The Devil in a Munich church

Annam Suresh 

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Once upon a time, a town in Germany decided to rebuild the local church after it had been destroyed several times in a few centuries. The best architect of the town — Jörg von Halsbach — was hired and work began in 1468. But the town was cash-strapped and could not offer sufficient money for this project. The architect was asked to work on a tight budget. He agreed. His first step at cost-cutting was to use bricks instead of the more usual stones, since granite was not locally available.

Despite thrift, by 1479, he had run out of money. He went around trying to raise money to complete the construction. Neither the church, the citizens, nor the town administration could offer him the funds to finish construction.

Frustrated and desperate, the architect now had only one option — Divine help. 

So he prayed very hard.

Help he got, but not divine.

In an unexpected and curious turn of events, the Devil, Lucifer himself, offered the architect funds to finish his dream project. The architect was relieved. But there was a catch. Satan’s offer came with a condition. The church was to have no windows, no inlet for any light, so could carry on his dark celebrations. Halsbach was obsessed with completing the magnificent task assigned to him and had no other source of funding. Satan’s offer was his only hope. The architect agreed.

The construction was completed in 20 years, the altar consecrated. Hearing of this, the Prince of Darkness couldn’t wait to see the church that he had funded. 

He asked the architect to show him the cathedral. The architect invited his benefactor to the church. Satan stormed excitedly into the church riding a powerful cold wind.

He was delighted with the Cathedral — not a single window could he see. Despite the magnificent altar of Our Lady, the cathedral seemed perfect for the Prince of Darkness to celebrate the power of his dark forces.

All excited, he turned to leave in a joyous flourish, when a flash of light caught the corner of his eyes. As he turned around, he felt a cold wind swirl around the chapel, sending a shiver down his back. He realised that the architect had conned him though from where he stood he could not see a single window. He went around looking for the source of light. The architect had hidden a huge window behind the strategically placed beautiful large altar. This was where the ray of light had come from. In addition, the long row of 11 pillars, along either side of the long hall, hid two rows of windows. Furious that he had been deceived, the Devil stomped out — leaving behind the cold wind and a deep dark footprint where he had stamped in anger, burning the newly laid floor. His fury was so enormous that the wind magnified itself and blew around the church, leaving it cold and forbidding. According to a legend, until the Devil returns to claim it, the cold wind will continue swirling angrily inside and around the church. The black footprint can be seen to this day and a chilly wind felt in and around the church. 

Since then, this church has been called the Devil’s cathedral by tourists. However, locals call it “Münchner Dom” — the Munich Cathedral. The full official German name is “Dom zu Unserer Lieben Frau” (Cathedral of Our Dear Lady). It serves as the cathedral of the Archdiocese of the Bavarian city of Munich and Freising and seat of its Archbishop. It is a landmark and is considered a symbol of the Bavarian capital city. The twin domes that were substituted for the spires in the original design owing to paucity of funds, can be seen from almost anywhere in Munich, especially since there is a restriction of 99 metres on the heights of buildings. Catholic Mass is held regularly in the cathedral. It has one of the largest church halls in southern Germany. Its huge size, the 22 pillars — 11 on either side, each 72 feet high and hiding windows, along the two aisles, behind the symmetrically lined pillars, the impressive row of arches leading all the way to the altar create a regal aura. In baroque times, the high altar would obscure the window at the very end of the church.

However, visitors can spot these now when standing in the hall. Earlier, from the main portal one could only see the rows of pillars and translucent walls and a halo behind the large altar. The windows that created these light effects were cleverly concealed behind the cleverly placed columns and the altar.

Since then, the church has been destroyed and rebuilt several times. Much of the interior was destroyed during World War II. The cathedral suffered severe damage from the Allied forces’ aerial raids during the latter stages of the War. The roof had collapsed, one of the towers severely damaged and most of the interiors was destroyed. Some of the precious art was rescued and shifted. An attraction that survived is the Teufelstritt, or blackened Devil’s Footstep, at the entrance on a distinct yellow tile at the beginning of the aisle leading to the altar. It is one of the first things anyone entering the church sees. 

Subsequent restorations have included elaborate art works by Peter Candid, Erasmus Grasser, Jan Polack, Hans Leinberger, Hans Krumpper and Ignaz Günther.

Yet, it is this footprint, perpetuated by a legend, which attracts most tourists to this church in a lane just outside the perpetually crowded central market square.

Locals and tourists believe that standing with one’s foot on the footprint symbolises trampling upon Satan and victory over Satanic forces in one’s life. Yes, I stood on the footprint for a full minute — but am not too sure about the satanic forces around me!