Amras farmhouses—some of which resemble small castles—the former sovereign lady would likely have been delighted. The façades and bay windows are decorated with motifs in the style of rural Baroque, embedded in Tyrolean country life. The elaborately renovated residences suggest that today’s Amras farmers earn their livelihoods less through time-consuming and strenuous fieldwork than through the sale and management of real estate—property that came into their possession following the emancipation of land in 1848 and has increased considerably in value over the centuries. Particularly worth seeing are house numbers 85, 88, and 101. Many façades display depictions of the “Amraser Gnadenmutter,” a local variation of the Madonna veneration common in Tyrol. According to legend, the Merciful Mother saved the child of a princely couple who had fallen from a window of Schloss Ambras. In gratitude, the parents donated an image of the Merciful Mother to the parish church, where it has since held a special place in local village tradition. She exemplifies the way legendary figures merge with Christianity into a particularly devout blend. The image above the entrance to the Amras parish church, created by the Tyrolean artist Hans Andre, shows the Merciful Mother on an official mission alongside a Tyrolean rifleman and a woman in traditional Tyrolean dress. In the background, the Amras parish church itself can be seen. This depiction of the church portraying itself is a special expression of popular piety that can be found on several churches throughout the region. It symbolizes the Holy Land of Tyrol, based on the covenant with the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus from 1796. Another noteworthy work of art can be found on the façade of the war memorial chapel next to the Amras parish church. The depiction of the Last Judgment—with saints, angels, and devils leading the righteous citizens to paradise after earthly life while dragging the wicked into the jaws of hell—is a vivid example of the religious imagination of the Baroque Counter-Reformation.

Schloss Ambras ist das Highlight der Renaissancekultur in Innsbruck. Die Highlights eines Besuches sind neben der kostenfreien Besichtigung der großen Gartenanlagen bei einem Spaziergang die Rüstkammer und die noch heute umfassende Gemäldesammlung, der Innenhof mit seinen gotischen Wandmalereien, der prunkvolle Spanische Saal, Philippine Welser's bathroom and the richly decorated St Nicholas Chapel from the 19th century. The history of the castle stretches from the beginnings of Innsbruck to the 20th century. Even in the early Middle Ages, a fortification stood on the site of today's Ambras Castle. The Counts of Andechs had built a castle, which was destroyed in 1133 during a feud between Otto II of Andechs and Duke Henry the Proud of Bavaria as part of the investiture dispute between the Hohenstaufen and Guelph dynasties. The issue at stake was whether the pope or king were allowed to appoint bishops they trusted. The question was important for the Andechs, as they were dependent on the goodwill of the respective church leaders in order to retain their offices and fiefdoms.

On the ruins of that castle, a new fortress was built in the 13th century, which had little in common with the present‑day palace. The Tyrolean sovereign Sigismund had the structure remodeled to make it more comfortable for his wife, Catherine of Saxony—marking the beginning of its transformation from a defensive fortification into a residential palace. His successor, Maximilian, pledged the castle to Wilhelm Schurff (1484–1556), the brother of his steward. Under Maximilian’s great‑grandson, Archduke Ferdinand II, Ambras was remodeled by court master builder Lucchese into the Renaissance palace visible today. Innsbruck was meant to rival the princely courts of northern Italy. Evidence that Ferdinand was aware of the excessive construction costs can be found in the inscription above the entrance to the Upper Castle: “Pretium laborum non vile” (“The price of labor is not small”). In 1564, Ferdinand had the Upper Castle, the Spanish Hall, and a palace garden laid out. Together with his wife, Philippine Welser, he used the new complex as a residence. The estate was financed partly through the profits of the Welser family's colonial trade ventures, but primarily through substantially increased taxes levied on the populace.

