Melk is a town of about 5,300, located about 55 miles west of Vienna. It's situated near the confluence of the Melk River with the Danube and has a lengthy history. The Romans had a small fort called Namare at this spot, and there is evidence of human habitation even before this time, with Stone, Bronze and Iron Age artifacts having been found on a rocky promontory now located above the town. This promontory has played an important part (probably the important part) in the town's history, being home to the immense Melk Abbey, which has occupied the spot since 1089. While the town is a pleasant and historical place to spend some time, the abbey (known as Stift Melk to the locals) is the main attraction for visitors, not just of Melk, but of the entire surrounding area. The many attractees included us, who got there by taking an hour-long train ride from Vienna's Westbahnhof.


In addition to us and a number of Holy Roman Emperors, well-known visitors to the Melk Abbey have included Charlemagne, Napoleon Bonaparte (twice), Maria Theresa (three times) and the author Umberto Eco, who did research for his book The Name of the Rose in the abbey's library (and gave Melk a mention in the book). But the abbey wasn't always an abbey. At the time of Charlemagne's visit, in 791, it was a defensive fortification on a hill, and during the time of the Babenbergs it was upgraded to a castle and became their headquarters for about 100 years. It would also become the favorite burial place of the Babenbergs. In 1014 they decided that the presence of an actual saint would make the castle a suitable burial place. All the saints of old were already spoken for, so they opted for St. Coloman, an Irish pilgrim who had recently been martyred in Stockerau (in northeastern Austria), in 1012. The saint's remains were brought to Melk and buried in the castle church. Over the next hundred years, Coloman was joined by a succession of deceased Babenbergs. Then around 1040, the Babenbergs acquired a splinter of the true cross and had this sent to the castle as well, where it was encased in a jeweled gold container that came to be known as the Melk Cross. By 1089, Austria had expanded enough that Melk was no longer of value as a frontier fortification, and the presence of the saint and the Melk Cross led to a decision to transition the castle to fully religious purposes. This was accomplished when Leopold II turned the castle over to the Benedictine monks of Lambach Abbey, located about 80 miles to the west, who sent over a contingent to take possession. Benedictine monks have been present at the abbey, performing their monastic duties, from then to the present day.

Over the centuries the abbey has had its ups and downs, among them periods of poor harvests (the abbey's principal funding came from agriculture on lands that it owned), the transition from Babenberg rule to Habsburg rule, and a catastrophic fire in 1297 which forced the rebuilding of the abbey's church and library. But despite all their problems, the abbey rose to become the most culturally and spiritually influential abbey in the region, with its influence extending well beyond the boundaries of Austria. The Reformation, though, was not kind to the abbey. Protestantism proved to be attractive to many in Austria, and the monastic population dwindled until only a few monks remained. But the abbey was saved by an influx of new blood from southern Germany toward the end of the 16th Century.

In 1700, new Abbott Berthold Dietmayr proposed a renovation of the church and a sacristy, as the high chancel was in danger of collapsing. The project was approved for obvious reasons, and work began in 1701. Shortly after the start of work, in a sequence of events familiar to many who've had the experience of replacing a bathroom towel rack, someone said, "Maybe we can just rebuild the whole church!" There was a little more pushback on this proposal, but it was ultimately approved as well, with resulting increases to the cost and the schedule. Ten years later, in a pronouncement that may sound familiar to some of those who have dealt with contractors, someone said, "The new church is heavy baroque and doesn't match anything else! We're gonna have to redo the whole abbey complex!" As should probably be expected, there was considerable resistance to this idea, and formal complaints were lodged with both the emperor and the papal nuncio. But the plan was upheld by both parties, and work on the abbey continued until 1736, when the now elderly Abbott Dietmayr could anticipate the completion of the work. At this point there was another catastrophic fire, this one destroying the roofs and several rooms. Dietmayr groaned and authorized the necessary repairs, but did not live to see their completion. The repairs were not simple, but they were eventually completed, and the new church was consecrated in 1746. The abbey at this point was essentially the one that is seen today.

The abbey survived through World War I reasonably well, but it came through the war badly in need of renovation work. With the post-war economy being horrible, these renovations were financed through the sale of some of the abbey's cultural possessions, such as its Gutenberg Bible, which was sold in 1925 (it's now owned by Yale University's Beinecke Library). World War II brought additional challenges. After the Anschluss with Germany in 1938, most of the abbey was taken over by the state and used as a school. The monks, however, were allowed to continue practicing in a small corner of the abbey. The town of Melk was enlisted into the Nazi cause, with a subcamp of the Mauthausen concentration camp being installed there. Mauthausen and its subcamps were originally devoted mainly to political prisoners, who were systematically worked to death. As the war continued, the varieties of prisoners admitted to the camp increased, as did the varieties of methods by which they were exterminated. Toward the end of the war, the Melk subcamp held approximately 10,000 inmates, making it the fourth most populated subcamp. The site of the subcamp is now a museum (housed in the subcamp's former crematorium) and a barracks center for the Austrian Army.

The abbey has largely returned to its original monastic purposes, but a considerably larger source of funds has been added to its traditional sources of income (agriculture and logging), in the form of tickets sold to visiting tourists (like us).

Getting to the abbey from the train station took a little walking, but since the abbey is such a gigantic landmark, getting totally lost was not really possible. Heading toward the abbey from the station took us down into the town center, and signs posted there took us to a stairway that led up the hill, leading us to the abbey's main entrance, where 1716 statues of St. Leopold and St. Coloman welcome visitors.

Entering through the portal took us into a courtyard called the Gatekeeper's Courtyard. The ticket office is found in this courtyard, and to the far right one can see a white, cylindrical tower which is one of the few abbey structures that date back to the Babenberg version of the abbey. But straight ahead there is a large building with another portal leading through it. This is the outer wall of the actual abbey, and the doorway into it.

