The Klausenmann on the Kummer-see

In the Hinder Passeier lies the village of Moos, about which, on

account of the frequent accidents that there take place by people

falling over the adjacent precipice, the following saying is common in

the Tyrol: “At Moos even cats and vultures break their necks.”[5]

[5] Zu Moos zerschellen selbst die Katzen und Geier.

In 1401 a part of the mountain standing about a mile from the village

fell down into the valley, buried the farm called Erlhof under its

_débris_, and caused the water running through the valley to collect

and form a large “see,” or lake, which through its inundations created

so much _Kummer_ or grief in the valley that it received from the

inhabitants the name of “Kummer-See” (Lake of grief).

The legend goes that after the mountain by the will of God had been

cloven, and the Kummer-See formed by the power of the Evil One, a

“Klausenmann,” or sluiceman, was set there to look after the lake, and

warn the neighbours in time, were it impossible to let the water off.

But for this work a pious man was needed, whose prayers alone would

keep the swelling waters within bounds; for the devil used to bathe in

the lake, and made such a fearful noise that he could be heard even

as far down as Moos. The villagers made frequent pilgrimages for the

purpose of being preserved from the calamities caused by this dreaded

See; but as after a time they omitted this practice, the most fearful

inundations ensued, leaving everywhere behind them ruin and desolation.

The Klausenmann, too, became so corrupted that he forgot all his

religious duties, never went to church, and always worked on Sundays

and fête-days; so the Demon of Evil once more gained power and

there was another terrific inundation which transformed the whole

Passeier-Thal into a vast ocean, entered into the Etsch-Thal, and

destroyed a great part of the village of Meran. In this flood the

wicked Klausenmann perished, and after his death his wretched spirit

was consigned to wander about on the shores of the See, which has since

dried up, and in its place now stands a desolate swamp.

The modern traveller meets on his road round the former site of the

See, a rock called z’ Gsteig, upon which pious hands have erected a

chapel. There, as evening falls, fearful groans are often to be heard,

while the terrible shade of the Klausenmann rushes by the sacred spot.