High up at the Freiburger Münster, in the middle of the filigree stonemasons, which decorate this Gothic masterpiece, is enthroned one of the most unusual figures in medieval architecture: the moonlight. This cheeky sculpture, which shows a man who turns his exposed rear part of the city, is much more than a curious decoration. She tells a story of revenge, pride and the power of a simple craftsman who rebelled against the authorities. Freiburg’s legend has fascinated residents and visitors for centuries and throws a light on the social tensions of the Middle Ages.

The story begins in the 14th century when the Freiburg Münster was built. The cathedral, a symbol of the city’s faith and the prosperity, was a joint project that was borne equally by citizens, clergymen and craftsmen. Among the many stonemasons involved in the building, one is said to have stood out – a man whose name has not handed over the story, but whose work remains unforgettable. According to Legend, this stonemason came into a dispute with the Freiburg City Council, which was responsible for the financing and organization of the cathedral building. The exact circumstances of the conflict are unclear, but the stories speak of unjust payment, condescending treatment or even rejection of his craftsmanship.

At a time when artisans often had little influence, the stonemason found a unique opportunity to express its protest. At one of the water yield figures that should derive the rainwater from the roofs of the cathedral, he created a sculpture that mocked the city council: a man who fends deep and stretches his back to the city. This gesture, which was considered a serious insult in the Middle Ages, was not only an act of rebellion, but also a brilliant move. Since the figure was attached high up on the tower, it remained unnoticed for a long time – until it was finally discovered when the construction had already progressed well. The scandal was perfect, but the stonemason had made its point.
The symbolism of the moon dyer goes beyond the mere act of revenge. Wasserget, also called “Gargoyles”, had a double function in the Middle Ages: they derived water and were supposed to drive away evil spirits. The moon election could thus be interpreted as a kind of protective symbol – not against demons, but against the injustices of secular power. His position at the Münster, a place of spirituality, gives the figure an additional irony: While the church preached the humility, the stonemason showed with its sculpture that the simple people could also defend their pride and dignity.
The legend of the lunar dyer has experienced many variations over the centuries. Some say that the stonemason was banned from the city after the unveiling of its sculpture, others claim that it was celebrated as a hero by the citizens. Historians disagree whether the story is true or whether it emerged as a popular story to illustrate the tensions between craftsmen and the urban elite. However, what remains undisputed is the fascination that the moon election exerts. Tourists who visit the Münster are specifically looking for the cheeky figure, and local guides tell the story with a wink.

Today the Mondehrier is a symbol of Freiburg’s unconventional spirit. He reminds that even in hierarchical societies the voice of the individual can be heard – sometimes in an unexpected way. The sculpture also stands for the humanity of medieval art, which immortalized not only divine ideals, but also humor, protest and everyday life. For the Freiburg, the Mondeskier is a piece of identity, a sign that your city is not only an architectural jewel, but also a lively story.
The truth about the moonlight may be wrapped in the fog of history, but his message is timeless: courage and creativity can challenge even the most powerful institutions. While the Freiburg Münster continues to attract visitors from all over the world, the Mondehrier remains a quiet witness of a rebellious past – and proof that a simple stonemason with a piece of stone can shape the story of a city forever.