And Love weighed down the drooping flowers Hers was the bounty but to be, THE PASSION-PLAY AT BRIXLEGG. ON a wet Sunday morning, in the month of August, in the present year, we found ourselves in a special train, going from Innsbruck to the obscure little Tyrolese village of Brixlegg. The train carried a very considerable number of passengers, chiefly of the peasant class, and-with about half a dozen exceptions-all natives of the country. A special train to Brixlegg! The announcement would vastly have astonished any traveller by one of the great through trains traversing Innsbruck, who might have chanced to inquire whither all those bearers of glistening red, blue, brown, or green, umbrellas were bound. Nevertheless, the special train was going to Brixlegg, and it arrived there duly at its appointed hour. The railway station lies about twenty minutes' walk distant from the village. The road from the former to the latter was already ankle-deep in mud in many places, and was becoming rapidly worse under the tread of many heavily-shod feet, and the influence of a soft, fine, unintermitting rain, which had been falling since dawn, and which continued to fall with small prospect of ces sation. pressed on eagerly towards our destination, which soon appeared in sight at a turn of the road. It was a large wooden building, like a colossal barn. It stood on an irregular open space at one extremity of the village. This open space was, no doubt, in its normal condition a pretty turf-covered common, green with that emerald vividness of hue which gives a peculiar charm to the aspect of every Tyrolese valley. On this Sunday morning, however, it had become a morass, a Slough of Despond, through which we floundered towards one of the numerous doors that gave access to the wooden building aforesaid. Arrived at the entrance, we paid the price of admission-two florins for the best placesand having climbed a rough wooden stair, found ourselves in a little side balcony which afforded a view of the whole interior of the building. The erection was entirely of wood, as has been said. One glance sufficed to show the spectator its nature and object. We were in a theatre-a theatre rough in material, and somewhat unconventional in form, but spacious, airy, and admirably adapted for seeing and hearing without difficulty or discomfort. There was neither gallery nor "dress circle." The great mass of the spectators were seated on wooden benches on the floor of the theatre, which floor sloped upward towards the back at an angle sufficient to enable the persons on the hindmost benches to command as full a view of the stage as those in front. The stage was hidden, for the present, by a painted canvas drop-scene, which hung in a large proscenium rather wide for its height. In front of it was an orchestra, filled with players; and between them and the foremost row of spectators were seated some dozen singers, male and female, holding their music in their hands. The dimensions of the audience part of the theatre were as follows: fifty-six feet broad, thirty-six feet high, and one hundred and four feet long. The whole of the available space was filled by a closely-packed assemblage of persons exclusively of the peasant class. Row after row of weather-beaten rustic faces, surmounted We trudged along in company with a large number of peasants, who continued to arrive from all directions. In addition to those men's and women's alike-by the tall pointed brought by the railway from Innsbruck, very Tyrolese hat, stretched back to the wall of the many came on foot, and more still in rustic building. The narrow space at each side left vehicles of various kinds: from the leather- for ingress and egress to and from the seats hooded einspänner of the well-to-do farmer, was also crowded with spectators, who stood down to the long narrow country carts, car-patiently throughout the whole performance. rying heavy loads of men, women, and chil-Truly a lengthy performance! What would dren of the humblest agricultural class, seated any sophisticated metropolitan population in on trusses of hay. The village of Brixlegg is very beautifully situated. Indeed it would be difficult to find a spot which should be otherwise than beautiful throughout the length and breadth of the fair green land of Tyrol. But not of its swelling hills, its distant snow-flecked crags, or its rich smiling meadows, were we thinking as we went along through the mire past the picturesque cottages of Brixlegg's main street. In common with the rest of the crowd we Europe say to a play which should commence at nine o'clock A.M. and end at five in the afternoon, allowing little more than one hour in the middle for repose and refreshment? And now, while the musicians in the orchestra are playing a preliminary symphony in a melancholy minor strain, let us take the opportunity afforded us to inform the reader what manner of spectacle it is that we are about to witness, and to enter into sundry explanatory details gathered from a little neatly printed pamphlet sold (by authority) in large watchful to prevent it, where prevention is numbers in the theatre. And let us, too, before possible. All the difficulties which had to be entering into those details, premise that, however surmounted before the Passion-Play at Brixlegg at variance much of the forthcoming represen- could be announced for public representation tation may be with English and Protestant con- are enumerated with much gravity in the little ceptions of what is fitting, decorous, or edifying, pamphlet we have spoken of. The recital of these no trace of levity or irreverence was to be found difficulties, however, albeit interesting enough among either