“Silent night, holy night; All is calm, all is bright”: from nativity plays and carol singers to shopping malls and advertising jingles, Silent Night – Stille Nacht in German – is the soundtrack to Christmas. There is something about the lullaby rhythm and that gentle, reassuring final cadence that captures the spirit of the season better than any other Yuletide song. Certainly, no other has been recorded as often, with versions by opera stars, Bing Crosby and even Jimi Hendrix. Yet, the world’s favourite carol is surrounded by myths. Some think it is a Tyrolean folk tune; others that it hails from Germany. Many remember something about mice and a guitar. In fact, it all began with a poem written in Austria 200 years ago.
To separate fact from fiction, my investigations focused on a string of small towns and villages in the tidy, green countryside around Salzburg. First up is Mariapfarr. With wide-open mountain views, this hamlet provided the first piece in the Silent Night jigsaw puzzle: a bust of Joseph Mohr on the Silent Night Fountain. “Mohr was our curate 200 years ago; he wrote the words to Stille Nacht,” local teacher Arnold Pritz told me.
In the 15th-century pilgrimage church, he pointed to a large nativity scene. “That painting probably inspired him. See the baby’s curly blond hair?” My bewilderment was obvious; the explanation was in Mohr’s original German. “Line four of verse one is 'Holder Knab im lockigen Haar’, the lovely boy with curly hair.” And sure enough, the chubby Christ Child is crowned with golden locks.
Next door, in the Silent Night Museum, treasures include a collection of 250-year-old nativity figures that Mohr would have arranged for Advent. But pride of place goes to a facsimile of the manuscript for a “Christmas Song”. Signed by Mohr and dated 1816, it is his poem. “That tallies with church records,” Pritz confirmed. “Mohr was here at that time; those verses are what we now call Silent Night.”
Forty miles further north and best known for its skiing is Wagrain – with another piece of the puzzle. This bustling market town was where Mohr taught in the local school and where he died. Having paid my respects at his grave, I entered the parish church. Opening up a hymnal, I found Number 803: Stille Nacht. It has six verses – twice as many as the English version. And the words in those additional German verses were important.
This part of Europe suffered during the Napoleonic Wars; even worse, 1816 was “the year without a summer”. Crops failed; famine spread. “ Silent Night was a morale booster, a poem about peace, faith, love and hope,” my guide in Wagrain reckoned. “And in German, verse four implies a brotherhood of nations, an important sentiment in that post-war era.”
So much for the words. What about the music? For that, we have to thank Franz Xaver Gruber, a multitasking organist, choirmaster and teacher. I came face to face with him – or, rather, his portrait – in Hallein, just south of Salzburg. Gruber’s former home, a low-ceilinged, 15th-century parish house, accommodates yet another Silent Night Museum. Visitors glance at the oil painting depicting a kindly face, with bushy sideboards, then line up for selfies in front of another piece of the jigsaw: a guitar. Not any old guitar, but Mohr’s 200-year-old guitar.
But what, I wondered, was the meaning of a single white glove, pinned to the museum wall? That was the clue to how a simple Austrian song evolved into a worldwide phenomenon. Two families of itinerant Tyrolean folk singers heard the tune and added it to their repertoires. The Strassers, who made gloves and sold them at Christmas markets across Europe, used Silent Night to boost sales at their stall. Like an early version of the von Trapp singers, the Rainer family travelled far and wide, performing the carol for the Tsar, the Kaiser and even Queen Victoria. In 1839, they sailed to New York; thanks to them, the Old World crowd-pleaser became equally popular in the New World.
But back to Gruber and Hallein, his home for some 30 years. I followed in the organist’s footsteps through medieval lanes to the main square, with its pink, ochre and lime-washed houses. A sociable chap, he would have chatted at the market that still draws shoppers on Saturdays, and then popped into the 16th-century Stadtkrug tavern, which still serves a fine brew today.
Next up was the most important piece in the jigsaw: Oberndorf. Just north of Salzburg, this historic town was where Mohr, the parish priest, and Gruber, the organist and choirmaster, became good friends. Legend has it that, on Christmas Eve 1818, they discovered that the St Nicholas church organ was not working; mice had munched through the bellows. Faced with having no music for Midnight Mass, the solution was simple. Mohr pulled out his poem; Gruber knocked off a melody; then, while Mohr strummed his guitar, the two sang Stille Nacht for the first time.
