round 8: Münster.

In the course of trying to plan the itinerary for Dad and Mom, several cities were added and/or dropped, but one place remained a constant: Münster, Germany. Dad kept saying it was the site of the single instance of Anabaptist atrocity, and was completely sold on going there, although we had no idea what, if anything, we'd find there. As it turns out, Münster has not lost sight of this particular phase of its history, but has an excellent couple of rooms dedicated to the 'Münster uprising' at its city museum, and oh yeah...THREE PEOPLE-SIZED CAGES HANGING FROM THE BELL TOWER OF ONE OF ITS CHURCHES. Which have been there for the majority of the time since 1536 (!).

Brace yourselves, kids: history ahead.

Beginning in about 1531, the rising popularity of Humanist ideals amongst Reformers, commoners, and (secular) guilds led to a series of peasant uprisings, which helped to create in Münster a refuge for Anabaptists from moderate to extremely radical. Under the protection of the guilds, a few radical Anabaptists gradually "occupied" all formerly Catholic churches within the city; eventually, anyone who wouldn't agree to adult baptism was driven from the city, and the city government was overthrown and claimed by a handful of the-end-times-are-upon-us-so-let's-create-the-"New Jerusalem," full-on crazy-pants* Anabaptists. They seized all power for themselves, essentially abandoned all good tenets of the radical Reformation, and instituted their own reign of terror mandating--among other delights--polygamy, shared distribution of goods, and violent resistance to whomever and whatever (e.g., dissenters, women who refused to marry, art and literature, etc.) they felt merited it. Outside the city walls were the massed Catholic armies of Bishop Franz of Waldeck, who, unamused by the wild-eyed Protestants taking over a portion of his territory, began laying siege to the city in 1534. Impoverished and fearful Anabaptists who had immigrated to the city seeking safety from persecution were trapped inside the city walls, duped into believing that the radicals were divinely inspired and that the kingdom of God on earth would soon arrive. Bands of these men were sent out as "apostles" or as armies to fight against the Bishop, and most perished. It was during this time that Anabaptist (in name only...!)  leader Jan van Leyden declared himself king and took 16 wives, executing all who opposed him, amassing a fortune, and sending the elderly and sick out from the city in order to conserve supplies; and Leyden's cohort Jan Mathijs decided he was Gideon, or some reincarnation thereof, and attempted to fight off the Catholic armies with a band of 30 men...an undertaking which ended in the mounting of Mathijs' head on a pole, paraded around the city as a lesson. The final lesson occurred in June of 1535, when Waldeck's armies were let into the city by a disgruntled and terrified guard; most of the male population of the city was slain, and Leyden and two of his lieutenants were tortured to death. (Torture instruments are on display at the museum in Münster...ick). Their bodies were hung in the cages on St. Lamberti's church as a warning; the bones hung there for 50 years, but the cages are still there. The Anabaptist cause suffered irreparable damage as a result of the Münster episode, even to this day: the Anabaptist label henceforth was associated with the atrocities committed there, the Münster tragedy was taken as cause to persecute even the most moderate of Anabaptists, and the Catholic church seized the opportunity to publicize the uprising in an attempt to wipe out not just Anabaptists but Protestantism as a whole (which, obviously, wasn't terribly successful in the grand scheme of things). Oddly enough, even into the 20th century, the Münster uprising became something of a tourist draw; fiction and poetry were written both about the tragedy and about the Anabaptists (vampires! thieves! and what have you), and candies, liquors, medallions, and other goods were branded with images, names, and dates from the time, all of which portrayed the Wiedertäufer (Anabaptists) as evil figures to be feared. (You are all welcome for this, my condensed version of this story. If you've made it this far, and just can't get enough, here and here are my main sources. History nerds unite!!)

Despite the horror of that particular era, Münster somehow survived and thrived and is now a truly delightful and interesting little city. Quite bustling, in late July, and full of interesting little shops, good restaurants, a university, a palace, and a handful of really old churches. I quite liked it and wished we'd had a little more time there...especially to sample the bratwurst they were grilling on the market square in front of the main cathedral. That was the best-smelling sausage ever.

