A History of Carinthia

• Introduction
• Chapter 1 Prehistoric Carinthia: From the Stone Age to the Celts
• Chapter 2 Roman Occupation and the Province of Noricum
• Chapter 3 The Arrival of the Slavs and Early Medieval Settlement
• Chapter 4 The Establishment of the Duchy of Carinthia (976)
• Chapter 5 Carinthia under the Holy Roman Empire
• Chapter 6 The Spanheim Dynasty and Territorial Consolidation
• Chapter 7 The Habsburg Acquisition and Early Modern Administration
• Chapter 8 The Protestant Reformation and Counter-Reformation in Carinthia
• Chapter 9 The Thirty Years' War and Its Aftermath
• Chapter 10 Baroque Culture and the Jesuit Influence
• Chapter 11 Enlightenment Reforms under Maria Theresa and Joseph II
• Chapter 12 The Napoleonic Wars and the Formation of the Illyrian Provinces
• Chapter 13 Carinthia in the Austrian Empire: 1815‑1848
• Chapter 14 The Revolutions of 1848 and Carinthian National Awakening
• Chapter 15 Industrialization and Railway Expansion in the 19th Century
• Chapter 16 The Turn of the Century: Tourism and Alpine Identity
• Chapter 17 World War I and the Collapse of the Austro‑Hungarian Empire
• Chapter 18 The Carinthian Plebiscite of 1920 and Border Decisions
• Chapter 19 Interwar Period: Political Tensions and Economic Struggles
• Chapter 20 Anschluss and World War II: Occupation and Resistance
• Chapter 21 Post‑War Reconstruction and the Second Austrian Republic
• Chapter 22 Carinthia’s Role in the Cold War and Neutral Austria
• Chapter 23 Environmental Movements and the Protection of the Kärnten Lakes
• Chapter 24 Modern Carinthia: Economy, Culture, and European Integration
• Chapter 25 Contemporary Challenges and Future Prospects

Carinthia occupies a singular place in the tapestry of European history. Nestled in the southern reaches of modern Austria, bordered by the towering Karawanks and the Julian Alps, this land of deep valleys, glacial lakes, and ancient trade routes has served for millennia as a crossroads—between Latin and Slavic worlds, between Alpine and Mediterranean cultures, between empires that rose and fell across the continent. To write a history of Carinthia is to trace not merely the story of a single Austrian federal state, but to illuminate the broader currents of Central European civilization: migration, conquest, religious upheaval, industrialization, nationalism, and the slow, often painful construction of democratic identity in the modern era.

This book undertakes that task in full chronological sweep, beginning with the earliest traces of human habitation in the region's limestone caves and lakeside settlements during the Stone Age, and continuing through to the political, environmental, and economic challenges that define Carinthia at the dawn of the twenty-first century. Along the way, the narrative follows the Celts who forged the kingdom of Noricum, the Romans who absorbed it into their imperial system, and the Slavic Carantanians who arrived in the sixth century and whose linguistic and cultural legacy persists to this day in the Slovene-speaking minority communities of southern Carinthia. Each of these layers of settlement left an indelible mark on the landscape and the collective memory of the region.

The medieval and early modern chapters of this history are dominated by the ducal and later Habsburg periods, during which Carinthia was shaped by feudal governance, dynastic ambition, and the great confessional struggles of the Reformation and Counter-Reformation. The Spanheim dynasty, in particular, deserves attention for consolidating Carinthia's territorial identity at a time when the Holy Roman Empire was fragmenting into competing principalities. The arrival of Habsburg rule brought new administrative structures and, eventually, the sweeping reforms of Maria Theresa and Joseph II, whose Enlightenment-era policies reshaped everything from education to land tenure and set the stage for the revolutionary ferment of the nineteenth century.

The modern era brought Carinthia into the maelstrom of European nationalism, war, and ideological conflict. The collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire after the First World War posed an existential question: would the southern, Slovene-speaking portions of Carinthia join the new Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes, or remain within the rump Austrian republic? The plebiscite of 1920, one of the few democratic border referenda of the interwar period, settled the question in favor of Austria—but not without lasting tensions that reverberated through the decades of authoritarian rule, the catastrophe of the Anschluss and the Second World War, and the difficult reconstruction of the postwar years. Carinthia's experience under National Soviet occupation, its role in the founding of the Second Austrian Republic, and its position on the front line of Cold War neutrality all form essential chapters in understanding how this small Alpine region navigated the twentieth century's most destructive conflicts.