the performers or spectators of no doubt to the Brixleggers, would scarcely the very extraordinary exhibition. Here follows be so in the eyes of English readers. We will the literal translation of the first page of the therefore rest contented with saying that all programme of the drama: obstacles were surmounted by the end of March, 1868, and that in the last weeks of May the following announcement, printed on large EXPIATORY SACRIFICE UPON GOLGOTIIA; yellow bills, was to be met with everywhere THE GREAT OR, THE HISTORY OF THE PASSION AND DEATH OF JESUS AFTER THE FOUR EVANGELISTS; WITH throughout northern Tyrol, from the busiest market-town to the remotest most secluded hamlet: "By highest permission of the imperial royal Pictorial Representations from the Old Testament, governmental department in Innsbruck, and Music and Singing, FOR Contemplation and Edification. Surely a singular product of the printing-press in this nineteenth century! The peasants of Tyrol have for centuries been famous for their skill and delight in a class of dramatic representations which they call "Bauern-Comödien"-literally, Peasant-Comedies. These are chiefly to the best of my knowledge, exclusively-founded upon religious subjects, such as the life and miracles of some saints, or a well-known legend of Holy Church. In these remote valleys there still lingers a remnant of the Mystery, or Miracle Play of the Middle Ages; nor need the reader be informed that the Bauern-Comödien are by no means the only remnants to be found in Tyrol of centuries so long vanished from our ken that it is almost difficult for us to conceive of those who breathed and moved in them as fellow-creatures, holding the bond of a common humanity with ourselves. Old-world thoughts, beliefs, and feelings, still exist behind the shelter of the crags and peaks of Tyrol, and have taken refuge in its secluded dales, in a manner strictly analogous to the gradual retreat of decaying races of men or animals before the busy world's encroaching advances. with most gracious leave of the Prince Bishop of Salzburg, there will be represented in Brixlegg, near the railway-station, in the lower valley of the Inn, in Tyrol, the Great Expiatory Sacrifice upon Golgotha." [Here followed the title of the Passion-Play, already quoted. The announce - bill then stated the days on which the performances were to take placethe twelve Sundays, namely, from the seventh of June to the sixth of September inclusive. It gave the prices of admission, which ranged from thirty kreutzers to two florins (children under ten years of age half price), and concluded thus]: "This grand and sublime piece, in the performance of which about three hundred persons from Brixlegg, Kramsach, and the surrounding villages, will participate, begins at nine o'clock in the morning. The hour from mid-day until one o'clock in the afternoon is set apart for the necessary refreshment of the honoured public. The conclusion at about five in the evening. The commencement of each part will be announced by music and a discharge of guns. A right numerous attendance is most politely and respectfully invited by the company." The drama was divided into sixteen represen tations. We translate the word literally, but the nearest English equivalent would probably be "acts," of which six make up the first and shortest part of the performance; leaving ten for the second part. The Bauern-Comödien are written, arranged, acted, and witnessed, entirely by peasants. These "representations" consist invariably Their performance is not unfrequent at certain of three divisions. Firstly, the argument set festive seasons, and the rude open-air theatre forth in long-winded, rather jingling rhymes, used for their exhibition is easily and cheaply and spoken by one or other of a troop of prepared in a country where timber is abun- angels who fill the place of the chorus in a dant. But the production of a Passions-Spiel Greek tragedy. Secondly, a typical picture, a (Passion-Play) such as we were about to wit-tableau vivant taken from the Old Testament, ness at Brixlegg is a very different and much and shadowing forth with more or less suit. more important matter. Treating of a far ability of allegory, the corresponding events in higher and more solemn argument than the the life of our Lord. Thirdly, the action. This Bauern-Comödien, great care and circumspection are exercised in granting permission for the playing of a Passions-Spiel: such care and circumspection being exercised chiefly for the avoidance of any possible "scandal" to religion in the performance. "Scandal" is a great evil in the eyes of Mother Church, and she is ever latter is simply the story of the persecution, passion, and crucifixion of Jesus Christ, taken literally from the New Testament, with only such interpolations and additions as serve to string together the incidents in a dramatic form. Where it is necessary to the prosecu tion and coherence of any scene, a few plain words of simple dialogue are put into the mouths of the chief personages, by the compiler of the drama. Otherwise they speak the language of the Evangelists. It is to be observed, however, that in no single instance is any word spoken by Jesus, save those to be found in Scripture. He speaks invariably in the texts with which we are all familiar, and utters no syllable else. In a spectacle of which the naïve and audacious realism is astounding, this fact is significant and worth recording. the more-does our objection remain in force. But the Passion-Play at Brixlegg was intended to appeal solely to the emotional part of human nature, and certainly did not appeal in vain. painting is of the coarsest, but it suffices to convey