Gargoyles on St. Lamberti Church (built between 1375 and 1450 AD).

The interior: a little spartan, compared to a few other churches we've seen.

Standing under the pipe organ, looking up. This thing is suspended...no floor support at all.

The exterior of the church, which would be fairly impressive on its own, given its Gothic stylings...

...and then you notice the cages on the bell tower. CREEPY, CREEPY, CREEPY. I'm with Dad on this one: pretty much wherever you are in town, you can see this spire, and it's hard not to look at it. Almost like it's following you.

Lest you think we spent all of our time in churches...Principalmarkt, the street in front of St. Lamberti. Medieval gabled houses and shopping arcades on the square, although most of them had to be reconstructed after WWII. 

Check this out: not one, but two manhole covers celebrating 1200 years of Münster.

This one has the cathedral on it.

European flower markets make my heart happy. FLOWERS, EVERYWHERE.

The city Wine House (1615). 

On the left is the historic Town Hall, where the Treaty of Westphalia was signed to end the Thirty Years' War in 1648 (and parts of the building date as far back as 1250).

Stadthaus tower. Built between 1905 and 1907 and the only remaining part of the city hall dating to that time.

Müenster's cathedral is located inside this interesting little city-within-the-city. This curving wall of shops is the exterior of the interior city. (Get it?)

...and now back to churches. St. Paul's cathedral, inside the city center. Sadly, all closed off for renovations while we were there. (Building started in 1225 and is apparently still going on.) I hear that they have an astronomical clock inside that goes through the year 2071; take that, Mayans.

Überwasser Church, dating back to 1340. A hurricane took the top off of the tower in 1704. This city has heaps of churches, all of them interesting and old.

Münster's palace, built 1767-1787. This particular week, it was hosting both a hybrid car expo and Münster Verwöhnt (Spoiled Münster), a high-end foodie fair. If we hadn't already had dinner reservations at a well-regarded bastion of local Westphalian food, we would have probably dropped loads of money trying all of the food 'n drink here. It was pretty spectacular.

A slightly closer view of the palace, which was currently hosting a graduation party for University of Westphalia-Wilhelm** students. It looked like a good time.

Münster is yet another town I'd like to revisit, if for no other reasons than to see the cathedral and their promenade park around the city center, and to stuff myself silly with whatever good food I can get my hands on. Speaking of which, we had dinner that evening at the Altes Gasthaus Leve, which, according to their website, has been in existence since 1607. That's kinda awesome. The interior is this crazy beerhall-style place, with dark wood-beamed ceilings, walls covered in little blue-and-white tiles, and ceramics and copper/pewter pots hanging all over the place. Very old-school, and the menu was fantastic: we started with a bread basket with schmaltz (it sounds gross, but it tastes so good in spread form!) and a plate of local cheeses (yum!), then Dad had a pork schnitzel with sweet pepper sauce and fries; Mom went for the pork steaks with garlic and rosemary cream sauce, which came with potatoes fried with onions and bacon; Mike had the sausage sampler (complete with bloodwurst, liverwurst, and a handful of other small and local sausages) with sauerkraut; I went for what I thought might be a small-ish/healthy-ish plate of broad beans with ham, which turned out not only to be slathered in some sort of creamy sauce, but also came with an actual slab of ham, and one of bacon, a local sausage, and boiled potatoes (I definitely won for quantity); and we finished everything by splitting a bowl of cherry quark (a sort of curd-like, creamy, super mild cheese) topped with a splash of rum and some pumpernickel bits. Fantastic, heavy, authentic German food...what's not to love?

The next morning we indulged in our hotel's fantastic breakfast (featuring fresh-squoze orange juice, and all manner of fantastic meats, cheeses, breads, jams, fish, fruit, yogurt, cereal...I LOVE EUROPEAN BREAKFAST!), and Mike picked up our rental car for the drive to our next destination: tiny little Pingjum and Witmarsum, practically on the North Sea, in Holland.

Next up: tiny little Pingjum and Witmarsum, practically on the North Sea, in Holland.




*Why yes, that is the correct historical term for them.
**Ok, it's really called the Westfälische Wilhelms-Universität, but that's hard to type.