By Eben van Tonder and Austrian collaborator, 12.12.24
Introduction
Based on an Ethnographic description by Styrian poet, Peter Rosegger (1894)
As a professional in the field of meat science, I have long been fascinated by the deep roots of Europe’s meat curing traditions. These practices, fundamental to preserving and enhancing the flavor of meat, are as much a product of science as they are of culture. The Alps and surrounding regions of Central Europe—particularly Styria—have long been considered epicenters of these traditions. This land, shaped by its Bavarian and Alpine heritage, played a pivotal role in refining methods that influenced much of Europe’s curing culture.
The people of these regions were resourceful, living off their land while cultivating a lifestyle of self-sufficiency and communal solidarity. Their knowledge of meat preservation—whether through drying, salting, or smoking—allowed them to sustain themselves through harsh winters and isolation. Beyond its utility, meat became central to their festive customs, woven into the fabric of rural life and spiritual celebrations.
In A Forgotten Little Land (1894), Peter Rosegger, the renowned Styrian poet, provides an unparalleled ethnographic description of Jackel Land. While not overtly focused on meat preservation, his account captures the essence of a community whose simple yet sophisticated approach to food, farming, and cultural life offers critical insights into the roots of our craft. Rosegger’s text allows us to glimpse a land where tradition and necessity gave rise to practices that resonate to this day.
With this in mind, let us delve into Rosegger’s portrayal of Jackel Land, a forgotten corner of Styria where the rhythms of farm life, courtship rituals, and festive customs provide clues to understanding the origins of meat curing traditions in Europe.
A Forgotten Little Land
Rosegger opens with a wistful reflection on the growing demand for rural retreats. Modern civilization, he laments, has encroached even upon the most isolated Alpine valleys. However, “Saint Jacob’s Land”—or Jackel Land—remains a sanctuary of “originality,” though the floodgates of modernity are already opening.
Key Quote:
> “Ah, my forgotten little land! Whoever still wants to bathe a bit in the ‘dew of originality’ there should act quickly.”
The Land and Its People
Jackel Land, nestled between the Mürz Valley and the Wechsel mountains, is a tranquil, picturesque region. Streams rich in trout, scattered farms, and lush meadows dominate the landscape. Old wooden farmhouses, often with “a large crucifix in the open air”, contrast with new stately homes.
The people, sturdy and blonde, embody a distinct identity:
The Kathreiner: noble in dress.
The Rattner: fond of disputes.
The Fischbacher: known for brawling.
Rosegger paints a detailed ethnographic portrait of attire and habits, noting the layered skirts of women and the blue aprons worn by even young boys.
Quote:
> “On weekdays, they tie long blue aprons around themselves, a custom that even schoolboys follow.”
Cultural Customs and Work
Jackel Land remains tied to its Bavarian roots, with customs passed down for centuries. Flax cultivation is a hallmark, celebrated as both a labor and a festival. The winters are filled with storytelling and singing during spinning, yet superstition forbids spinning on Thursday nights, lest the flax weave shrouds for the dead.
The Jacklers’ diet reflects their self-sufficiency:
Staples: Milk, flour, legumes, potatoes, and linseed oil.
Festive Foods: “Nine cooked dishes” on Epiphany night, called the “Three Meals Night.”
Midnight Courtship Rituals
Courtship among the Jackler youth was structured yet lively, offering a unique social dynamic:
Window Visits (“Fensterln”): Young men would approach a girl’s window at night to engage in whispered conversations or flirtation. Friends often helped distract rivals or evade watchful fathers.
Alley Outings (“Gassenlaufen”): Youth would stroll together through the streets, pairing off to socialize and flirt. Singing and banter were common.
Group Rivalry: Young men formed alliances to assist each other in romantic pursuits and protect their interests. Rivalries between villages sometimes culminated in fights during church festivals.
Playful Pranks: Lighthearted mischief, like serenading or signaling affection, added charm to these nocturnal rituals.
These customs reflect a balance between discipline, modesty, and the joyful pursuit of romance.