Throughout this narrative, certain themes recur with striking persistence. Geography is destiny in Carinthia more perhaps than in most places: the mountains that sheltered ancient peoples also isolated them; the lakes and passes that attracted traders also drew armies; the bilingual character of the population that enriched cultural life also fueled political strife. Religion, too, has been a constant thread—from the early Christianization of the Slavs, through the fierce battles between Protestant and Catholic, to the secular pluralism of the present day. And the tension between local identity and larger political frameworks—whether imperial, national, or European—has defined Carinthian politics from the duchy's founding in 976 to Austria's accession to the European Union.

This book is intended for the general reader as well as the specialist. It assumes no prior knowledge of Austrian or Central European history, though it does not shy away from complexity. Where the sources are contested—as they often are in a region where Slovene and German historiographical traditions have told the same events in very different ways—the text acknowledges competing interpretations and invites the reader to weigh the evidence. The goal is not to offer a definitive verdict on every dispute, but to present a coherent, well-researched, and readable account that does justice to the richness of Carinthia's past. In doing so, it aims to show that the history of this small Alpine land is, in miniature, the history of Europe itself: layered, contested, and endlessly fascinating.

The story of Carinthia begins not with written records or the rise of duchies, but with the slow, grinding passage of glaciers and the first tentative footsteps of human beings across a landscape still emerging from the grip of the Ice Age. Long before anyone thought to carve a border or name a province, the valleys and lake basins of what is now southern Austria were home to small bands of hunter-gatherers who left behind only the faintest traces of their existence—a flint tool here, a scatter of animal bones there, a handprint on a cave wall. These traces, painstakingly recovered and interpreted by generations of archaeologists, form the opening chapter of Carinthia's long and layered history. They reveal a region shaped by powerful geological forces, rich in natural resources, and positioned at the intersection of several distinct ecological and cultural zones. Understanding this deep past is essential not only for its own sake, but because the patterns established in prehistory—settlement along lakeshores, exploitation of mountain passes, the mixing of populations from different directions—would echo through the centuries to come.

The physical geography of Carinthia is, in many respects, the single most important factor in its history. The region is dominated by the Southern Limestone Alps, a chain of rugged mountains that includes the Carnic Alps along the Italian border, the Karawanks forming the frontier with Slovenia, and the Julian Alps to the southwest. Between these ranges lie the broad, fertile basins of the Klagenfurt and Lavanttal valleys, drained by the Drava and Lavant rivers respectively. The Drava, in particular, has served since time immemorial as a natural corridor of movement and communication, linking the eastern Alpine region with the Pannonian plain to the southeast. Scattered throughout the landscape are dozens of lakes—the Wörthersee, Ossiacher See, Millstätter See, and Faaker See among the largest—whose shores have attracted human settlement for thousands of years. The combination of sheltered valleys, abundant water, and access to both Alpine and Mediterranean zones made Carinthia a natural meeting point for peoples, goods, and ideas from a very early date.

The geological history of the region stretches back hundreds of millions of years, to a time when the area that would become Carinthia lay beneath a warm, shallow sea. The limestone that forms the backbone of the Northern Limestone Alps was deposited during the Mesozoic era, roughly 250 to 65 million years ago, from the accumulated shells and skeletons of marine organisms. The collision of the African and Eurasian tectonic plates during the Alpine orogeny, beginning around 65 million years ago, thrust these ancient seabeds upward into the mountain ranges we see today. The most recent major shaping of the landscape came during the Pleistocene epoch, commonly known as the Ice Age, when massive glaciers advanced and retreated across the region in several cycles. The last glacial maximum, around 20,000 years ago, saw ice sheets covering much of the higher ground, while the valleys were carved and scoured by the slow, irresistible movement of frozen water. As the glaciers retreated roughly 12,000 years ago, they left behind the characteristic U-shaped valleys, moraine ridges, and deep lake basins that define Carinthia's topography. Meltwater filled the depressions left by the ice, creating the lakes that would become focal points of human habitation.

