Vienna and a Strikingly Beautiful/Strange Cathedral… Great Rivers Series: Danube #1

I’ve put on some mood music for today’s post: The Beautiful Blue Danube by Johann Strauss. Appropriately, it’s being played by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. This is the river and its beauty. Its blue green tint is caused by the time of day and clouds. Like all rivers, it has a variety of ever changing moods.

We leave the Colorado River as it flows through the Grand Canyon today and travel 6000 miles to the second river in our Great River Series, Europe’s Danube River. Peggy and I, along with her brother John and his wife Frances, cruised down the river from Vienna to the Black Sea for nine days in late September/early October this year while adding another 7 days with a pre-tour of Vienna in the beginning and a post-tour of Transylvania at the end.

Polar opposites come to mind when comparing the two experiences. The Colorado combined the world class natural beauty of the Grand Canyon with the high adventure experience of floating through roaring rapids in small rafts. Accommodations are best described as roughing it. We slept on the ground in our two person tent, prepared our own food, and took care of bathroom chores on the groover— which was hopefully hidden from public view by bushes and rocks. Whatever bathing took place was in the ice cold river or or side streams with our clothes on— might as well wash both at once, right? Side trips normally involved climbing up the steep, possibly dangerous sides of the Grand Canyon to enjoy the beauty or leap 10 to 20 feet off cliffs into small, hopefully deep, pools of water. As for weather, think up close and personal.

The Danube has a beauty of its own but lacks the incredible scenery of the Grand Canyon. Our ‘raft’ was a brand new river boat holding around 100 people, where we ate four course meals served to us by friendly, attentive staff. (Peggy had won them over on the first day. When we entered the dining room we’d hear, “Hi Peggy,” coming from all sides.) We slept on a king-sized bed, had large windows looking out on the river, enjoyed a hot shower every night, and had a toilet that, um, actually looked and behaved like a toilet. Our side trips were usually into major Eastern European cities known for their culture and stunning architecture. It wasn’t quite ‘roughing it.’

The primary difference, however, was on focus. On the Colorado, it was the river, the surrounding natural beauty, and the adventure. On the Danube, it was on history and the cities that border the river. The Danube had once served as the boundary for Rome. In the centuries since the region, known as the Balkans, had seen continuing invasions including the Mongols out of Asia and the Ottoman Turks from Turkey.

World War I started in Bosnia when Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Austro-Hungarian Empire was assassinated by a Serbian nationalist. World War II ended with Russian tanks and troops rolling across the area and establishing the Communist Eastern Bloc nations. Ethnic rivalry, seen most recently in the bloody Kosovo conflict, has often been intense. The word Balkanization, which refers to a country or region breaking up into smaller, frequently hostile units as the result of ethnic, religious, or political differences, is actually based on what happened in the region.

We followed the Danube River traveling for about 1200 (1930 km) of its 1700 miles (2,730 km) in a southeast direction starting in Vienna and ending at the Black Sea. I’ll start this series in the classic city of Vienna. On today’s post, I am going to feature St. Stephan’s Cathedral which dominates Vienna’s skyline and is remarkably beautiful. And strange, in a medieval sort of way.

St. Stephan’s Church with its striking roof and its 446 feet (136 meters) tall south tower reaching for the sky. The roof is covered with some 230,000 glazed tiles. Note the birds flying between the tower and the roof. They had been disturbed by the ringing of the noon bell. It is said that Beethoven first realized how totally deaf he was when he saw the birds fly out of St. Stephan’s bell tower but couldn’t hear the bell ringing.
A front view of St.Stephan’s. The main entrance to the church is just below the overhang. It’s know as the Giant’s Door. The story behind the name is that the thighbone of a mammoth was found in 1443 while workers were digging the foundation for the North Tower and hung it over the door, where it apparently resided for decades. Did they see it as a unique decoration? Or maybe they thought of it as a message from God…
A view of the North Tower where the mastodon bone was found. Originally the tower was supposed to reach the height of the South Tower but the funding came to an end. It does, however house the Pummerin, or, as it is known locally, the Boomer, a 44,380 pound (20,130 kilogram) bell, which is the second largest swinging bell in Europe. The two eagles on the roof are the symbols of Austria and Vienna. Note the monument on the lower left…
The Capistran Chancel was once the main pulpit in St. Stephan’s. It’s named after St. John of Capistrano, a Franciscan, who is said to have preached a Holy Crusade from it against the Muslim Turks in the 1450s. It shows St. Francis tramping on a defeated Turk. From what I’ve read about St. Francis, that’s fake news. St. Francis was a man of peace who risked his life to establish peace between the Christians and Turks.