Religious Life and Festivals
Religion is central to the Jacklers’ lives, fostering community and spiritual enrichment. Rosegger contrasts their “medieval devotion to God and veneration of saints” with the indifference found elsewhere. Festivals are grand, involving neighboring priests and generous meals.
Missionaries bring fervor, though not without tension. Practicality coexists with piety:
> “They have no qualms about deceiving the pastor… when it comes to an ox trade.”
Meat and Food Practices
The Jacklers’ relationship with meat reflects their agricultural and festive traditions:
Animal Husbandry: Sheep, pigs, and cattle were bred and fattened for sale and consumption.
Meat for Special Occasions: Sheep or pigs were slaughtered for festive meals, such as Epiphany, when lavish dishes were prepared.
Preservation Practices: In this isolated, self-sufficient land, surplus meat was likely preserved through drying, salting, or smoking, though Rosegger does not elaborate on specific curing methods.
Dietary Simplicity: Meat consumption was reserved for holidays or significant events, as the daily diet relied heavily on milk, legumes, potatoes, and linseed oil.
Rosegger also references external influences, like “American meat products” (Fleischextract), symbolizing the creeping industrialization even into this isolated community.
Economy and Work Ethic
The Jacklers are industrious and resourceful:
Skilled Craftsmen: Carpenters, blacksmiths, clockmakers, and more.
Seasonal Workers: Women travel to harvest in distant valleys, showcasing “diligent and tireless labor.”
Economic Simplicity: Wealth is modest, yet sufficient. A “thousand guilders” remains a symbol of abundance.
Cash is scarce, but bartering and self-sustaining farms maintain livelihoods.
Love and Social Bonds
Courtship customs are disciplined yet lively. Youth form tight-knit associations, aiding each other in feuds and nocturnal courtship rituals. Communal life fosters solidarity, humor, and resilience. Outsiders risk becoming targets of sharp wit.
Quote:
> “Many a city dweller, who preached wisdom to the Jacklers, has been delightfully mocked and eventually laughed out of the room.”
The Threat of Modernity
Rosegger’s final reflections turn melancholic. Surveyors and engineers threaten to introduce railways, symbolizing the intrusion of industrial modernity.
Quote:
> “They would love to let the steam horse graze on these green meadows.”
Language and Dialect
The Jackler dialect is unique, characterized by its “jackeling” pronunciation. Rosegger captures this charm with examples of local speech:
> “Nachtn dout gwen, Is scha schwout gwen…”
“Evening been there, Already late been… Have thus again had to go away empty-handed.”
This dialect reflects the isolation and cultural distinctiveness of Jackel Land.
Conclusion
Rosegger’s account immortalizes Jackel Land as a “forgotten little land,” where traditions, communal ties, and self-sufficiency endure—at least for now. His writing captures the tension between nostalgia for the past and the inevitable march of progress.
Summary of Themes
1. Rural Simplicity vs. Modernity: The tension between isolated life and encroaching civilization.
2. Communal Spirit: Shared labor, solidarity, and vibrant cultural traditions.
3. Self-Sufficiency: An economy built on farming, craftwork, and barter.
4. Religious Devotion: Piety and festivals as spiritual and social nourishment.
5. Cultural Identity: Unique customs, dialect, and Bavarian heritage.
6. Courtship Rituals: Window visits, group alliances, and playful traditions.
7. Meat Practices: Symbolic of celebration, self-reliance, and changing influences.
Rosegger’s lyrical language and vivid detail provide a rich, timeless glimpse into a disappearing way of life.
Complete Text
The WhatsApp message I received: “I have such an ethnographic description from my homeland, written by the famour Styrian poet Peter Rosegger in 1894.
A Forgotten Little Land
I always say that the world is becoming too cramped. Hermits have no peace anymore. Frequently, I receive inquiries from abroad about summer retreats. About natural retreats. The request goes as follows: I should recommend a corner in the Alps where one can find a clean room and nourishing food in a farmer’s house among simple, good-natured people. Additional conditions: no railways, no telegraphs, no post, no newspapers. A place safe from the English, Berliners, and—forgive the harsh word—even from Viennese. People desire only woodland and farming life and, by forgetting urban culture, wish to bathe body and soul for at least a few weeks in the dew of originality. This wish, a curious sign of the times, is growing louder and louder; could the poets’ hoped-for return to nature actually be beginning in earnest?
