Perhaps surprisingly, the Berghof in Vienna was once believed to be the very nucleus of the city. It stood as a testament to Vienna’s earliest beginnings. Let’s step back in time and explore the story of this ancient site.
The Berghof’s story begins in the wake of the Roman Empire. After the Romans left Vindobona, a remnant settlement emerged. At its heart was a building known as the Berghof. This name stuck from at least the 13th century onward.
The name “Berghof” suggests a farmstead. It may have been a vital economic center for wine production. Vineyards likely surrounded it.
Around 1280, Jans der Enikel mentioned the Berghof in his “Fürstenbuch”. This book referenced events from the 11th century. The “Fürstenbuch” claimed the area was still pagan at that time. This gives us a glimpse into the religious landscape of early Vienna.
The Kienmarkt, Vienna’s first medieval market, was situated between the Berghof and Ruprechtskirche. In the early Middle Ages, trade even occurred inside the church and sometimes in the cemetery. This paints a vivid picture of the bustling commerce.
Archaeological digs near the Berghof uncovered remnants of a Roman bath. These excavations occurred during the demolition of houses in Sterngasse in 1962. Several ashlars from this bath are now on display in Sterngasse. These stones offer tangible links to Vienna’s Roman past.
Early medieval settlement traces were seemingly found. But no construction older than the 13th century has been confirmed. The continuous settlement from Roman times to the early Middle Ages is debatable. Even in the 1960s, experts argued about the interpretation of single finds.
More recent research from 2016 casts doubt on the Berghof’s central role in Vienna’s origins. Earlier conclusions relied heavily on findings from excavations between 1962 and 1972. Herta Ladenbauer-Orel led these digs. The excavations were often construction site observations. This means layers were destroyed. Only fragments could be documented.
After Ladenbauer-Orel’s death in 2009, a re-evaluation of her records took place. The generally accepted “Berghof thesis” didn’t align with new research.
The area where Ladenbauer-Orel worked was considered a “settlement hotspot”. This put immense pressure on her. It made unbiased interpretation difficult.
The researcher Kieslinger opposed some interpretations. He argued that an opening Ladenbauer identified as a loophole was a late medieval window. His views were largely ignored at the time.
The newer evaluations revealed that earlier accounts relied heavily on Jans Enikel’s descriptions. These accounts seemed plausible at first. Disputes over parish rights influenced the narrative. The churches of St. Ruprecht, St. Peter, and Maria am Gestade were emphasized. This was to support the Schottenstift’s desire for parish rights.
New research suggests the previous accounts of early medieval Vienna don’t hold up. The Berghof’s story is complex. It has evolved with new archaeological evidence. While once considered the heart of Vienna, its role is now viewed with skepticism. Still, it remains an important landmark. It shows how our understanding of history can change. The Berghof serves as a reminder of Vienna’s long and fascinating past. It encourages us to question assumptions and delve deeper into the city’s story.