Thurgau

The canton of Thurgau, bordering on the Lake of Constance, is less

frequently visited by tourists than almost any other, because it

consists principally of arable land and thriving manufacturing towns.

It is not, however, without romantic interest; but most of its legends

are only slight variations of those already mentioned in connection

with other places.

In the days of Charlemagne a Thurgau giant named Kisher joined the

imperial forces, and went with them to fight against the Huns and

Avars. Such was the size and strength of this warrior that he waded

across every river, however deep, and when his horse hesitated to

follow him, dragged it after him by its tail, crying, “Comrade, you

must come along too!”

In presence of the enemy this mighty giant remained unmoved, and

placing himself at the head of the army, mowed down the foe as calmly

and steadily as if he were cutting hay in his native country. The

battle over, Kisher strung seven or eight of his victims on his lance,

and flinging it across his shoulder, tramped home as coolly as if

returning from a day’s hunt with his game. Such were his prowesses that

Charlemagne declared that, as he was a host in himself, his name should

be changed from Kisher to Einheer, which means an army.

* * * * *

IN going from Romanshorn to Constance, one passes the village of

Güttingen with its old castle. The lords of this place, equally noted

for their wealth and avarice, had several other castles, one of which

stood so near the lake that the waves constantly dashed against its

walls.

Once, when there was a great famine in the land, the starving people,

knowing their lords had great quantities of food stored away in their

granaries, surrounded the castle and began to clamour loudly for

grain. The lords of Güttingen, who were living on the fat of the land

themselves, would not give anything to the poor, and, weary of their

importunate cries, determined to get rid of them once for all.

They therefore bade their hungry vassals assemble in an empty old barn,

where they assured them their pangs would soon be stilled. The people,

thinking their masters were about to distribute food, thronged into

this place; but when it was full, almost to overflowing, the cruel

lords of Güttingen bade their servants close the doors and set fire to

the building. When the bright flames rose all around them, the poor

victims loudly begged for mercy; yet although their pitiful cries would

have touched any one else, the lords of Güttingen quietly sat there on

their steeds, and laughed aloud when one of them sarcastically cried,

“Just hear those mice squeak!”

Before long the roof fell in and the clamours ceased; but from the

smoking ruins suddenly came hosts of mice, which, running straight

to the Güttingen castles, devoured everything they could find. The

lords themselves, terrified at the sight of these pests, fled to their

Wasserburg, or Castle in the Water. But the mice pursued them there

too, and having disposed of everything else, pounced upon them. In a

few moments heaps of clean picked bones were all that was left of these

heartless lords, whose castle shortly afterwards sank into the lake.

There its ruins can be seen when the water is very low, and some people

claim you can still hear mice gnawing the bones of those cruel men if

you listen very attentively.[14]

[14] For similar legends of Bingen and others of this

section, see the author’s “Legends of the Rhine.”

* * * * *

A COUNT of Seeheim eloped with a maiden of Kyburg because her father

objected to their union. The lovers, dreading the Count of Kyburg’s

wrath, placed themselves immediately under the protection of the Abbot

of Reichenau, who promised to aid and watch over them, and pronounced

their nuptial benediction.

The bride, having a fortune of her own, soon built a castle near the

boundary of her father’s land, carefully providing it with strong walls

so that he could not molest her or her beloved spouse. For some time

after the two families lived on a war footing, but in course of time a

complete reconciliation took place.

In memory of this feud and of its happy termination, the town which

rose around the new castle received the name of Frauenfeld, and the

coat of arms of that city still bears the effigy of the faithful woman.

She is represented controlling a lion, which fierce animal is intended

to represent the race from which she sprang, and whose wrath she

successfully defied and subdued.