Lavish festivities were held at the new court. Noble guests—often traveling between the German lands and Italy—enjoyed Ferdinand’s hospitality extensively. On average, around 100 guests dined at court, served by 230 staff members. A water‑powered rotating dining table, which made the dishes easily accessible to all, was the technological marvel of the palace. Ferdinand hosted elaborate themed festivities with costumes and feasts in the spirit of the Renaissance. At the Bacchanalia, participants were required to drink enormous goblets of wine in a single pull to imitate the practices of ancient symposia. The Bacchus Grotto opposite the Upper Castle still recalls these events. The mechanical “drinking chair,” whose foot clamps released only once the wine was consumed, along with the accompanying drinking registers listing successful drinkers, were later transferred to Vienna. In addition to such pleasures, the court engaged in the sport of the time: hunting. Hunting rights were a privilege of the nobility and depended on the ruler’s favor. After Maximilian I’s reforms around 1500, hunting developed into a formalized sport. Stag and chamois hunting was generally reserved for the high aristocracy, while the lower nobility hunted rabbits, roe deer, and smaller animals. This distinction gave rise to the terms Hochwild (high game) and Niederwild (low game). The garden, including its impressive waterfall, was established as the palace’s private hunting ground under Ferdinand. Thus, the prince and his guests could hunt directly outside their door—hunts that, due to the unequal odds between hunter and prey, were usually successful.

Ferdinand housed his extensive art collection in the Lower Castle. The portraits, paintings, weapons, armour, musical instruments, as well as scientific research objects, early mechanical automata and astronomical devices, were considered one of the largest collections in Europe in the 16th century. In the spirit of the late Renaissance, Ferdinand wanted to do justice to the universal claim to knowledge. His collection also bears witness to the influence that Jesuit scholars had on him at court and in education. Objects from all over the world found their way to Innsbruck via the Habsburgs' colonial possessions and the Welser family's trade relations in South America and Asia. Together with the art collection of the French King Francis I, from which the Louvre was to emerge, the papal collections and the works publicly exhibited in Florence on the Piazza della Signoria With its many works of art on display, some of which can be admired today in the Uffizi Gallery, Ferdinand's art collection was one of the first exhibitions that could be described as a museum. Ambras Castle was probably unique in terms of the scope and diversity of its artefacts.

In the 19th century, the complex gradually transformed from a closed aristocratic domain into a public space. The castle park, designed in the style of an English landscape garden, was created during this period. A walk through the extensive, multi‑level grounds—with bridges, waterfalls, ponds, and peacocks—has its charm in every season. In 1859, another renovation of the castle took place. Some walls, rooms, and frescoes were irretrievably lost due to improper work. In 1876, Johann Deininger—later co‑founder and first director of the Imperial and Royal State Trade School (today’s HTL)—was brought to Innsbruck to oversee the restoration professionally, particularly that of the Spanish Hall. Four years later, the castle was opened to the public as a museum under his supervision.

Nestled in the forest slightly above Ambras Castle lies the remarkable burial and memorial site known as the Tummelplatz. The name derives from the horses of Ambras Castle, which were trained here outside the gates of the princely residence and thus “tummelten” (frolicked). The crosses and gravestones—of varying ages and in some cases elaborately crafted—tell the stories and fates of soldiers from different eras. The clearing began its function as a cemetery during the Napoleonic Wars. When the fighting reached Tyrol between 1796 and 1815, the then‑vacant Ambras Castle was converted into a military hospital. Many of those who died there were buried at the nearby Tummelplatz. In 1799, Amras’s local leader Johann Georg Sokopf placed a sign at the entrance to the burial site in the forest, officially marking it as such. During the wars of 1848, 1859, and 1866, Ambras Castle again served as a hospital. Soldiers from all crown lands of the vast Habsburg Empire—and five nurses who died at the castle—were buried at the Tummelplatz until 1856. Before long, eerie legends about the soldiers’ cemetery circulated among the people of Innsbruck. After an apparition of the Virgin Mary and a reported miraculous healing, the Tummelplatz became a pilgrimage site. Small chapels soon appeared. Today, six chapels of different styles and periods sit among the graves. At the eastern entrance, visitors are welcomed by the Kaiserschützen Chapel, designed by Clemens Holzmeister and built in 1922 under the supervision of Theodor Prachensky. The Tyrolean artist Alfons Walde created the mural depicting two Kaiserschützen in large format. The chapel houses a relic of the last Habsburg emperor, Karl I. In 2004, more than 80 years after his death on Madeira, he was beatified at the initiative of the Kaiser Karl Prayer League, founded in 1895 and chaired by the Archbishop of Vienna. The relic—a splinter of one of the emperor’s finger bones—was transferred to its final resting place in 2017 in the presence of the emperor’s last grandson, as well as representatives of the Kaiserschützen Association, the Wilten brass band, the Tyrolean riflemen, and numerous high‑ranking Tyrolean and Innsbruck politicians.