If only speculation does not seize upon this need and establish a colony for hermits! It is not so easy to rediscover the nature that was once exuberantly abandoned. In our Alps, there is no valley, however hidden, where the products of artifice—wine, brandy, American meat products, or cigars—have not already penetrated. No valley exists without a railway timetable glued to the wooden wall, a soda water poster, or where the “News World Gazette” does not weekly drag in enormous masses of culture. This is even the case in regions whose unfavorable location has thus far largely resisted the so-called “blessings” of civilization. But the floodgates are already open, and the deluge (not the Biblical flood) cannot be spared even these regions.
Ah, my forgotten little land! Whoever still wants to bathe a bit in the “dew of originality” there should act quickly. I hasten to capture a fleeting image of the land and its people before the waves of the world sweep over it. “Saint Jacob’s Land,” or “Jackel Land,” as it is called in popular parlance, lies in Styria between the Mürz Valley and the mountain range of the Wechsel. Its water is the clear, trout-rich Feistritz with its countless tributaries. When crossing the Wechsel, or the Pfaffen, or over the watershed from the Mürz Valley, everything suddenly changes. The mountains are lower, the forests more scattered, interspersed with fields everywhere.
Amid the fields, at the forest edges, often high up the mountain, lie the scattered farms. In the valleys, there are lush green meadows with streams and grain mills. The air is peaceful; no whistle of a locomotive, no factory chimney. The old farmhouses are poorly built, with kitchen, servants’ quarters, chicken coop, etc., often being just one single room. By contrast, the newly rising houses of modern design are stately, with their many rooms and windows, from which charming blond faces sometimes peek out—it is an event when a stranger passes by.
The farms are mostly extensive, built of wood, roofed with straw, and enclosed with wooden fences. At every farm stands a large crucifix in the open air, often artistically carved, though frequently featuring a “Christ” that only faith can protect from ridicule. On the vast, rockless mountain heights lie great forests, such as those at Teufelsstein, Fischbach Forest, Vorau Forest, Feistritz Forest, and Rabenwald. Alpine farming, except for the few areas on the Wechsel, is not practiced.
Otherwise, the region is well-populated and rich in clustered villages and beautiful churches. On a spur of the Wechsel, about four thousand feet high, lies the mountain village of St. Jakob im Walde, from which the Jakobsland derives its name. The inhabitants do not call themselves “Jacklers”; only people from neighboring areas use this name, as it does not carry much refinement, though it has grown venerable with age. They call themselves by their parish villages: the Rattners, the St. Jakobers, the Miesenbachers, etc. Almost every village has its peculiarities.
The Kathreiner wears noble attire; the Rattner enjoys disputing and litigating; the Wenigzeller is skilled in banter and quarreling; the Fischbacher is a notorious brawler, and so on. The people are sturdily built, of a fine, slender stature; most are blond. The men wear dark cloth in summer and garments of so-called Wilfling (a fabric of yarn and sheep’s wool) in winter. On weekdays, they tie long blue aprons around themselves, a custom that even schoolboys follow.
The women favor full skirts, and if one wishes to appear particularly beautiful (some do!), she wears three, five, or even more skirts layered over one another. Some villages have already been infected by the fashion imported from the Mürz Valley.
A unique trait of the Jacklers is their love of flax, which they cultivate extensively and, in autumn, during the flax breaking, turns into a communal folk festival. During winter, men and women spin flax deep into the night, passing the time by telling stories, posing riddles, and singing. However, on Thursdays, spinning is forbidden after supper; flax spun at such a time is believed to weave shrouds for the dead.
Their diet is simple, consisting mainly of milk, flour, legumes, potatoes, and linseed oil. Their household drink is fruit cider. In certain regions, pears are dried and ground into flour, which is then mixed with milk into a porridge called “Dalken.” Apples, plums, and cherries are also dried for cooking soups in winter.