The earliest evidence of human presence in Carinthia dates to the Upper Paleolithic period, roughly 40,000 to 10,000 years ago. During this era, small groups of anatomically modern humans—Homo sapiens—moved through the region in pursuit of game, following the seasonal migrations of reindeer, mammoth, and other large animals. Their presence is attested primarily by stone tools and the remains of hunting camps, many of which have been discovered in cave sites throughout the limestone regions of the eastern Alps. One of the most significant Paleolithic finds in the broader Carinthian area comes from the Repolusthöhle, a cave near the town of Griffen in the Lavanttal valley. Excavations at this site, first conducted in the late nineteenth century, yielded a remarkable assemblage of stone tools, bone implements, and animal remains dating to the Aurignacian and Gravettian cultures, spanning a period from roughly 40,000 to 25,000 years ago. The cave appears to have served as a seasonal hunting camp, occupied intermittently by small groups who came to exploit the rich game resources of the surrounding valleys.

The Paleolithic inhabitants of the Carinthian region lived in a world vastly different from the one we know today. Temperatures were significantly lower, and the vegetation was dominated by open steppe and tundra-like conditions, even in the valleys. The fauna included species adapted to cold climates: woolly rhinoceros, cave bears, mammoths, and large herds of reindeer and wild horses. The human groups that moved through this landscape were small—perhaps a few dozen individuals at most—and highly mobile, following the animals on which their survival depended. Their technology, while sophisticated by the standards of the time, was limited to stone, bone, and antler tools. Fire was known and used, and there is evidence of simple shelters constructed from animal hides stretched over frames of bone or wood. The social organization of these groups was likely egalitarian, with leadership based on skill and experience rather than inherited status. Life was precarious, and the archaeological record suggests that many of these early occupations were brief, with groups moving on as local resources were depleted.

The transition from the Upper Paleolithic to the Mesolithic period, beginning around 10,000 years ago, was driven by the dramatic climatic changes that marked the end of the last Ice Age. As temperatures rose and the glaciers retreated, the open steppe landscapes of the Paleolithic gave way to expanding forests of birch, pine, and later oak. The large herd animals that had been the primary prey of Paleolithic hunters moved northward or became extinct, replaced by forest-dwelling species such as red deer, roe deer, and wild boar. Human populations adapted to these new conditions by diversifying their subsistence strategies. The Mesolithic period in Carinthia is characterized by a shift toward broader-spectrum hunting and gathering, with increased exploitation of fish, shellfish, nuts, and plant foods. Stone tool technology became more refined, with the development of microliths—small, geometrically shaped blades that were hafted into wooden or bone handles to create composite tools such as arrows and knives.

Evidence of Mesolithic occupation in Carinthia is relatively sparse compared to the Paleolithic, in part because the expanding forests made the landscape less accessible and in part because the smaller, more dispersed populations of this period left fewer traces. Nevertheless, several important sites have been identified. Lakeshore settlements, in particular, appear to have been favored locations, offering access to fish and waterfowl as well as the resources of the surrounding forests. The shores of the Wörthersee and Ossiacher See have yielded scattered Mesolithic finds, suggesting that these areas were visited repeatedly over long periods. The shift toward more sedentary patterns of life, with certain locations being reoccupied seasonally, represents an important precursor to the fully settled agricultural communities that would emerge in the Neolithic period.

The Neolithic revolution—the transition from hunting and gathering to farming—was arguably the most transformative event in human history, and its effects were felt in Carinthia as they were across the rest of Europe. The shift began around 5500 BCE in the region, somewhat later than in the Near East and southeastern Europe, where agriculture had been established several millennia earlier. The spread of farming into Central Europe followed two main routes: along the Danube valley from the southeast, and through the Mediterranean coastal zones from the south. Carinthia, positioned at the intersection of these routes, received influences from both directions. The earliest Neolithic communities in the region are associated with the Linearbandkeramik (LBK) culture, named for the distinctive linear patterns impressed into their pottery. These communities practiced a mixed economy based on the cultivation of cereals—primarily emmer wheat and barley—and the keeping of domesticated animals, especially cattle, sheep, and pigs.

The arrival of agriculture brought profound changes to the Carinthian landscape and to the people who inhabited it. Forests were cleared to create fields and pasture, permanently altering the vegetation cover and, over time, the soil composition of the valleys. Settlements became more permanent, with timber-framed houses built in small villages along rivers and lakeshores. The population, while still small by modern standards, appears to have grown significantly, as the more reliable food supply of agriculture could support larger numbers of people than hunting and gathering. Social organization became more complex, with evidence of craft specialization, long-distance trade in prestige goods such as obsidian and copper, and the emergence of communal burial sites that suggest shared ritual practices and a growing sense of group identity.

