In the heart of Tartu, where paths wind quietly through the tree-covered slopes of Toome Hill, stands a somber, dark structure that has sparked curiosity, jokes, and legends for over a century: Devil’s Bridge, or Kuradisild.
At first glance, the name seems dramatic. There’s no devil carved into its stone, no fire-and-brimstone story tied directly to its construction. But cross beneath its heavy arch and you’ll feel it — something dense and stern lingers here, especially when compared to its graceful neighbor just uphill, Angel’s Bridge (
https://reveal.world/en/story/angels-bridge-a-quiet-promise-above-the-hill). The two are often seen as opposites, even though they were never formally intended that way. The contrast was simply too poetic for locals to resist.
Devil’s Bridge was built in 1913, at the very edge of one era and the beginning of another. It marked 300 years of Romanov rule and was officially named after Tsar Alexander I. But Tartu, ever independent in spirit, had little interest in imperial flattery. People took one look at the bridge’s solid concrete frame, sharp angles, and dark materials, and gave it a name that fit its mood better: Kuradisild.
Compared to Angel’s Bridge, with its light neoclassical lines and romantic atmosphere, Devil’s Bridge feels colder, heavier, almost brooding. Its early use of reinforced concrete was technically modern at the time, but in Tartu’s natural landscape, it gives off the sense of something slightly out of place — like a shadow of empire built into a student town. Over time, it became the perfect backdrop for student myths and half-serious ghost stories.
One popular legend says that if you cross the bridge alone at midnight, the devil himself might walk beside you. Another version claims that if you hesitate or look back while crossing, you’ll be followed by bad luck. Whether taken seriously or just whispered during walks home from the pub, these stories have helped the bridge become more than just a path — it’s a character.
Today, Devil’s Bridge is part of a peaceful walking route through Toome Hill, used daily by students, tourists, and locals alike. Few stop to read the inscription to Tsar Alexander. Most just walk on, sensing the subtle shift in tone as they pass beneath its arch and then back into the light.
Whether you believe the legends or not, there’s no denying the bridge lives up to its name — not because of any devil, but because of the strange, quiet weight it still carries after all these years
