The story
Welcome to the threshold of Munich's most iconic landmark, the Frauenkirche. As you stand here at the entrance, take a moment to look up at the two massive towers that have defined the city’s skyline for over five centuries. They are a symbol of Munich’s resilience and faith, but beneath their shadows lies a story far more mischievous.
I want you to look down. Right here, in the pavement of the entrance hall, you will see a strange, blackened mark shaped like a human foot, with a small spur at the heel. This is the Teufelstritt, the Devil’s Footstep.
To understand why it is here, we must travel back to the year 1468. The architect, Jörg von Halsbach, known locally as Ganghofer, had taken on the monumental task of building this cathedral. Legend says that resources were low and the task was daunting.
The Devil, ever opportunistic, approached von Halsbach with a deal. He would provide the means to finish the church, but on one condition: the building must have no windows. The Devil wanted a dark, gloomy space that would mock the light of heaven.
von Halsbach, being a clever man, agreed to the wager. When the construction was complete, the Devil arrived to inspect the work. He stood exactly where you are standing now.
From this specific vantage point in the 15th century, the architectural design was a masterpiece of optical illusion. Because of the way the massive internal columns were aligned, they completely blocked the view of the tall, lateral windows. To anyone standing on this precise spot, the church appeared to be a solid wall of brick and stone with no glass at all.
The Devil looked around and began to laugh. He was delighted, believing the architect had fulfilled the bargain and created a windowless hall. But then, he took one curious step forward.
As he moved past the first set of pillars, the perspective shifted. Suddenly, the magnificent, soaring stained-glass windows were revealed, flooding the nave with light. Realizing he had been tricked by human wit, the Devil was consumed by a fit of blind rage.
He stomped his foot so violently into the floor that he left a permanent, scorched imprint in the stone. He then tried to blow the entire building down, transforming into a Great Wind. Locals say that wind still swirls around the towers of the Frauenkirche today, frustrated and forever unable to find its way inside.
As you walk further into the nave and see the light pouring in, you are walking through a victory of light over shadow, and a reminder of the legendary wit that built Munich.