Passing through the doorway leads into another courtyard, surrounded by walls and windows and home to a smallish fountain. This is the Prelate's Courtyard. The dome of the abbey church can be seen protruding above the western face of this courtyard. Small modern frescoes can be seen at the top of all four surrounding walls of the courtyard. These frescoes were added between 1988 and 1990 by artist Peter Bischof and represent the four cardinal virtues (prudence, temperance, justice and fortitude). The fountain was brought in from another monastery in the early 19th Century to replace another fountain which had been given to the city of Melk during the 18th Century rebuild (this fountain is now in front of the town hall).



In the southwestern corner of the Prelate's Courtyard there is a small archway which leads to a walkway between the church (on the right) and some rooms on the left. We'll get to the church, but first we took a left turn to visit what were once called the Imperial Rooms, but which are now the exhibition rooms of the abbey's museum. The rooms are upstairs, and are reached via the Imperial Staircase.


There is a long corridor parallel to the museum rooms which features several portraits of the Austrian royal family. We weren't too interested in these, as we were more focused on the museum itself, but here's a portrait of Maria Theresa.

On display in the museum are many small objects, the most valuable of which is probably the 14th Century Melk Cross. The original Melk Cross was created in the 11th Century to hold a splinter of the true cross, as described above, and is not normally displayed. This version was commissioned by Duke Rudolph IV in 1362.

Here are some more of the objects displayed in the museum. The Coloman Monstrance was built to contain the lower jawbone of St. Coloman. Ulrich's Cup was originally fashioned from a squash peel and is thought to have been used by St. Ulrich in the 11th Century. The silver lining was added in the 14th Century.


More items were found in a room with mirrored walls:



There are also vestments on display:


Another room is devoted to the Breu Altar, a winged altarpiece with sixteen panels (eight on the front, eight on the back), created in 1502 by Jörg Breu the Elder. Here are some of the panels:


Leaving the museum, the visitor route leads to a large, thoroughly baroque room called the Marble Hall. It was used for festive occasions, particularly those involving the Imperial court. I'm not sure if they rent it out (e.g. weddings, graduations, frat parties, bar mitzvahs; well, probably not bar mitzvahs), but it would certainly be a cool place for a party. The name of the room is something of an exaggeration – the only real marble is around the entrance and exit doors; anything else that looks like marble is simulated. The allegorical ceiling fresco was done by Paul Troger in 1731 and has a lot going on.



From the Marble Hall we were routed to a terrace, from which there were splendid views of Melk and the valley in which it's situated, and of the façade of the abbey church.



Following the terrace, we were routed back indoors, into the abbey library. The library is also amazing to look at, and houses many thousands of invaluable volumes, but unfortunately photography was not allowed in the library. Here's a public domain picture off the Internet:

From the library a stairway led us down into the main attraction, the abbey church. The church can only be described as over-the-top baroque, with a special emphasis on gold.

Looking at some of the common elements of Catholic churches, we began by looking at the main altar, which is anything but common. The altar was designed by Giuseppe Galli Bibiena, and is quite complex, being covered with life-sized figures of saints, prophets and angels, surrounding an immense crown of victory. This is mostly done in gilded wood, but there is also marble (which is not simulated).


At either end of the transept there are two large altars, devoted to St. Benedict (this being a Benedictine abbey) and St. Coloman (this being the Melk abbey). Both altars have sarcophagi, but the one in the St. Benedict altar is empty (Benedict is buried in Italy). The St. Coloman sarcophagus, however, contains the venerated remains of the saint himself.


The dome, situated above the intersection of nave and transept, contains a fresco (by Johann Michael Rottmayr) that is crowded with figures which are difficult to pick out from ground level. Apparently there are the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, plus Mary, the apostles, a host of saints and even a heavenly version of Jerusalem. And this doesn't even include the ceiling figures that surround the dome.

The fresco above the nave, also by Rottmayr, is a multi-paneled depiction of the ascension of St. Benedict to heaven.

Returning to ground level (almost), the pulpit, also designed by Galli Bibiena, apparently depicts the casting of demons of unbelief into the depths (of Hell, no doubt).

In the back of the church there is an organ that was built in 1970. It has three keyboards, 45 stops and 3553 pipes. It's up in the choir, and underneath the choir there is yet another fresco.


Along the sides of the nave, as in many Catholic churches, there are side chapels, and above the chapels there are several balconies.


There are only six side chapels (three on each side), but they are well worth a look. Two of them feature lavishly bejeweled skeletons, both of them anonymous "catacomb saints" (from under the Stephansdom in Vienna?). But they have been given names by the monks of Stift Melk – the skeleton of St. John the Baptist's altar has been called "Friedrich", and the skeleton of St. Michael's altar has received the name "Clemens". Both were gifts (something special for the abbott who has everything?) – Clemens came from the Viennese nuncio in 1722, and Friedrich was donated by Maria Theresa in 1762.



Having seen enough of the church, this concluded our visit to the Abbey of Melk, and we returned back down the stairs up which we had come. We found a late lunch in town, and we returned to the train station for our trip back to Vienna.


On returning to our hotel, we took some time to rest and to begin packing. This was to be our last evening in Vienna. Maybe we should have commemorated the evening by eating something distinctly Viennese, but we weren't that ambitious, ending up at McDonald's instead. But we did take the time to walk around among some of Vienna's landmarks one last time (until our next visit!).



We returned to our hotel on Tiefer Graben, noting the Wipplingerstrasse overpass which had confused our taxi driver on our arrival (on a map, it looks like an intersection).

We packed what we could and went to bed in anticipation of the journey we would be taking the following day. Another day, another country (or another two countries, as it would turn out). Our plan? Zürich, Switzerland.