Also, I wouldn’t be surprised if you are thinking swallows when you hear Capistrano. And you’d be right. The Franciscans also named their early mission south of LA, California after the Saint, San Juan Capistrano. And that’s where the swallows return to each year. There is even a song about it. One final note: The door to the church’s catacombs is next to the monument. There are the skeletal remains of over 11,000 people in the catacombs. I wonder if the mammoth’s bone is there as well? Why not.
Most people think of beauty and vast size when they visit Europe’s great cathedrals. And yes, there is that. After checking out the beauty, however, I like to focus in on the details. I found this stone carving on the side of the church. Is it a bird; is it a plane (as they said about Superman)? No! It’s St. Francis, appearing as a bird carrying a tree. It’s much more like the usual portrayal of a good saint than his image of stomping Turks. He loved trees and was said to talk to animals. If you see an image of a saint from medieval times with animals, birds or trees, you can almost bet it will be St. Francis.
This is a photo of the inside of the Cathedral. It’s busy. I meant it to be. The number of statues and paintings of saints and important church personages was mind blowing. This is looking toward the high alter where a painting of St. Stephan is featured.
He’s being stoned. It would be hard to find a painting of the saint when he isn’t. Even Rembrandt painted one. Here’s the thing. Most people were illiterate in the Middle Ages and the church fathers wanted their parishioners to know their saints and understand the messages they carried. Like St. Francis and nature. And St. Stephan and stoning. A bit gruesome perhaps, but most martyred Christian saints are tied to their martyrdom.

There are several at St. Stephan’s including St. Sebastian with arrows sticking out, St. Barbara holding a castle tower and St. Catherine of Alexandria holding a spiked wheel. Their stories are all similar. Deep faith brings them into conflict with non-Christian authorities. They are tortured and God miraculously intervenes to save them. Finally, they are killed. Thus you have faith, suffering because of faith, the power of God to miraculously intervene, and ultimately their willingness to die because of their faith. I assume they are all pulled into heaven where they live happily ever after. A story with a happy ending…

The woman standing behind at least 10 other beings, including the weird angels/people peeking out from the clouds, is St. Barbara. Her daddy kept her hidden away in a castle until he discovered she had converted to Christianity. Then he took her to the local pagan priest who submitted her to various tortures, from which she would miraculously be cured by God each night. Finally out of frustration, Daddy chopped her head off. On the way home he was struck by lightning and burned to a crisp. There’s a message here. Anyway, the castle represents where she was held, the sword with which she died and the crown her martyrdom. BTW, because of the lightning, St. Barbara became the patron saint of artillerymen and miners— things that go boom.

I, for one, if I ever have need for a saint, will stick with St. Francis of Assisi, the man of peace and nature who died of a natural disease. I like a guy who can talk to an almond tree and it suddenly breaks out in blooms.

