The Heckthaler

Jörg von Rauhenstein was a drunkard and a gambler; he lived so long in the lap of luxury until the fortune he had inherited from his father was gone.

Without a coin in his pocket he moved to Vienna together with his wife and their child.

Ruefully he gave up his slovenly life; he found a job as armourer and soon the little family lived in modest prosperity.

But after a couple of years he succumbed to the temptation to drink and to roll the dices again.

Finally he lost his job and when his child got sick he even wasn’t able to pay a doctor.
The kid died; and soon after the child’s death his wife passed away due broken heart. – Both found their too early graves at St.Stephen’s cemetery.

But even their death couldn’t keep him away from his vice.

As beggar Jörg strolled through Vienna and asked for food and some coins.

One day he met the maid servant Burgl. She felt mercy with the poor guy and so she asked,
“Have you ever tried to find a Heckthaler?”

“What is a Heckthaler?” Jörg replied interested.

“It’s a very special coin,” the maid explained, “the one who owns a Heckthaler is never in financial need. This magical coin comes back to you every time you spend it.”

“What do I have to do to find such a coin?” Jörg inquired.

Burgl nodded to make clear she would give him the details,
“In a night to a Sunday at midnight you have to run around St. Stephen’s church three times. You have to start your run exactly with the first strike of the tower clock and the run has to be finished with the last, the twelfth strike. Then you’ll find a brand-new coin in your pocket – a Heckthaler.”

This sounded very inviting to Jörg and so he decided to try his luck.

*****

Saint Stephen's Cathedral and the graveyard, c.1720

Long before midnight Jörg arrived at the cemetery which surrounded St. Stephen’s church.

It was an eerie night. The wind purred around the spire and the pale moon light drew strange shadows on the ground.
But despite the scary situation the fellow remained at the grave yard.

When the clock struck a quarter to midnight he made himself ready for his run; he didn’t even want to miss a second of the time.

At twelve the wheels of the clock creaked and the first stroke of the clock echoed through the night.

At that moment Jörg started into his fateful run.

Frantically he ran between the graves and tried to find the shortest way.

Suddenly - the first round was almost completed - he saw the figure of his dead father with a sorrowful and even alerting expression on his face. But although he was scared he continued his running.

At the end of the second round he noticed his deceased wife beckoning him to stop.
But Jörg ignored her warning and started into the third round.

He still had the two visions on his mind when he stumbled upon a little grave. He fell.

At this moment two little arms reached out of the grave, grabbed him by his clothes and held him so tightly that he couldn’t move anymore.

He tried hard to break away – but all in vain.

As the clock struck the twelfth time the unregenerate lost his life on the grave of his child.

Copyright © 2011 Ingrid Prohaska


Special thanks to JRD Skinner and the Flash Pulp Crew for including the legend in their 'FlashCast 41 - My Arm Wound' !

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The Talking Fish

The oldest preserved graveyard in Vienna is a Jewish cemetery located in the 9th district. It was created in the 16th century and between 1540 and 1783 the main burial site for members of Vienna’s Jewish community.

At that graveyard you find a secluded fish sculpture made of limestone.
Of course there exists a legend about this sculpture.

*****

One day the Jew Simeon caught a big fat fish and was looking forward to the meal.

But at the kitchen table the fish lifted its head and cried out “Shema Yisrael”, those words one should say in the moment of death.

But it was too late, the head had been cut off and the fish died.

Quite surprised Simeon asked the Rabbi what to do. The Rabbi said it was probably a “Dybbuk”, a malicious possessing spirit believed to be the dislocated soul of a dead person and so the fish should be buried.

So did Simeon and placed a gravestone in the form of a fish.

Copyright © 2011 Ingrid Prohaska

Special thanks to JRD Skinner and the Flash Pulp Crew for putting the legend on their 'FlashCast 31 - Gone Fishin'' !

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Revenge of the Dead

Once there was a grave yard around Saint Stephen’s church; and there were some bone houses to keep the bones of the exhumed dead.

In the biggest of those bone houses burned an oil lamp day and night.

Once upon a time the sacristan of Saint Stephen’s visited a friend. They spent joyful hours together, they chatted and drank wine and so they forgot about the time.

So it came that it was already dark when the sacristan thought about to go home. His friend decided to go with him, because, well, the sacristan actually had drunk too much.

On their way they had to walk across the grave yard; and unfortunately a sudden gust blew out the candle of their lamp.

”Let’s go into the bone house to light up the candle again,” the sacristan suggested in his jolly mood.

”No, no, don’t do this. You know it’s a sin. You will disturb the dead,” his friend answered.

”Huh, what a coward you are!” the sacristan laughed, “Go home; go to bed where cowards belong to at such a time!”

The friend shrugged his shoulders and left in a huff.

The sacristan still laughing went into the bone house. It was deadly silent there. He lit his lamp, but careless as he was in his drunken state he extinguished the oil lamp of the bone house.

“You don’t need a light anyway,” he laughed, “you’re already dead!” and he started to move to the door.

Suddenly he heard a rumbling behind his back; and in the moment he turned around a big bone hit him on the chest. At the same time another bone smashed his lamp into pieces. Then a true shower of bones beat down on the sacristan.

The spook lasted till the clock stroke one. With his last power the man could leave the bone house, but as soon as he was outside he collapsed.

More dead than alive he was found in the next morning; and the same people also saw that the bones were scattered on the floor of the charnel house.

The sacristan couldn’t recover from that incident anymore; he got high fever and a few days later he deceased.

Copyright © 2011 Ingrid Prohaska

Special thanks to JRD Skinner and the Flash Pulp Crew for putting the legend on their FlashCast 018 - Happy Trails !
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