The most striking structure is the Cross Chapel (Kreuzkapelle), funded through donations in 1897. On 11 October of that year, the Innsbrucker Nachrichten reported:

„Auf der dem Tummelplatz zugekehrten Stirnseite ist der Eingang der Kapelle in gothischem Spitzbogen. Eine über dem Portale angebrachten Marmortafel verkündet die Widmung der Kapelle zur frommen Erinnerung an die in den Freiheitskämpfen von 1797 und 1809 gefallenen und hier begrabenen Krieger. Den oberen Teil des Giebels schmückt ein Rundfenster in Form eines Dreipasses. Überkrönt ist die ganze Stirnseite von einem als Thürmchen für 2 hellklingende Glöcklein verwendeten Dachreiter, der einen stilgerechten Abschluss bildet. … Im Schiffe der Kapelle ist an der Wand der Westseite neben dem Fenster eine Votivtafel aus Marmor in die Mauer eingelassen, deren Inschrift an das furchtbare Schicksal erinnert, welches beim Brande eines Wohltätigkeitsbazarss in Paris am 4. Mai 1897 die Herzogin Charlotte Augusta von Alencon ereilte.“

Die Fassade wurde während des Ersten Weltkriegs 1917 von Anton Kirchner gestaltet und zeigt Soldaten der Italienfront, die einen Holzsarg ziehen. Die Mater Dolorosa mit dem Leichnam Christi im Arm, bekniet von Schützen und Soldaten wacht über der gespenstischen Szene. Darunter findet sich ein martialisches Gedicht Anton Müllers (1870 – 1939), besser bekannt als Bruder Willram, der während des Ersten Weltkriegs mit seinen Schriften und Predigten zu Antisemitismus, Kriegshetze und Propaganda beitrug. Er verband die Erhebung von 1809, Tiroler Heldenmut, Kaisertreue und Katholizismus zu einem Bild, dem die Schlachten des industrialisierten Kriegs zwischen 1914 und 1918 wohl nicht entsprachen. Die erste Strophe lautet:

“It was in our glorious fathers’ time,

when ancestors pledged their lives sublime

as sacrifice to hostile might.

Now dyed the grandson with his blood

the dust of fathers with holy flood

upon our everlasting heights.”

During the renovation of the chapel in 1969, Anton Plattner’s painting ‘The Risen Savior Overcomes Death’ was added to the interior. In addition to these two main chapels, the Tummelplatz also features the Sokopf Chapel—named after the Amras municipal leader who officially marked the site—the Lourdes Chapel, the Antonius Chapel, and the Joseph Chapel. Student fraternities, professional guilds, and associations commemorate their fallen members with monuments at the Tummelplatz.

Today, the Tummelplatz serves both as a memorial site for relatives of war victims buried far away on the battlefields of the world wars and as a reminder of the importance of peace. The various monuments and grave inscriptions demonstrate how dramatically perspectives on war and peace have shifted since World War I, when a population shaped by propaganda was willing to sacrifice its life “on the field of honor” for God, Emperor, and Fatherland. One gravestone, bearing an image of the Virgin Mary (Gnadenmutter Mariahilf) by Lucas Cranach, features a poem that reads:

I wore it with honour,

the Kaiserjäger dress of honour,

and was in his younger days,

also willing to die.

To die for the fatherland,

is the soldier's fortune, he will inherit heaven,

and does not want to go back.

So do not weep for your loved ones,

it's well done to me,

and you remained the consolation,

that we will meet again.

It is to be hoped that misguided patriotism expressed on inscriptions such as ‘We are ready to give property and life for the Fatherland’ will forever remain a thing of the past. At Christmas and other holidays, especially on the first Sunday after All Saints’ Day, events are held to commemorate the fallen. Kaiserjäger, Kaiserschützen, politicians, and clergy gather to solemnly call for peace—sometimes under traditions that appear rather bizarre, dressed in historical costumes.