Here’s another symbol, Baby Jesus and his apple. It refers to him as the New Adam who will redeem humankind. I couldn’t help thinking, “Here Mom, your really should try this apple. Snake says it’s great.”
The church’s pulpit is quite impressive. it includes realistic stone sculptures of the Four Fathers of the Catholic Church: Augustine, Jerome, Ambrose, and Gregory. The pulpit is found in the central part of the church rather than in the front. In the era before microphones, this was necessary for the priest to be heard. Note the balustrade on the right…
It was covered with frogs and lizards biting each other, which, according to our guide, was to remind the priest/bishop/cardinal mounting the stairs of his many sins. A stone dog stood guard at the top of the steps to protect the speaker while he gave his sermon. Even then, it appears that dogs were considered man’s best friend. Cats, associated with women, were considered evil. Hmmm. An impressive organ can be seen beyond the stairs.
Every cathedral we visited on our journey down the Danube had one. Looking at this one, I was reminded of the first massive organ I ever saw. I was on an Episcopal Church related trip in the early 60s and we stopped off at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. At the time, Grace was one of the most progressive churches in America. It still is. My minister, Father Baskin, grinned at me and sat down at the keyboard. The sound was incredible, echoing throughout the church. He played an old ditty that I was familiar with, “The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms play pinnacle on your snout.” Father Baskin was one of the best men I have ever known. He was my kind of priest.
There were many other strange sights that caught my attention as I wandered around the church, including this knight with his codpiece, meant to protect his vitals during battle. They were quite the fashion statement of the time and kept getting longer and longer. And don’t you wonder how his helmet (on the left) could ever fit over his hair.
It’s time to move on, however. (Did I just hear, past time!) Next up is Vienna’s Summer Palace.

21 thoughts on “Vienna and a Strikingly Beautiful/Strange Cathedral… Great Rivers Series: Danube #1

  1. It is almost impossible to comprehend the beauty! I have a desire to learn more about Vienna. I have followed a few series on PBS SiSi: the Empress of Austria, a German series on Netflix Freud which is a lot of imagination but also fact and I have always loved the books by Frank Tallas. So happy to see your journeys! By the way…do you ever experience knee pain? It seems to be a new addition to my maintenance of program! Stay safe and full of good food!

  2. I have never seen the Blue Danube only ever the Grey Danube.
    The history of the Balkans is a mess and visitors need to be aware of ethnic differences that continue to this day. Once in a hotel in Croatia I mentioned that we were driving to Montenegro and the owner didn’t speak to us again.

  3. Curt, you’re right, the two river tours couldn’t be more different yet both equally beguiling and enthralling. My mind is spinning from your cathedral visit, so much to see and take in – and this is just from your photos! I had forgotten how much more ornate the European cathedrals seem to be compared to the ones in the U.K. A sensory overload in the best possible way. Wow! The Summer Palace looks immense – I look forward to learning all about it!

    • I suspect Catholic vs Anglican in terms of elaborate. The Catholics have a lot more saints to accommodate. Grin. Working on the Summer Palace photos and writing today. Hopefully, it will be up on Friday.

  4. This is quite remarkable. the detail of this cathedral is truly remarkable. Bring on the aqua blue so gorgeous, Curt. It’s always magical to be a passenger when you share your beautiful posts. xo 💓

  5. There’s so much to take in that even your posts can be overwhelming. I can only imagine what it must be like in person. I suspect it would take a hundred posts or more to do justice to this cathedral, particularly if its history, construction, and symbology were really given a close look. OK — make that 500 posts! I sure did enjoy this one.

    • I thought I replied to this, Linda, but it’s showing I didn’t. Sometimes I I forget to hit send before moving on. Old age? Grin. Anyway, one could spend days/weeks/months locating every detail and tracing down the history and symbology. I found it fascinating, however. I cut out at least half of what I photographed as it was.

    • They are packed full of things, some of which have little to do with religion, Dave. The artist who created the pulpit, for example, had himself looking out from below his creation. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a photo. One thing fascinates me, is how the objects in the cathedral reflect the medieval mine.

  6. Wow, that opening image is beyond stunning, Curt! I don’t think I’ve seen such extraordinary blues and greens! And the cathedral is amazing! I’m thrilled to travel vicariously with you all through another fascinating and entertaining post!

    • Kind hard on the Danube, Lauren, making it follow the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. But we did come up with a several beautiful photos along the way. I was really impressed with the cathedral. One could easily spend a couple of days in it finding interesting things— and then spend two weeks figuring out what they meant! Thanks.

Leave a reply to Crystal M. Trulove Cancel reply