Cattle are bred, fattened, and sold; for festive occasions, sheep or pigs are slaughtered. On holidays, the fare is lavish; it is said that on the evening of Epiphany, every household must consume nine different “cooked dishes” (porridge dishes). In earlier times, the Jacklers supposedly ate no fewer than three meals on this evening, which is why Epiphany night is still called the “Three Meals Night.”
The Jackler dialect is distinctive. If he explains that one must “douz ban Dedl iri and gleim ban Lus oaigain” on a certain path, a person from the Mürz Valley might struggle to understand that it means “through the small field gate, hard by the edge of the field.” The “o” is often pronounced as “ou,” a phenomenon called “jackeling.” :
Nachtn dout gwen, Is scha schwout gwen, Wa wul rout gwen Mei Staii ; ‘s Didl zuegwen, ‘ Rigerl fii gwen, Hon a sou wieda mian gaii “ . Uebersezt : Gestern Abends dort gewesen, ist schon spät gewesen, ist wohl überflüssig gewesen mein Stehen ; das Thürlein zugeweſen, das Rieglein vorgewesen, hab’ un= verrichteter Sache wieder müssen fortgehen. ” translation: “I was there yesterday evening, it was already late, I probably didn’t need to stand there; the door was closed, the bolt was locked, I had to leave again without having accomplished anything.”
Then he continues: “Evening been there,
Already late been,
Well unnecessary been my standing;
The gate closed been,
The latch forward been, Have thus again had to go away empty-handed.”
The population, whose way of life and customs are very reminiscent of the inhabitants of the Bohemian Forest, stems from the tribe of the Bavarians, who migrated here in the sixth and seventh centuries. They are thoroughly and naturally German. Having been settled here for a millennium, each individual has become so rooted that they do not stray far and are reluctant to allow anything foreign into the land. In the wilderness where today the little village of Mönichwald stands, the cell of the first German monk is said to have been located, who began converting the heathens. Later, the monasteries of Vorau and Pöllau continued the mission of culture.
The clergy remain firmly embedded in the life of the population; in many places, the pastor simultaneously holds the office of municipal chairman, caretaker of the poor, and local school board member. Thus, one can easily imagine the peace that reigns between church, school, and community. Overall, because the challenging opposition is absent, the clergy here are more liberal-minded than in the surrounding areas, where they feel compelled to guard their threatened domain with intolerance and strictness.
One significant advantage that distinguishes the Jackler from the rural population of other regions is that he is not indifferent. Just as elsewhere the farmer is indifferent toward religion and worship, so is he indifferent toward other ideals and intellectual matters. The Jackler, however, is not like this. Splendid festivals, which he enjoys celebrating in his stately village churches, with their radiance, their often dramatic form, and their medieval devotion to God and veneration of saints reminiscent of Tyrol, bring him joy, stimulate him, and provide nourishment and content for his spiritual life. A pastor who would fail to celebrate the anniversaries of the church patrons pompously, or who would not invite half a dozen neighboring priests for Mass and sermons (whom he then must serve a fine midday meal), would find himself at odds with his parishioners.
The area is often visited by fanatical missionaries, who stir up excitement for miles around. The local pastor is not always a friend of these soul hunters, but to avoid offending higher authorities, he must invite them. The costs of the mission are gladly covered by the parishioners with great enthusiasm.
No less than for their piety, the Jacklers are known for their business shrewdness, and they have no qualms about deceiving the pastor who moved them to tears with the word of God the previous day—unaffected in their religious feelings—when it comes to an ox trade. “If I won’t cheat my best friend,” says the Wenigzeller, “whom should I cheat? My enemy doesn’t trust me anyway.”
The so-called “minor holidays,” of which there are more than thirty in a year, are also conscientiously observed—mornings in church for sung Mass, afternoons in the tavern or at the bowling alley. Some servants work for themselves on these days, and if their employer needs them, he must pay them extra for it. In work, the Jackler is diligent; in enjoyment, moderate and deliberate.