The LBK culture in Carinthia is well documented at several key sites. One of the most important is the settlement at Keutschach, on the northern shore of the Wörthersee, where excavations have revealed the remains of several longhouses, storage pits, and a rich assemblage of pottery, stone tools, and animal bones. The longhouses, which could reach lengths of up to 40 meters, were the characteristic dwelling type of the LBK culture, housing extended family groups under a single roof. The orientation of these buildings—consistently aligned on a northwest-southeast axis—suggests a shared set of cosmological or practical principles that linked LBK communities across a vast area, from the Paris basin to the Carpathian plain. The pottery from Keutschach and other Carinthian LBK sites displays the fine craftsmanship and decorative sophistication that are hallmarks of the culture, with intricate incised patterns covering the surfaces of bowls, jars, and other vessels.

Following the initial LBK expansion, the Neolithic period in Carinthia saw the development of several regional cultural traditions. The Michelsberg culture, which emerged around 4400 BCE, is particularly well represented in the region. Michelsberg communities continued the agricultural practices of their LBK predecessors but developed distinct styles of pottery and burial customs. They also appear to have engaged in more extensive trade networks, with materials such as flint from distant sources and copper from the eastern Alps appearing in archaeological assemblages. The use of copper marks an important technological transition, as the Carinthian region—with its rich deposits of copper ore in the mountains around Arnoldstein and elsewhere—was at the forefront of early metallurgical development in the Alpine region. The smelting of copper and its alloying with tin to produce bronze would usher in the next great technological era, but even in this early phase, the availability of metal tools and ornaments began to transform both the economy and the social structure of Neolithic communities.

The Chalcolithic, or Copper Age, period in Carinthia—roughly 4500 to 2200 BCE—was a time of increasing social complexity and technological innovation. The exploitation of copper deposits in the eastern Alps intensified, and the metal began to be used not only for tools and weapons but also for ornamental objects that served as markers of status and wealth. The emergence of a copper-based economy had far-reaching consequences: it stimulated trade, encouraged the development of specialized mining and smelting communities, and contributed to the growth of social hierarchies, as control over the production and distribution of metal became a source of power. The famous "Ötzi the Iceman," discovered in 1991 in the Ötztal Alps just west of Carinthia, dates to around 3300 BCE and provides a vivid snapshot of Copper Age technology and lifestyle. Ötzi carried a copper-bladed axe, a flint dagger, and a bow with arrows, and his body was tattooed with lines and crosses that may have had therapeutic or ritual significance. While Ötzi was found outside Carinthia proper, his equipment and clothing are broadly consistent with what is known of Copper Age material culture in the eastern Alps, and his discovery has shed invaluable light on the period.

The Bronze Age, beginning around 2200 BCE in the Carinthian region, brought further advances in metallurgy, trade, and social organization. Bronze—an alloy of copper and tin—was harder and more durable than pure copper, and its widespread use for weapons, tools, and ornaments marked a significant technological leap. The Carinthian region, with its access to both copper and tin sources (the latter likely imported from the Erzgebirge or Cornwall via long-distance trade networks), was well positioned to benefit from the Bronze Age revolution. The period is characterized by the growth of fortified hilltop settlements, the development of elaborate burial practices—including the construction of large tumuli, or burial mounds, for high-status individuals—and the intensification of long-distance trade in metals, amber, salt, and other commodities.

The Urnfeld culture, which dominated the late Bronze Age in Carinthia from around 1300 to 750 BCE, is named for its distinctive burial practice of cremating the dead and placing their ashes in urns, which were then buried in flat graves or under small mounds. This shift from inhumation to cremation represents a significant change in funerary ritual, the reasons for which remain debated among scholars. The Urnfeld period saw the construction of several major hilltop settlements in the Carinthian region, including the important site on the Magdalensberg, which would later become a major Roman center. These hilltop settlements, often surrounded by substantial fortifications of stone and timber, suggest a society in which conflict and competition for resources were increasingly common. The accumulation of wealth in the form of bronze objects, the control of trade routes, and the emergence of a warrior elite all point to a growing stratification of society.

