Foreign Parts
The Oberammergau Passion Play

Foreign Parts.

[Notes by Mrs. Fanny E. Rieck.]

Munich, Bavaria, August 31st, 1900.

Who has not heard, even in far off Australia, of the “Passion Play,” held every ten years in the little village of Ober-Ammergau, in the Bavarian Alps? We had no intention, at first, of witnessing this performance, which we took to be neither religious service, nor artistic, but the mere rustic imitation of an execution—as such in ancient times, also in these parts of Europe many hundreds of years after the sufferings of our Saviour, have been, in fusilades—burning at stakes, beheading, hanging on ropes, etc., greedily witnessed by immense crowds of men, women and children of all classes and nations. Therefore, we had no intention to witness this Passion Play, where at present, from the beginning of May till the end of September, three times per week, 3000 and 4000 people—from all corners of the globe and of all sexes and social classes—are swarming. We were assured by so many friends who had seen it that the play was really very beautiful, interesting and highly instructive, that we decided to go partly for the reason that we could give a description of this far-famed play to the readers of the Examiner in our far-distant home, Australia.

Our last letter from Weilheim, shortly after our arrival from the Fraun Lake and Salzburg, via Tolz, described the immense rush of special trains via Munich from all directions of the compass, laden with—we can scarcely call them “pilgrims,” but better “curiosity mongers,” all on route to Oberammergau. We decided not to follow the beaten track with all the immense crowd; but left our last residence in Weilheim at 9 a.m. on August 14, and took train to Oberau, and thence walked via Ettal to Oberammergau in two hours. The way was a very good mountain track, amongst a very picturesque and constantly changing Alp scenery. The air was balmy and the sky quite clear.

In Ettal is a very rich Convent, which in these latter days was transferred out of the possession of the Count Pappenheim into the hands of the Benedictine Monks order, who in ancient times were the proprietors. This old, very rich and beautiful cloister is now renovated, and an enormous brewery and large inn are in full work, and is largely patronised. The beer is of excellent quality, and the cookery first-class and cheap; therefore, we did not hesitate to enjoy a hearty good dinner and a pot of beer after our stiff up-hill walk.

From Ettal to Ober Ammergau the wide excellent road was lined with visitors on foot, in carriages, on horses, asses, bicycles and automobiles, who had partly started before us and partly overtaken us, and were all ready for the play on the morrow. It appeared to us that three parts of the crowd were Americans, and never anywhere in Europe have we heard so much English spoken. In conversing we were, of course, informed that America is much superior to all these countries and games, as America was “the finest country in the world, sir, and Americans the smartest people therein.” But they are, especially in leaving this village of Oberammergau, a bit put out that the “simple Germans” are quite as cute in making money.

The first thing we did was to try to buy tickets for the play on the following day; but we found it was compulsory to lodge in the village of Oberammergau before one could get a ticket. The cheapest beds in this overcrowded village are 5s each. Thousands of people are quartered with the inhabitants of the town, who procure the required tickets for lodgers at from 2s to 10s per seat. The 2s seats get beds at 5s, but higher charges are for more expensive seats, and hereby as many as seven and eight persons are sometimes quartered in one room.

We hastened slowly, and gathered all kinds of information before investing our funds. We were fortunate enough to get two tickets for 2s each for front seats, and to procure lodgings for 1s per bed in a very clean farmer’s house two miles away at the neighbouring village of Under-Ammergau.

Beautiful Scenery.

We were struck with the beauty of the Ammergau Valley. It is filled with ideal rustic little villages. The inhabitants are cattle-breeders, dairymen, farmers, gardeners and sculptors—i.e., carvers in ivory, maple-wood, etc., mostly of crucifixes, madonnas, saints, etc. This latter occupation the forefathers of these people followed for many centuries, and therefore it is not surprising that the present generation has such a decided artistic tinge in their blood, which has evidently not prevented the growth of such smart business propensities which staggered even the sharp Yankees. Therefore, no poverty exists, and a great number of villa-like and very tasteful farmhouses are seen in this beautiful, fertile and healthful landscape at the foot of the snow-capped Alps, which can be reached by train from Munich in about three hours.

On the south side are wonderfully steep mountain ridges, covered to a great height with forests of pine, oak, elms, chestnut, beach, and other trees and bushes. To some of the grassy valleys—about 1000 feet above the valley—dairy cows are taken up in summer months to feed on the rich herbage, and there the dairy women (Sennerin) make the best butter and cheese. Here we heard once more the cheerful, tuneful sound of the Alpen cowboys’ call to his mates in the surrounding mountains, which sounds so musical as it echoes from hill to vale.

Close by the village of the Upper Ammergau is a most steep and lofty pinnacle a cone of some 600 feet high, standing almost alone, on which is erected an iron cross, and which can be seen many miles away. This is a favorite climb for the many tourists, who are waiting for the play. Others visit the many other charming villages at the foot of the Alps on the numerous lakes, on whose cosy green shores in various tastes the most manifold habitations of mankind are erected, and ornamented by gardens, parks, grottoes, arbours, bathing-houses, etc., intermixed with large hotels and beer-gardens of enormous extent, filled with crowds of gay, jolly, but decently behaved people of all classes and sexes and nations on seats before tables laden with eatables and big stone jars with bright pewter covers, typical for thirsty, happy Bavaria. Bands of music play, and plenty of electric white balloon-lights shine under the glorious old blossoming Linden trees, which seem to listen with mirth to the joyful chatter of the well-dressed, well-nourished, and well-behaved people, who collect here during the sultry season of the plains and the dust of big towns of the whole world, in the vicinity and the fresh air of these highlands.