Even in this region, there are rich and poor, though not in the worldly sense. Rich is the homeowner who owes nothing on his land and goods; rich is the carter with saved silver coins, or a maidservant whose chest holds flax and linen and perhaps a savings book with her harvest wages tucked beneath. Poor is the indebted smallholder, the dispossessed landowner, the incapacitated lodger. Yet no one perishes from deprivation there. The poor may be treated harshly but are still supported.
Almost everything the farmer needs comes from his farm; cash is scarce in the area, but its value is two or three times higher compared to prices in regions served by railways. “A thousand guilders!” With this, they express the utmost concept of wealth there.
A stranger, once by chance stranded in the area, will be surprised to find that a good night’s lodging with an excellent supper and breakfast at the inn costs no more than eighty kreuzers. On the other hand, when a Jackler takes the train, he is astonished by the high fares and reasons that the shorter the time a train takes to cover a distance, the cheaper it should be.
The inhabitants of the Feistritz area deliver poultry, eggs, and fruit to the Mürz Valley for very low prices, with the women carrying the goods barely earning twenty kreuzers for the day. Wood and coal also flow into this voracious and industrious valley, and skilled workers from Jackel Land earn their wages there. They are excellent craftsmen: masons, carpenters, shoemakers, tailors, blacksmiths, clockmakers, gunsmiths, bone turners, and more. Such workers from Jackel Land are highly valued in the Mürz Valley and beyond for their industriousness, quality work, and modest demands for food and accommodation.
Many maidservants who enter annual service at a farmer’s house during Christmas do so for a modest yearly wage of fifteen to twenty guilders, yet they insist on being allowed to pursue their own earnings for a few weeks in the summer when there is no pressing work at home. During these weeks, they head out for the harvest. With bundle and sickle, they wander in June to the lowlands or the Mur Valley, where the grain is already ripe, find plenty of work, and astonish everyone with their diligent and tireless labor. Cheerfully, they return home with their harvest wages and energetically resume tending the fields and gardens.
Rarely does one, enticed by love or other worldly attractions, stay in a foreign land; they prefer home, where they are part of their employer’s family, standing as equals with the maid and the farmhand.
A remarkable feature of this little land is the solidarity among neighbors. If one suffers misfortune, the others help sincerely, doing urgent work for him when he is ill, aiding with building materials, carpenters, and masons if fire or water destroys his house, and even providing provisions to help him recover. During specific communal tasks such as pruning twigs, breaking flax, or harvesting grain, they work together—today at this farm, tomorrow at that one—always in a sociable and cheerful manner. “One for all, all for one!”
Young men support each other in their pursuits. They form associations according to their villages, helping one another in feuds and love adventures. They assist and protect each other during “window visits” and “alley outings,” as the nocturnal courtship rituals are called. Ingeniously, they deceive the father of a desired girl, eliminate rivals, and engage in all sorts of pranks. Often, the youth groups of one parish form conspiracies against those of another parish, leading to bloody battles on church feast days.
Love life among the unmarried in Jackel Land is not as uninhibited as elsewhere; discipline is stricter, opportunities are fewer, and frivolity is less. The customs are generally more serious and sober, which does not diminish their zest for life—on the contrary, it enhances and keeps it fresh.
A friend of a healthy and wise people must feel at home and inspired in Jackel Land. When he sits among the farmers in the tavern (church inn) on a Sunday, he will not be bored; he will soon be drawn into the conversation. But the stranger should beware, lest he be the subject of sharp wit! The Jacklers possess a keen, witty humor often only understandable to locals. Many a city dweller, who preached wisdom to the Jacklers, has been delightfully mocked and eventually laughed out of the room.
Opportunism, party strife, world-weariness, and similar phenomena of our age have not yet taken root in Jackel Land. There, one finds people who do not complain about hard physical labor and whose joy does not leave them exhausted, people whose long lives flow quietly, rich in great toil and small sins. Thanks to their contentment, they are free masters, capable of ridiculing others bound by the chains of worldly greed.
Only the engineers, who have been surveying the land for years in every direction, are unsettling. They would love to let the steam horse graze on these green meadows.
….American meat products, ….. >>>> in original: …. das amerikanische Fleischextract (meat extract)