The legend of the Lake Constance monster and the water lily

A long, long time ago, the people living around Lake Constance told tales of a monster said to roam the area. For a time, particularly in the area where the town of Lindau was located – and still is today – some very strange things happened. At night, many residents claimed to have heard noises in the quiet alleys. They said it sounded like large, wet feet splashing around.

Many people in Lindau laughed it off, but not everyone did. Those who couldn't sleep at night had heard something, but they simply didn't dare open the shutters to see what was moving about in the dark alley. Many fishermen from Constance also reported incidents they had experienced at work. They spoke of sudden gusts of wind and whirlpools appearing at the most inopportune moments. Indeed, many a boat crew claimed to have narrowly escaped before their boat was dragged to the bottom of the lake.

Of course, there are always and at all times fearful people who want to believe everything they imagine when they pull their duvet over their heads, but eventually, it was no longer possible to pretend that everything was as it should be. More and more fishermen complained of empty and destroyed fish traps, and some returned from the lake with damaged boats and barges. They said that something had hit the hull with great force, causing bubbles to rise, but nothing had appeared.

Others crossed themselves and recounted how their nets had been badly torn when they tried to haul them in. One fisherman even went overboard when he refused to let go of the net, which was tugging so violently. His comrades rushed to his aid and hauled him back into the boat. 'Just in time', said one of them, 'before the huge claw that suddenly shot out of the water could grab the unfortunate man.' It was unclear whether the brave boatmen had really seen what they were reporting, or were spinning a yarn. The people by the lake were in an uproar.

Lindau's market, famous for its goods from near and far, was in some danger, as reports of a monster wreaking havoc on the lake – and even coming ashore – spread quickly, deterring even some otherwise fearless traders. They no longer considered the streets safe, and they had good reason to feel this way. Livestock were disappearing from the pastures and even from the stables. Fences were being torn down and gardens ravaged. At night, no one dared to go outside, as there was devastation and destruction all around the lake. In Lindau, the number of city guards was doubled after sunset, but despite their ceaseless patrols, no one saw the monster. Admittedly, at dawn, large damp patches could be found here and there in the alleys, especially at the harbour and along the shore, as if something had emerged from the water and moved around. But no one had actually seen anything.

Desperate for answers, the people turned to the learned and pious monks of the nearby monastery. The abbot promised to try to find a solution, as the abbey was affected by the situation, too. Fruits, wine and whatever else thrived in the gardens and fields tended and cultivated by the monks were popular goods at the Lindau market, providing a good income. Now, however, there was a danger that this trade, which was a source of refreshment for all sides, might come to a standstill. Consequently, the abbot and some of his brothers celebrated Mass and, in a solemn and beautiful ceremony, blessed the lake to drive out the evil within it. However well-intentioned the pious men of God may have been, the destruction did not cease. On one occasion, a leaky boat only just made it to the shore, and on another, a cart nearly overturned because the driver was startled by something splashing about in the twilight.

Brave young lads banded together to patrol the shoreline at night, waiting for the eerie creature to appear so they could put an end to it. Either they found nothing, or they ran back into town pale and shivering because they had heard it roar. They said it was a sound that seemed to come from the depths of hell. Many people had heard, at dawn, a terrible howl that sent shivers down their spine – a wailing and screaming that pierced them to the very core. Where strange things happen, certain people soon appear, and so self-styled magicians and healers from out of town did a roaring trade in amulets said to protect against evil, as well as other such trinkets. Many people spent their hard-earned money on little bags of dried herbs which, when hung around the necks of people and livestock, were supposed to ward off all evil. Those who wore one under their doublets did not speak of it, but many quacks left the town in those days with far heavier purses than usual.

Things would probably have continued this way until everyone left the land around the lake, had it not been for something very strange that happened one day. There was a little boy, perhaps ten years old, who was the son of a market trader from Lindau. The boy was destined to become a capable merchant and lend his father a helping hand, but his mind was set on entirely different things. Whenever he could, he would slip away to wander along the lakeshore, watching the birds or observing how the silvery fish created little rainbows as they leapt out of the water into the sunlight. He always carried a small reed flute with him and, despite knowing he would be punished, would sit by the water for hours, playing little tunes.