One church in Ober Ammergau is very beautifully ornamented with carvings and pictures, and there are glass cases containing the relics of saints. One of them is called “St Amandus,” the bones of it being neatly covered with golden tinsel, jewels, feathers, artificial flowers, gauge nets, pearls, etc. Through this the skeleton is distinctly to be seen, the mouth containing one tooth still. The sight of this object of worship made us think of the “tooth of Buddha,” described in these columns in a former letter relating to our journey through Ceylon.

The Ober-Ammergau Passion play is performed in the great new edifice built specially for the expected influx of visitors this season. Previously the plays were acted in the open, and only on fine days could the acts be performed. But now an enormous hall is built to contain 4000 spectators, open towards the stage. The stage is under the open sky, while at the background of the stage is another large stage, or temple, for scenery, tableaux and plays, which is roofed. On the right hand of this, towards the stage-open temple, is the house of Pontius Pilate; also a street, showing in the distance part of old Jerusalem in its younger days, and on the left hand is the house of King Herod. We came up from our quarters in Unter-Ammergau at 7.30 a.m. and at 8 a.m. fully 4000 spectators were comfortably seated in the gigantic airy hall, and then promptly the play began.

The origin of the passion play commenced many hundred years ago in this village, when first only simple scenes out of the Old and New Testament were acted by the populace, almost all farmers and wood-carvers. By training and practice they became more and more perfect, and as public plays are only allowed to be held once in ten years, every succeeding season was improved till one can say: “now they act most wonderfully perfect, and all in harmony one with another.”

Only people born in Ober-Ammergau, and who have led good lives, are allowed to act in the passion plays, and they are trained from childhood. It is astonishing that all the actors bear a most striking likeness to the characters they perform. Anton Lang, who represents Jesus Christ, is most astonishingly like all pictures of Him. So also are the Apostles Peter, John and others, and especially Judas Iscariot. The character of Mary Magdalene was well performed by a young maiden of 19 years.

The story of the life of our Lord is recited and sung on the front stage, open to the sky, by 33 singers, called the “Schutz Geister” (Protective Spirits), men and women. The melodies are very simple and expressive, and most befitting these redeeming events in a raw and undeveloped age. Some very touching and highly artistic—especially for this play—composed solos, duetts, quartettes and choruses were sang. All performers were not only tastefully clad, but quite correctly, according to the time of the action—dressed in loose white robes reaching to the feet, and in long flowing toga mantles, with sandals on the feet. Men and women wore long flowing hair, some wearing bright, shining, brass rings around their heads. The legend of the play is most vividly illustrated by many tableaux of most exquisite beauty, showing scenes from the Old and New Testament. At one scene: the coming of Christ into Jerusalem on an ass, there were over 700 men, women and children acting on the stage. As we sat rather forward, we could see the action and hear the speech of the players well, and many of the latter, especially the oration of Pontius Pilate to the Chief Priests and the populace, was most impressive and beautiful, so also was the oration of Caiphas, the High Priest. The acting of Christ and Judas was perfect, and all went on quite harmoniously, simply and naturally, and entirely free from bombast, hypocrisy and ultra Romanism, and in the pure truth of our holy tradition.

Christ is fixed on the cross in a horizontal position on the ground and then raised. The scene does not look as dreadful as one would imagine, and only the pitiful lamentations, tears and shrieks of the women—Mary Magdalene and others—at the foot of the cross stirred the whole audience to tears. The play lasted from 8 a.m. till 5 p.m. with only an interval of an hour for dinner, and the pauses between the scenes were filled up by melodramatic chants and orations of the 33 “Schutz Geister.” We were not only satisfied and instructed, but highly delighted.

After the play there was a great rush to the Railway Station, en route to anywhere, except to the night quarters of crowded Ober-Ammergau, and in about an hour the closely packed streets were almost empty, and we pursued our way back to the next little village of Unter-Ammergau, supped and slept there. On the following day, beginning at the earliest morning hour, we made one of the prettiest walking tours we have done in Bavaria.

We returned to Ettal, and visited and looked carefully through the very ancient and rich convent, and then marched to the village and railway station Oberan, and took train to Partenkirchen. This latter is a very much frequented watering place, and is, like Ober-Ammergau, situated close to the northern side of the high mountains of the main Alp chain.

As the scenery is very charming, we took our walking sticks up again, and marched, via Klais and Krün, to Walgan, on the southernmost corner of the celebrated Walchen Lake, which is several hundred feet higher than the town of Munich. The latter is situated on a tableland at the foot of the Alps, about 2000 feet above the North Sea. At the village of Walgan we took night quarters, and all next day we walked along this widely romantic Walchen Lake, through lovely wood lands, and reached in the afternoon the hotel “Zum Zäger and See,” which is now a much visited palatial edifice, and which, when visited by my husband in his young days (34 years ago) was a simple, lonely, jolly country inn, patronised by wood cutters, forest labourers, hunters and a few strange wanderers.

From Walchensee, our road went over a hill, and then we had to descend a great depth down, along a formidable rushing waterfall, and then through lovely pleasure groves to the pretty largely visited watering place of Kochl, on the Kochl Sea. On the southern side of this lovely lake are high, steep mountain walls, and the northern side is the endless open plain of South Bavaria. Many steamers cross this lake, which is the summer resort of many rich German and foreign people, numbers of them possessing castles and villas on the hilly southern shores.

We reached the town of Kochl at 3 o’clock, just in time to catch the Isar valley railway train, and we went via Wolfartshausen back to friendly, homely old Munich.

Fanny E. Rieck.