Latest / The History of Germany: Kingdoms, War, and Rebuilding Europe — Fexingo History / The Cologne Cathedral: 632 Years of Faith, Money, and National Pride
Transcript
- Lucas: So, Luna, if you've walked around Cologne, you know that cathedral—the Kölner Dom—just looms over everything. It's enormous, blackened from centuries of soot, and it took over six hundred years to finish. But the story of why it took that long, and the politics behind it, is actually pretty wild. Luna: Six hundred years? I knew it was old, but that long? Lucas: Yeah, construction started in 1248 and wasn't completed until 1880. So there's a gap of over three hundred years where basically nothing happened. And the reason has everything to do with the relic trade, the Reformation, and later, German nationalism. Lucas: It all starts with the Three Kings. In 1164, the Archbishop of Cologne, Rainald of Dassel, brought the relics of the Magi from Milan to Cologne, supposedly. He was chancellor to Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, and he basically looted them from a church in Milan. These bones made Cologne a major pilgrimage destination, so the city needed a proper cathedral to house them. Luna: So the whole thing was built to show off the relics? Lucas: Exactly. The old cathedral was a Carolingian building, but the archbishops wanted something world-class. They decided on a Gothic design inspired by the French cathedrals—Amiens, Beauvais. The foundation stone was laid in 1248 by Archbishop Konrad von Hochstaden. And the first master builder, known only as Master Gerhard, designed this massive structure with a choir that was already ahead of its time. Lucas: But here's where it gets interesting. By the 16th century, construction had stalled. The Reformation shifted priorities, money dried up, and the cathedral's unfinished state became a sort of local joke. They called it the 'eternal building site.' The huge crane on top of the south tower became a landmark of its own—it was there for almost four hundred years. Luna: I've seen that crane in old prints. It's iconic. Lucas: Right. So the cathedral sat half-finished for centuries. Then in the 19th century, the Romantic movement revived interest in medieval architecture. The German states were pushing for unification, and what better symbol than a colossal Gothic cathedral that was uniquely German? The Prussians, especially King Frederick William IV, saw it as a project that could unite the nation. Lucas: In 1842, a new effort began, led by architect Ernst Friedrich Zwirner. They used the original medieval plans, which had been rediscovered, and completed the cathedral in 1880—632 years after it started. The celebration was huge: it was seen as a triumph of German engineering and national pride. Luna: So it was finished just in time for the new German Empire? That's convenient. Lucas: Very convenient. And it worked—the cathedral became a symbol of German identity. But it also survived some close calls. During World War II, Cologne was heavily bombed. The city was almost flattened, but the cathedral took only minor damage. There are theories: maybe the Allies used it as a navigation landmark, or maybe they just wanted to preserve it. Either way, it stood. Lucas: After the war, the cathedral became a symbol of resilience. It was one of the first buildings repaired, and it's been under constant restoration ever since. There's a dedicated foundation, the Dombau, that handles all the stonework. They replace crumbling stones with new ones, and they're still at it today. Luna: It's like a living building, always being rebuilt. Lucas: Exactly. And that brings us to something I've been thinking about. You know, keeping a project like this going—whether it's a cathedral or a podcast—takes support. This show is ad-free and listener-supported, and if you've been enjoying these deep dives into German history, a couple of dollars a month genuinely makes a difference. You can find us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's what keeps us going, no strings attached. Luna: Yeah, it really helps. And speaking of ongoing projects, the cathedral's restoration is a perfect example of how things need constant care. Lucas: Right. So, back to the cathedral: one of the most fascinating details is the Shrine of the Three Kings—the Dreikönigenschrein. It's a gold-covered reliquary made by a medieval goldsmith named Nikolaus of Verdun. It's considered one of the masterpieces of Mosan art. And the relics inside—whether you believe they're real or not—drew pilgrims from all over Europe. Luna: Were they actually the bones of the Magi? Lucas: Probably not. The bones are likely from three different individuals, and they were probably moved from Constantinople or somewhere in the East. But medieval people believed they were authentic, and that belief built a cathedral. So in a way, the power of the story mattered more than the facts. Lucas: Another thing: the cathedral's stained glass windows. The oldest ones are from the 13th century, and they're stunning. But during the war, they were removed and stored in a salt mine for safekeeping. After the war, some were reinstalled, but in 2007, a new window by the artist Gerhard Richter was installed in the south transept. It's made of thousands of randomly arranged colored squares, and it's a huge contrast to the medieval ones. Luna: I've seen pictures of that—it's like a pixelated rainbow. Must be jarring next to the old windows. Lucas: It is, but it's also a statement. The cathedral isn't frozen in time. It's a living monument that keeps evolving. And that's what makes it so compelling: it's not just a relic of the past, but an active part of the city's identity. Lucas: And it's still the second-tallest church in Germany and the tallest twin-spired church in the world. If you climb the 533 steps to the top of the south tower, you get a view of the entire Rhine Valley. It's worth the leg workout. Luna: I'll have to add that to my list. So, over six centuries of work, and it's still not done? Lucas: Not at all. The Dombau team is constantly replacing stones. They quarry special sandstone from the nearby Sülz region, and they carve each stone by hand using traditional techniques. It's a craft that's been passed down for generations. In a way, the cathedral is never truly finished—it's always in a state of becoming. Lucas: And that might be the most German thing about it: the commitment to perfection and the willingness to keep working on something for centuries. It's a monument to patience, faith, and a bit of political ambition. Luna: I love that. It makes me see the cathedral differently. Lucas: Me too. Next time you're in Cologne, look up at those spires and think about all the hands that shaped them—from Master Gerhard to the masons carving stone today.