“All those tales of hungry mice are nonsense,” according to Rudi Pronold, a guide with the authoritative Silent Night Association. He pointed out that the guitar was a tavern instrument: “It would never have been played during Mass.” What makes more sense, he suggested, is that the song came after the service, when families gathered around the nativity scene. And, he explained, the domed Silent Night Chapel is relatively new: “The original church burnt down; this dates from 1937.” Today, Silent Night fans arrive during Advent to enjoy the snowy Christmas-card prettiness, the little Christmas market and, in the Silent Night Post Office, to have cards franked with the special Silent Night postmark. They order coffee and cake at Café Gruber, where the owner laughed at my suggestion that she was a relative: “No, we are different Grubers, but we do make Silent Night chocolates.” And very good they are, too, with a festive hint of orange.
My final stop was Arnsdorf, a farming hamlet two miles from Oberndorf. Here, Gruber played the organ in the tiny church and taught in the schoolhouse – Austria’s oldest – where little children still have lessons.
His rooms upstairs are another Silent Night Museum. “We like to think that Gruber wrote the melody sitting at this very desk,” Max Gurtner, the curator, told me. “In this historic spot, you can reach back to the past and also find meaning for the present.”
On Christmas Eve, past and present come together in Oberndorf, where the Silent Night Chapel’s 5pm candlelit service is streamed live over the internet. The outdoor ceremony ends simply; a bass, a tenor and a guitar recreate the original setting of Stille Nacht.
My tour of the Silent Night communities was complete – except for one thing. I had not actually heard the familiar melody. Not one note.
Translated into 300 languages and dialects, it is sung around the globe, yet it was absent in the museums and villages that I visited. And that is because in Austria, Stille Nacht is only played on Christmas Eve – never, ever before. When I admitted how often it was heard in the UK in the run-up to Christmas, Austrians were shocked. “For us, Silent Night is more than a carol. It has a special place in our hearts,” one local explained. “It is in our DNA. The first word I spoke was Mama. The next two were Stille and Nacht.”
Fred Holidays (0808 163 5880; fredholidays.co.uk/silent-night) offers five-night breaks from £719 per person (based on two sharing). The price includes return flights from Gatwick; six days’ car hire; b&b in four Silent Night villages, one night in Salzburg; and a Silent Night Card.
Stay: Panorama-hotel Zum Granitzl (granitzl.at), Mariapfarr, is modern and comfortable, with truly spectacular views. Doubles from €103 (£87), half-board.
Do: Silent Night walking tour (wagrain-kleinarl.at/en/winter/culture/silent-night.html).
Stay: Hotel Schattauer (schattauer.at) is central and family owned. Doubles from €121, with breakfast.
Eat: In Kleinarl, the Aichhorn restaurant (restaurant-aichhorn.at) offers fine modern Austrian cooking. Main dishes from €25.
Do: Silent Night Museum: Fri-Sun, 3-6pm; during Advent, noon-6pm (stillenachthallein.at).
Stay: Hotel Langwies (langwies.at), Bad Vigaun, five minutes south of Hallein. Doubles from €130, with breakfast.
Eat: In Bad Vigaun, Kellerbauer (kellerbauer.at) gives a modern twist to traditional dishes. Three-course menu: €49.
Oberndorf and Arnsdorf
Do: Silent Night Museum, Oberndorf: Thurs-Sun 10-4pm, in Advent, 9-6pm; chapel open daily (stillenacht-oberndorf.at); Christmas Eve streaming: stillenacht.info/en. Silent Night Museum (stillenachtarnsdorf.at), Arnsdorf: Sat, Sun 2-5pm, daily during Advent.
Stay: The stylish Gmachl (gmachl.com/en) in Elixhausen is Austria’s oldest family-run hotel. Doubles from €190, with breakfast.
Silent Night Land Salzburg Card
Valid for one month, this pass covers the five Silent Night museums: adults €5; children €2.50; salzburgerland.com/en.