After the disappearance of the Western Roman Empire and its associated administrative structures, Germanic tribes took control of the territory of what is now Innsbruck. In North Tyrol, between the rule of the Imperium Romanum and that of Emperor Charles (748–814)—that is, during the period known as the Migration Period, Late Antiquity, or the Early Middle Ages—a whole range of different peoples were active. Alongside the Romanised Breones, Goths, Lombards, Bavarians (Bajuwarians), Suebi, and Slavs settled in the regions north of the Brenner Pass, living alongside, behind, and intermingled with one another. In the central Inn Valley, the Bavarians were able to establish themselves as the dominant regional power. Although the Roman fort of Veldidena was destroyed during the process of settlement, the transition for the Breonic‑Romanised population was probably less sudden and violent than gradual and fluid. The Bavarians were not barbaric destroyers; rather, they had been in contact with the Roman world for centuries in one form or another. Armed conflict was likely the exception. Over time, the cultures merged during a period in which political authority was relatively loose in nature. The everyday spoken language was a form of Germanic, while Latin had already established itself early on as the written language. The most important legacy of Rome—and soon a unifying element—was Christianity. From the 8th century onward, the Bavarians were Christianised. Under Emperor Charles, the “barbarian” Bavarians became Christian dukes of Bavaria, and with them the Inn Valley became part of the Holy Roman Empire, which extended over large parts of Central Europe and northern Italy. In administration, they relied on the church structures inherited from the Romans, as clerics were often the only literate members of society. Instead of the regional magistrates of the Roman emperors, an armoured aristocracy now ruled as feudal lords of the Frankish king Charles, anointed by the Pope, governing in God’s name over subjects who continued—largely undisturbed—to toil in agriculture. The Christian Church Father Paul had laid the theological foundation for this system in his Letter to the Romans:

Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, whoever rebels against authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the authority? Then do what is right and you will be commended. For the one in authority is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for rulers do not bear the sword for no reason. They are God’s servants, agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer. Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also as a matter of conscience. This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God’s servants, who give their full time to governing.

Culturally, Christianity in the Alpine region proved adaptable to existing traditions and customs. Christian martyrs and saints replaced pagan polytheism. Ancient festivals such as the winter solstice, harvest celebrations, or the beginning of spring were integrated into the Christian calendar and replaced by Christmas, All Saints’ Day, and Easter. Popular legends surrounding miraculous plants, ominous mountain peaks, magical beings such as the Salige Fräulein, enchanted kings, and other mythical figures could continue to be revered alongside Christianity without difficulty.

Two of the most popular legendary figures in Innsbruck to this day play the central roles in the foundation myth of Wilten Abbey. An extraordinarily strong knight, known as the giant Haymon, travelled to Tyrol at some point between Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. There he encountered the long‑established giant Thyrsus of Seefeld. While the Germanic Haymon was equipped in modern fashion with sword and shield, Thyrsus—who bore a Romanised name but is portrayed in legend as a wild Alpine inhabitant—had only a tree trunk as his weapon. As fate would have it, the sword struck down the wooden club, and Thyrsus lay slain on the ground in his own blood. Filled with remorse over his deed, Haymon converted to Christianity and was baptised by the Bishop of Chur. Instead of constructing a military fortress as originally planned, the repentant warrior built a monastery on the ruins of the Roman fort of Veldidena. Despite his newfound piety, his time of heroic deeds was not yet over. In the nearby Sill Gorge there dwelled a fearsome dragon that not only devastated the new construction every night but also made meaningful settlement of the region impossible. Haymon slew the monster, cut out its tongue, and bequeathed it to his own foundation. After his career as a dragon slayer, Haymon handed the monastery over to the Benedictine monks from Tegernsee and himself entered the order as a lay brother. The people of the region were so grateful to the giant for liberating them from the dragon that they willingly placed themselves under the tithe‑paying protection of Wilten Abbey, cultivating the formerly wild land as farmers. And the moral of the story? Haymon represents the initially violent but later noble and benevolent Germanic settlers; Thyrsus stands for the brave and wild, yet ultimately defeated inhabitants of the region between the Seefeld Plateau and the Brenner Pass. The dragon symbolises the evil, destructive, and unchristian paganism that is eradicated by the converted German. The monastery brothers—richly endowed by the valiant knight—are the organising force without which nothing would function. Over the centuries, the Haymon legend and its moral proved just as flexible as Christianity itself during its introduction in Late Antiquity. At times, Haymon was portrayed as a nobleman from the Rhine who came to Tyrol after the death of Charlemagne; at other times, he appeared as a follower of the Ostrogothic king Theoderic—better known as Dietrich of Bern—travelling between Ravenna and Germany. From the Middle Ages until the 19th century, the focus lay on Haymon’s conversion, the protection of the peasant subjects by Christian knighthood, and the foundation of the monastery, all serving to legitimise the benevolent feudal system. In an article in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten of 2 October, however, the author Dr Franz Wöß almost entirely set aside the Catholic aspect of the monastery’s construction and instead emphasised the heroic German element, before turning to the healing properties of Thyrsus oil, which the farmers of Seefeld had extracted from oil‑bearing shale stones since the Middle Ages. In this version of the legend, after his heroic deeds Haymon withdrew into the wilderness of Seefeld as a hermit rather than ending his life as a cleric at Wilten Abbey. After the Second World War, there was once again a desire to distance oneself as much as possible from Germanic identity. The mural created in 1956 on the façade of the “Gasthaus zum Riesen Haymon” depicts the defeated Thyrsus, bearing the Austrian coat of arms—entirely in keeping with the post‑war victim narrative.