Vienna Legends and Myths: Basilisks, Plague Pits and Strange Tricks

I love places with stories, and Vienna has plenty of them. You look at an old building and discover that even its façade has a tale to tell. You pass a fountain or a narrow alley and find a legend waiting to be told. And I am all ears.

Make yourself comfortable and imagine you are here. And if you are already sitting in a Viennese Kaffeehaus with a Verlängerter in front of you, even better.

Here are three Vienna legends and myths that have become part of the city’s soul.

Lieber Augustin

Most Viennese know him as Lieber Augustin, or Dear Augustin. The legendary figure is usually identified as Marx Augustin, a ballad singer and bagpiper who entertained people in Vienna’s streets and taverns.

During the Great Plague of 1679, fear had taken over the city. Augustin, however, kept singing and making people laugh. That is said to be how he earned the affectionate nickname Lieber Augustin – because he could still bring a smile to people’s faces during one of Vienna’s darkest times.

There was one thing Augustin supposedly loved almost as much as music: wine.

One evening, he drank a little more than usual. On his way home, he fell asleep in the street. Unfortunately for him, this happened during the plague epidemic, when carts collected the dead every day.

The men who found him assumed he was another victim. They placed him on a cart and carried him outside the city walls, where the bodies were thrown into a large plague pit known as a Pestgrube.

The next morning, Augustin woke up.

Confused and surrounded by silence, he slowly realized where he was.

“Help! I’m still alive!” he shouted.

There was no answer.

He called again, louder this time, until someone finally heard his voice. Augustin was pulled out of the pit and brought back to the city.

Despite spending the entire night among the bodies of plague victims, he never became ill. Was it pure luck, too much wine, or a story that grew with every retelling? Nobody really knows.

The song “O du lieber Augustin” appeared in written sources toward the end of the 18th century. It was later connected with Vienna’s legendary plague survivor, although there is no evidence that Augustin wrote it himself.

Like the man at the center of the tale, the song became part of Vienna’s folklore.

The legend still lives on through the Augustinbrunnen and Augustinplatz, both located in Vienna’s 7th district.

While preparing this story, I went to Augustinplatz to take a few photos of our Dear Augustin. But he was nowhere to be found. It seems he has once again ended up somewhere he is not supposed to be.

This time, however, there is a less dramatic explanation. The Augustin statue was removed because of construction work for Vienna’s U2 extension. For now, a construction site stands in its place.

The Legend of the Basilisk

Imagine walking through Vienna’s narrow medieval streets hundreds of years ago. The sun has disappeared behind the rooftops, the street is quiet, and nobody dares to approach a small well in Schönlaterngasse.

A terrifying creature is said to live inside.

The basilisk has the head of a rooster, the body of a serpent, and a deadly stare. Anyone who looks directly into its eyes dies instantly. Even its breath is poisonous.

The well is soon abandoned. Parents warn their children to stay away, while neighbors whisper about the monster living beneath Vienna’s streets.

Nobody knows how to defeat it.

Then someone suggests an unusual solution. Instead of fighting the basilisk with a sword, they should use a mirror. If the creature looks at its own reflection, its deadly power will turn against it.

A young baker’s apprentice volunteers to carry out the plan.

Holding a mirror in front of him, he carefully approaches the well and slowly lowers it inside. The basilisk looks up and catches sight of its own reflection. Its power turns against it, and the creature is destroyed.

On the left, Schönlaterngasse in Vienna’s historic center; on the right, the basilisk and baker’s apprentice on the façade of the Basiliskenhaus.

The people of Vienna can finally approach the well without fear.

The young apprentice receives more than the gratitude of the neighborhood. As a reward for his courage, the baker allows him to marry his daughter.

The basilisk and an inscription recounting the old tale still decorate the façade of the Basiliskenhaus at Schönlaterngasse 7.

It is easy to walk past without noticing it, so remember to look up.

The Legend of the Hannaken King

Just a few steps from Maria am Gestade, one of Vienna’s oldest churches, stands a small fountain that most visitors walk right past.

Centuries ago, this area was home to an inn called “Zum Wolf in der Au” – The Wolf by the Riverside.

Among the people who worked there was a Bader, a historical occupation combining the work of a barber, surgeon, and healer. He was known as the Hannaken King, or King of the Hanaks, a nickname referring to his supposed origins in the Haná region of present-day Czechia.

Business, however, was not always good enough.

The Hannaken King came up with a rather dishonest way of finding new patients. Under the cover of darkness, he would place a wooden log in front of people leaving the tavern.

Most of them had enjoyed a little too much wine. They stumbled over the log, fell, and injured themselves.

The Hannaken King would appear almost immediately.

“You’re hurt,” he would say. “Come with me. I can help.”

Of course, the treatment was not free.

The trick worked for quite some time. Then, one winter evening, a passerby tripped over the log but was not seriously injured.

Instead of accepting the barber’s help, he picked up the log. He noticed that it looked exactly like the firewood stacked beside the Hannaken King’s fireplace.

The scam was exposed, and his profitable little business came to an end.

The tale is also associated with the German expression “jemandem einen Prügel vor die Füße werfen.” It literally means “to throw a log in front of someone’s feet” and is used when someone deliberately creates obstacles or makes another person’s life more difficult.

The Hannaken King’s story lives on in the Hannakenbrunnen on Concordiaplatz, just below the steps leading to Maria am Gestade.

Maria am Gestade – Mary on the Riverbank

The name Maria am Gestade can be translated as “Mary on the Riverbank.”

It may sound strange today, but when the church was built, this part of Vienna stood beside a branch of the Danube. The church was traditionally used by fishermen and boatmen.

The riverbank has disappeared, but the church’s name still remembers the Vienna that once existed here.

Explore Vienna’s Old Town with a Guide

Looking for more unusual details around the city? Continue with my Vienna lion hunt, or use my complete Vienna travel guide to plan the rest of your visit.

Many of Vienna’s old streets have stories that are easy to miss when you explore them alone. A local guide can introduce you to more legends, unusual details, and places connected with the city’s past.

Browse Vienna Old Town walking tours on GetYourGuide or compare Vienna history and walking tours on Viator to find a tour that fits your plans.