the meaning of the scene. The stage at first is empty, but loud cries and shouts of joy are heard drawing nearer and nearer. Presently there emerges a little knot of children clad in bright-hued Oriental robes, and bearing long green branches in their hands. They are followed by men and women, old and young, and by a group of poorly dressed men whom we recognise as being copied from the conventional types of the old painters. Peter, with But now the wailing music dies away. A bald head and reverend grey beard; John, with hush of expectancy falls on the audience. Every long womanish curls; Judas, with red hair face is addressed towards the proscenium. On and beard, and yellow garments. More poto the stage in front of the curtain, step forth pulace all shouting "Hosanna to the Son of some five-and-twenty girls who represent an- David! Hail to him who cometh in the name gels. They are dressed in white robes reaching of the Lord!" And then-; the sensation to the ankle, and trimmed with gold tinsel; and is indescribable with which we beheld the enwear a drapery of blue or crimson cloth also trance of that meek figure seated on an ass, glittering with gold. They have each a golden before whom the people cast down their garfillet round the head, and wear red or blue ments and strewed branches in the way! No morocco boots according to the colour of their abstract conviction respecting the undesirability draperies. They are carefully graduated in of the spectacle, no theoretical objection to the size; the tallest a stout country lass of ap-teaching and spirit of which such a spectacle parently about seventeen years old-standing was the outcome, could avail to lessen the proin the centre to form the apex, whilst the found and almost painfully intense impression others range themselves in line across the of that moment. None the less-perhaps even proscenium facing the audience, diminishing regularly on either hand, down to the height of a child of nine or ten years, who finishes the line at each extremity. The centre angel announces the argument of the forthcoming "representation," and, her speech being at an end, the chorus of angels divides, half going to the right and half to the left, so as to leave the centre of the scene open to the view of the spectators. A bell tingles, and the heavy rudely painted canvas curtain rises and discloses the first picture. It is a complex one, containing three distinct subjects. On the right, are Adam and Eve eating the fatal fruit beneath the forbidden tree. On the left, is Abraham with uplifted hand about to slay Isaac, who lies bound upon a pile of fagots before him. In the centre, is a tall cross draped After the entry into Jerusalem, came the with black gauze, which angels surround in driving of the money-changers from the Temple, contemplation. For a short time the pictures and the answer respecting the tribute-money, remain motionless. The angelic chorus on "Render unto Cæsar, the things which are either hand point with outstretched forefinger Cæsar's." Jesus with his disciples then left to the scene. The stage is surprisingly spacious; the Temple, and the chief priests and pharisees more so than in many theatres of European took counsel together how they might destroy fame; and very large numbers are able to move and group upon it without confusion or crowding. Suddenly, at a signal given by the soft sounding of a small bell, the tableau changes. A cherubim with flaming sword drives forth our first parents, who cower abashed from his presence. A heavenly messenger appears to stay the hand of Abraham, who releases his son and fondly embraces him. Lastly, the sombre drapery drops away from the cross, and the surrounding angels fall on their knees and worship. On this, the chorus disappear and the curtain falls. It rises again almost immediately and shows a scene which displays the whole depth and breadth of the stage. It represents a street in Jerusalem. The Jesus was represented as a sad, pale, gentle, man, with flowing hair and beard, clad in a long plain robe of a rich blue colour; he had bare feet bound with sandals, and trod with a certain simple dignity, very marvellous and noteworthy, remembering that the representative was a mere ignorant uncultured peasant. A man who laboured hard with plough or spade for his daily bread, and who had required much careful instruction before his tongue was able to modify its habitual dialect so as to speak the words of his part in fairly well-pronounced German. him. The representation ended with a fierce cry of "Vengeance, vengeance! We will have bloody vengeance!" In this the discomfited money-changers, who had been driven from the Temple, joined eagerly. And on this the curtain fell. Of a performance which lasted so long, and which contained sixteen of such " representations" each consisting of rhyming prologue, dumb tableau, and dramatic action, it would, of course, be impossible to give a detailed account in the space at our command. But we will select a few striking points for description. First in numerical order comes the angel chorus. These angels are not very interesting personages, it must be owned. They stand square fronting, rigid, painfully conscientious in the matter of keeping their blue or red-booted feet at the same angle, heel to heel. They speak in a high pitched strained voice, and raise their arms stiffly at certain rhetorical points in the jingling measure. They have been laboriously and assiduously drilled in every turn of the hand, every glance of the eye, every inflection of the voice. The sole good resulting, is, that they are one and all distinct and audible in their speech. Nay, perhaps, that may not be the sole good