The late Bronze Age in Carinthia was also a period of significant cultural and economic exchange with neighboring regions. The salt mines of the eastern Alps, particularly those in the Salzkammergut to the north, were already being exploited on a significant scale, and salt—essential for food preservation and leather tanning—was a major trade commodity. The Drava river route connected the Carinthian region with the Pannonian plain and the Adriatic coast, facilitating the movement of goods and people over long distances. Amber from the Baltic, tin from distant sources, and bronze objects from the Alpine region all flowed through these networks, linking Carinthia to the broader European Bronze Age world. The wealth generated by this trade is reflected in the hoards of bronze objects—weapons, tools, jewelry, and ritual vessels—that have been discovered at numerous sites throughout the region.

The transition from the Bronze Age to the Iron Age, around 750 BCE, coincided with the emergence of the Celtic culture in the Carinthian region. The Celts, a diverse group of peoples sharing related languages, artistic traditions, and social structures, would dominate Central Europe for the next several centuries and leave an indelible mark on the region's identity. The arrival of Celtic culture in Carinthia was not a sudden event but a gradual process of cultural transformation, as local Bronze Age communities adopted new technologies, artistic styles, and social practices from their Celtic neighbors to the west and north. The Hallstatt culture, named after the famous salt-mining town in Upper Austria where it was first identified, represents the early phase of Celtic civilization in the eastern Alps, roughly 750 to 450 BCE. The later La Tène culture, named after a site on the shores of Lake Neuchâtel in Switzerland, represents the mature phase of Celtic civilization, from around 450 BCE until the Roman conquest.

The Celts brought with them a sophisticated iron-working technology that revolutionized agriculture, warfare, and daily life. Iron was more abundant than copper and tin, and iron tools and weapons were harder and more durable than their bronze equivalents. The adoption of iron technology allowed for the clearing of heavier soils, the construction of more substantial buildings, and the equipping of larger armies. The Celts also introduced new forms of social organization, based on a warrior aristocracy in which status was displayed through elaborate personal ornament, fine weapons, and lavish feasting. The La Tène art style, characterized by its flowing, curvilinear designs of stylized plants, animals, and abstract motifs, is one of the most distinctive and beautiful artistic traditions of the ancient world, and examples of La Tène metalwork have been found at numerous sites in the Carinthian region.

By the fourth and third centuries BCE, the Celtic communities of the eastern Alps had coalesced into a political entity known as the Kingdom of Noricum. The origins of this kingdom are obscure, but it appears to have been formed through the gradual unification of several smaller tribal groups under the leadership of a single ruling dynasty. The kingdom was centered on the Carinthian and Styrian regions, with its principal settlement on the Magdalensberg, a commanding hilltop overlooking the Drava valley near modern Klagenfurt. The Magdalensberg site, extensively excavated since the nineteenth century, has revealed the remains of a substantial Celtic settlement, including residential buildings, workshops, and a large public area that may have served as a meeting place or market. The settlement's strategic location, controlling access to the Drava valley and the surrounding mountain passes, made it a natural center of political and economic power.

The Kingdom of Noricum was not a centralized state in the modern sense, but rather a loose confederation of tribes united under a common ruler. The various tribal groups that made up the kingdom—the Ambisontes in the Lavanttal, the Breuni and Genauni in the Inntal, and others—retained a significant degree of local autonomy, while acknowledging the authority of the king in matters of war, diplomacy, and inter-tribal dispute resolution. The economy of Noricum was based primarily on agriculture, cattle-raising, and the mining of iron and copper. The kingdom's iron, in particular, was highly prized throughout the ancient world for its quality, and Noric iron was exported in significant quantities to the Mediterranean. The Roman historian Pliny the Elder, writing in the first century CE, noted the importance of Noric iron in the Roman economy, and archaeological evidence confirms that Noric metal products were traded over a wide area.

The political and economic sophistication of the Noric kingdom is attested by several lines of evidence. The kingdom minted its own coinage, modeled on Greek and Roman prototypes, which circulated widely in the region. The coins, typically struck in silver and bronze, bear a variety of designs, including stylized heads, horses, and abstract patterns, and provide valuable evidence for the political organization and cultural identity of the Noric Celts. The kingdom also maintained diplomatic relations with its neighbors, including the Roman Republic, with which it established formal treaties. According to the Greek historian Polybius, the Norici approached the Roman Senate around 170 BCE seeking assistance against an incursion by the Germanic Cimbri and Teutones, and a treaty of friendship was concluded. This diplomatic engagement suggests a level of political organization and international awareness that goes beyond what might be expected of a simple tribal confederation.