Like some other people in the town, the boy had heard the terrible screams at night. It was he who had said: 'The monster is looking for something. If we help it, perhaps it won't be so evil anymore.' As always when his son said something foolish, the father shook his head and sighed over his son, who showed no signs of becoming a capable merchant and was a good-for-nothing dreamer. But the shrewd boy kept his thoughts to himself and remained silent in the face of the reproach.

In the days that followed, the merchant's son seemed rather weary during his daily work, so much so that his mother feared he might fall ill. However, his exhaustion was probably due to the sleepless nights he had spent by the open window, as the little adventurer was keeping watch in his own way. And indeed, one night, shortly after the night watchman had called out the stroke of midnight, he heard a splash. He quickly left his room via the unusual but frequently used path down the fruit trellis, and hid behind the large pile of wood in front of the house. Then, he listened intently into the night, trying to pinpoint the direction from which the sound had come. As agile as a squirrel, the brave boy darted down the alleyway. Sure enough, in the moonlight, he could see large, damp patches on the ground. He held back a little; he didn't want to catch sight of the culprit just yet – that would come later. So the little boy from Lindau followed the tracks of the eerie nocturnal wanderer out of the town and a little way beyond. He made a mental note of where the trail disappeared into the water. Then, however, he returned home.

The next day, shortly before sunset, a little boy sat in the reeds at that very spot, playing sad tunes on his flute. In his place, a bundle of straw lay under the duvet at home, ready to withstand a cursory inspection of the room from the doorway. By the time the sun had completely set, the little piper's throat had grown quite dry, yet he played on undaunted and was rewarded. For several minutes now, he had been hearing a gurgling sound coming from the reeds. It sounded as though something was moving in the water, stealthily and trying not to attract attention. Still playing, the boy then slowly turned his head and saw ... the monster of the lake.

It had emerged more than halfway out of the water and bore a resemblance to a dragon, albeit a small one. The creature was probably as tall as two men, and just as broad. Grey-green scales covered its entire body, and fiery-red bony crests adorned its back. But what truly astonished the boy was that the monster held two human-like arms up to its broad face, which shook with sobs. 'Uhuugh, uhuugh, uhuugh', it sounded eerily across the lake and through the night.

The boy stopped playing and looked the creature in the eyes, whispering soothing words. With a grunt the monster stretched a claw towards the flute, then let out a deep, rough yet intelligible sound. 'Tr...treasure', it grumbled from its bearded maw, followed by another howl. Then it pointed awkwardly at the silvery fish leaping in the moonlight. At that, the boy finally understood that the monster was angry about the theft of its treasure: the glittering fish and shells from the lake. That was why it had been trying to destroy the people's boats and other equipment. That was the reason for all the trouble.

The boy sighed despondently, for the people depended on the lake's treasures and had no choice but to retrieve them. But a magical light pierced the sadness: the moon stood in all its beauty in the night sky, illuminating the two different creatures on the shore. There, the brave piper saw salvation floating in the water before him. Pointing excitedly at some beautiful water lilies that glowed almost magically in the night-time lake, he exclaimed: 'Look! There are wonderful treasures. They belong to you, all alone!'

The monster stared spellbound at the magically shimmering water lilies and let out a rumbling sound deep in his throat. That must have been a kind of laugh, thought the boy. 'My tr...treasures', growled the dragon, nudging the water lily floating closest to him and taking it carefully into his mouth. He turned his head towards the boy once more before disappearing into the lake with a few swift movements.

The brave and clever merchant's son was more tired than usual the following day, but he was also very pleased with himself. From that day on, all misfortune ceased and the monster of Lake Constance was never been seen or heard from again. However, nowhere else in the world can you find such magnificent water lilies as those in Lake Constance.

© 'The legend of the Lake Constance monster and the water lily' was told by Norbert Kieble from Lindau on Lake Constance. Put into words and illustrated by Winfried Brumma (Pressenet), translated by Izabel Comati, 05/2026.