resulting; seeing that they are peasant children, ignorant, awkward, uncouth, in their every-day demeanour, one other excellent result of the pains bestowed upon them has been to suppress a great deal in voice, manner, and gesture, which would otherwise have proved offensive or ludicrous. Even as it is, it is curious to observe how the natural inequalities of intelligence among these girls reveal themselves unmistakeably. One little maid, the last of the line, and consequently one of the smallest children there, recites her verse when it comes to her turn, with a fervour and feeling that break through the parrot stiffness and uniformity. True, she raises her eyes, and stretches her arms, and clasps her little hands precisely as her instructor has bidden her to do. But the difference between this little one and her companions is, that whilst with them every gesture appears to be caused from without, as though an invisible wire pulled them hither and thither, her limbs are manifestly moved by some spirit within. Next in order come the tableaux vivants. Of these it may be said that the grouping is almost always picturesque and good, and that the costumes are very fairly accurate-with one very notable exception; a king Ahasuerus, whose Turkish trousers and preposterous turban are not to be contemplated with gravity. The performers, if not especially graceful, are commendably still and firm in their attitudes. Among the best pictures, were the sale of Joseph by his brethren (a really pretty pastoral picture, simple and effective); Manna descending for the Israelites in the wilderness; and the boy Isaac laden with wood for the burnt-offering, ascending the mountain. The scene of the rain of manna was a very varied and well imagined picture. There must have been, at least, two hundred persons on the stage; and to group these in an effective manner so as to avoid both confusion and monotony would have been no easy task for the professional director of a great theatre. Not to mention that the materials in the hand of the latter would be practised performers, well used to the business of the scene, and not peasants, artizans, and agricultural labourers. ness devoid of self-conscious mauvaise honte. One of us had witnessed a religious play many years ago, in Britany. But there it was defiled by detestable bucolic buffoonery and ribaldry. Here among these peasants of North Tyrol all was grave, simple, serious. The performance was marked by a startling and audacious realism; but a realism wholly devoid of irreverence. The washing of the disciples' feet by Jesus, the anointing of the Lord's head by Mary Magdalene, the crowing of the cock after St. Peter had denied his Master; all were rendered with matter-of-fact accuracy. To witness these things pourtrayed by persons without a profound faith in them-persons who did not literally believe in the truth of every detailwould have been intolerable. As it was, although many parts of the Passion-Play were intensely painful, it was impossible to feel either disgust or contempt. Disapproval we might and did feel. But the truth is, that the whole spectacle was invested with the moral dignity of sincerity. In the little pamphlet already alluded to, mention is made of the short, the very short, time at disposal for the preparation of so great an undertaking. From the end of March to the beginning of June. Two short months in which to prepare a drama that was to last through nearly the whole day, to employ three hundred performers, to contain upwards of twenty complex groups, and sixteen acts, to be accompanied by music and singing, and to be presented in appropriate costume, and with scenery and machinery! Add to this that the actors being all hard-working people could only assemble for instruction and rehearsal, on Sundays and holidays, and that in the first week of April no trace of the spacious solid wooden theatre had as yet appeared on the village green of Brixlegg. The writer of the pamphlet, whose childlike naïveté, and unaffected admiration for the great achievements have an old world freshness and simplicity that remind one of the tone of some of Shakespeare's characters, concludes thus solemnly: "Good will, and love, and the trust that honour would be done to the dear God, these were the mighty levers which heaved aside a mountain of difficulties, and brought the incredible to pass, truly to the honour of God and the wondering joy of men!" The actors looked forward with trembling anxiety to the day of the first performance. And although they had given proof of the most conscientious study, the most unwearying labour, and the purest zeal, yet they relied only upon the assistance of God. He will help us," they would exclaim readily and often. "He will help us. Otherwise all were in vain." It was in this spirit that the Brixlegg In the acted drama, the shortcomings of the Passion-Play was conducted from first to last. actors, their ignorance, their awkwardness, and The director, a priest named Winkler (to give their inexperience, were naturally most glaring him his due style and title, the Reverend Coand noticeable. But it was also in this portion operator Winkler of Brixlegg) must have gone of the performance that they gave proof of a through enormous labour in the drilling of his great amount of feeling, imitative faculty, and inexperienced flock. From time to time we, good taste arising from singleminded earnest-sitting in our balcony, caught a glimpse of the reverend gentleman standing at the "wing," book in hand, or moving about behind the scenes; active, earnest, evidently the life and soul of the whole. Evangelists have related it, the awful scene was presented, point for