The relationship between Noricum and Rome grew closer over the course of the second and first centuries BCE, as Roman influence expanded northward through the conquest of the Italian peninsula and the establishment of provinces in southern Gaul and the Iberian peninsula. Roman merchants, drawn by the kingdom's mineral wealth and strategic position, established trading relationships with the Noric elite, and Roman goods—pottery, wine, and luxury items—began to appear in increasing quantities at Celtic sites throughout the region. The adoption of Roman material culture by the Noric aristocracy was not simply a matter of passive consumption; it was an active strategy by which local leaders enhanced their status and legitimacy by associating themselves with the power and prestige of Rome. This process of cultural assimilation, sometimes called "Romanization," would eventually culminate in the formal incorporation of Noricum into the Roman Empire.

The final decades of the Noric kingdom were marked by increasing political instability and external pressure. The migration of Germanic tribes—particularly the Cimbri and Teutones—through the eastern Alps in the late second century BCE disrupted the political order of the region and forced the Norici to seek Roman protection. The kingdom's last known ruler, Gaius Julius Civilis, led a revolt against Roman authority in 69 CE, during the chaotic Year of the Four Emperors, but the uprising was quickly suppressed. By this point, however, the distinction between Celtic and Roman identity in the region had already become thoroughly blurred. The population of what had been Noricum was, by the first century CE, a hybrid culture that combined Celtic, Roman, and indigenous elements in a distinctive regional synthesis. The formal annexation of Noricum as a Roman province, traditionally dated to the reign of Emperor Claudius around 15 BCE, was less a conquest than an administrative recognition of a process of integration that had been underway for generations.

The prehistoric and Celtic periods of Carinthia's history, spanning tens of thousands of years from the first Paleolithic hunters to the last days of the Noric kingdom, established the fundamental patterns that would shape the region's subsequent development. The geography of the landscape—its valleys, lakes, passes, and mineral resources—determined where people settled, how they made their living, and how they interacted with the wider world. The long sequence of cultural transformations—from Mesolithic foragers to Neolithic farmers, from Bronze Age metalworkers to Iron Age Celts—left behind a rich archaeological heritage that continues to yield new insights with each generation of excavation and research. And the position of Carinthia at the crossroads of Alpine, Mediterranean, and Danubian worlds ensured that the region would always be a place of encounter and exchange, where different peoples, languages, and traditions came together and mingled. These themes—geography as destiny, cultural layering, and the dynamics of crossroads societies—would persist long after the Celts had yielded to the Romans, and they remain essential to understanding the full sweep of Carinthian history.

The archaeological record of prehistoric Carinthia, while rich, is far from complete. Many sites remain unexcavated, and the interpretation of existing evidence is often complicated by the fragmentary nature of the material and the difficulty of reconstructing past lifeways from stone, bone, and metal alone. Nevertheless, the progress of archaeological research over the past century and a half has transformed our understanding of the region's deep past. From the pioneering excavations of the nineteenth century, when scholars first began to recognize the significance of the Magdalensberg and other key sites, to the sophisticated scientific techniques of modern archaeology—radiocarbon dating, isotope analysis, ancient DNA research, and remote sensing—each generation has added new layers of knowledge and new questions to be explored. The story of prehistoric Carinthia is, in this sense, still being written, and future discoveries will undoubtedly continue to reshape our understanding of how this remarkable region came to be.

What is already clear, however, is that the prehistoric and Celtic heritage of Carinthia is not merely a prologue to the "real" history that begins with the Romans. It is a history in its own right—long, complex, and full of human drama. The people who lived in the region's caves and lakeside settlements, who cleared its forests and planted its first crops, who mined its copper and forged its bronze, who built the hilltop fortresses of the Urnfeld period and the great settlement on the Magdalensberg—these were not anonymous primitives but men and women with their own aspirations, fears, and creative achievements. Their story, pieced together from the silent testimony of the archaeological record, deserves to be told on its own terms, as the first and in some ways the most remarkable chapter in the long history of Carinthia.