point, before our eyes. No particular was omitted. Throughout the whole drama, we discovered only one variaIn the concluding scenes of the drama no de- tion from the narrative of the New Testatail was spared. The insulting gibes, the brutal ment. This was the incident of St. Veronica, buffets, the crown of thorns, the cruel blood-attired as a noble Roman lady, meeting Jesus drinking lash, all were represented. One of on his way to Calvary and wiping his brow with the most powerfully affecting scenes, without her handkerchief, which forthwith received the being horrible, was the parting of the Virgin impression of the Divine face. This favourite Mary from her Son. Another pathetic point legend of the Romish Church was received was when the Lord, sinking under the cross on with manifest satisfaction. But it was the his way to Calvary, was met by women of Jeru- only instance in which any mere tradition of salem, with their little children, who knelt and the church was introduced. The descent from wept compassionately; and when he told them the Cross was one of the most extraordinary not to weep for him but for themselves and pieces of mimic show imaginable. The death their little ones, and uttered the heart-rending in every line and muscle of the drooping form, apostrophe, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that the pathetic helplessness with which the body killest the prophets and stonest them which hung in the white cloth they wrapped around are sent unto thee, how often would I have it to lower it to the ground, the placid stillness gathered thy children together, even as a hen of the colourless face lying thorn-crowned across gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye the knees of Mary Mother who received her son would not! Behold, your house is left unto at the foot of the cross, all were absolutely peryou desolate." fect. No artist ever conceived or painted a The last supper was a strikingly successful dead Christ with more absolute accuracy of embodiment of the great picture by Leonardo physical detail, or a more noble melancholy da Vinci. The crucifixion on Golgotha, was sweetness of spiritual expression, than we saw an extraordinary and harrowing spectacle. Con- presented bodily before our eyes in the Passionsider it! At this date of the world's history, Play at Brixlegg. And the man who achieved and after the flow of eighteen hundred years, this representation was a hard-handed tiller of that tragedy of tragedies is acted in mimic the soil. We saw him afterwards in his everyshow, upon a public stage, by men whose day garb, and spoke to him. He was changed forefathers in Herod's time were skin-clad and made coarser by the absence of the flowing savages, dimly afraid of distant mighty Rome, hair and beard he had assumed for the drama; as a fierce wild brute dimly fears the human but there were the dreamy soft eyes and the mind that wields the conquering whip! Now broad pure-looking brow. We asked him if he Rome, that distant Rome, sends no more were not tired. He had gone through a tiring glittering cohorts into Northern wilds. The task, even as a mere effort of physical entimes are changed. Instead of mailed centurion, stark and stern, there keeps watch a mild old gentleman in sombre simple garb, holding a book, and teaching little children—and yet ruling rugged men with a more absolute and searching tyranny than any ever used by laurelled Cæsar! A wailing mournful chorus preceded the scene of death. The band of angels appeared with black draperies, and the speaker solemnly conjured the spectators to remember that for them and for their sins this agony had fallen on the Sinless One. The curtain rose amid breathless silence, broken only by the horrible clink of hammers. The two thieves already appeared hanging aloft, each on his fatal tree. In the centre, men were busied about a prostrate form. Always sounded that horrible clink of hammers. A group of women shrouded their weeping faces, shuddering. Roman soldiers, lance in hand, kept back the many-coloured crowd. In the foreground stood the Jewish Priest, exultant and unrelenting. Slowly and noiselessly, men upreared the central cross until it stood erect, bearing a figure which appeared like some colossal medieval carving on a crucifix; so still was it, so wan, so ivory-pale, with its black crown of thorns and strip of snowy drapery, and the cruel crimson wounds in its hands and feet. Precisely as the durance. But there had been more in the performance than that. There had been evident emotion, chastened and subdued by unfaltering dignity. He answered in few words and in a faint and weary voice. He looked like one who had passed through severe mental suffering. This appearance, however, was, we felt convinced, the natural and unconscious expression of his face at all times. Of the other characters, the most remarkable was Judas. It is to be noted, moreover, that Judas was the only one of the performers who received any public mark of approbation. He was loudly applauded on several occasions, and greeted with cries of "bravo!" It is not difficult to account for Judas alone being so received. A sense of reverence and decorum would obviously check any such demonstration towards the more sacred personages of the drama. To Judas no devout veneration was due. He was no saint, no apostle; simply a bad traitorous man; greedy and false and violent. The actor pourtrayed these qualities with considerable vividness and skill. Him, therefore, as a mere human and earthly personage, we may venture to applaud! Judas's death was a highly startling exhibition. paroxysm of raving remorse, he rushed to a tree in the centre of the stage, drew a cord After a |