“Poetical and Devotional Superstitions of Italy” (Blackwood’s Magazine)

Performer Name:

 

Performance Venue:

 

Performance Date:

 

Author:

 

Date Written:

 

Language:

English

Publication Title:

Blackwood’s Magazine

Article Title:

Poetical and Devotional Superstitions of Italy

Page Numbers:

26: 57-60

Additional Info:

 

Publisher:

William Blackwood and Sons

Place of Publication:

Edinburgh

Date Published:

1829

Text:

[57] Many curious details of the Tuscan fairies are interwoven with the narratives of the rural improvisatori, some of whom possess no inconsiderable degree of erudition. The marvellous history of Ferragosto and Calendi-Maggio, as related on the first of May by a rustic narrator, was committed to paper by an intelligent traveller, who witnessed the festival of the Maio, at a farm-house near Florence, and from whose journal I have extracted this May-day adventure.

[…]

[58] "A diminutive and greyheaded old man, who had enlivened our rural meal by many pleasant songs, which he accompanied on the bass, was loudly summoned by the children after breakfast to tell them the wonderful history of Ferragosto, Calendi Maggo, and their sisters Befana and Mezza Quaresima. He yielded at length to the solicitations of the whole party, to which I added mine, being curious to hear a specimen of the quaint and original eloquence of a rural improvisatore. Immediately the peasants hoisted the little man upon the table, crowned him with a cap of gilt paper, and invested him with a printed bed-quilt by way of mantle. The orator then grasped a wine flask coated with platted straw, and exclaimed:—'Ragazzi! Ragazze! e voi ultri tutti quanti, ascoltate!' After a pause, during which he applied the bottle to his lips, he said, with an air of ludicrous solemnity, 'I had this true and pleasant history from Ferragosto himself. He told it me during his last appearance on earth, and I will give it you so exactly in his words and voice, that you may suppose him actually sitting before you.' Then expanding his chest, and deepening his voice, he continued: 'Dunque io son Ferragosto!' (Behold me then Ferragosto!) At these words the excited group became silent and motionless, and the children gazed with eager looks, and open mouths, upon Ferragosto, who now threw back his head, elevated his shoulders to increase his bulk, expanded his arms, and, after looking gravely round the circle, began his recital, of which, however, I profess only to render the spirit, the language being in that burlesque style of the sixteenth century, which is endurable only in the original Italian.

'There was once a great king named Charlemagne, who was, besides, the emperor of Rome. After many and many battles and conquests, he came into our country with a numerous retinue of great personages; and my father, although nothing but a sausage-maker of Belgioso, was one of the party. King Charlemagne prized men of talent in all classes of society; and my father, who was a distinguished artist in his line, was made much of at court. Unfortunately, however, he died upon the journey, after recommending his children to the paternal care of his good king and patron, whom we accompanied to Florence. The conqueror, who had destroyed so many cities, amused himself with rebuilding the city of Flowers. He collected there the population scattered through the neighbourhood; and many of his courtiers, to whom he granted feudal privileges, established themselves in Florence, and contributed to the embellishment of this new metropolis.

'Before his departure, Charlemagne wished to see the environs of Florence, and, being attracted by the high celebrity of the fairies of Fiesole, he went there with a numerous retinue, in which were my brother, my two sisters, and myself. When the court had arrived before the Buche delle Fate, at Fiesole, the emperor deposited there some rich presents; and, in return, he was most graciously received by the fairies, who granted an especial boon to every one of his attendants. They made the famous paladin Orlando invulnerable; for it is altogether a mistake to say that he was born so. Maugis was endowed with all the knowledge requisite to make a good necromancer; and, in short, everyone had some favour granted, except my youngest sister, Mezza Quaresima, who would not ask any, and was cruelly punished, as you shall hear anon. For my own share, I requested the fairies to make me immortal. Satisfied, however, with a brief existence every year, I begged only for a renewal of life during the first week of August, and conditioned that this period should become a fes- [59] tival, during which my return to earth should be annually celebrated by rejoicings and banquets. You shall now hear how I terminate my annual existence. I go at midnight to the abode of the fairies, whose door is always open to me, and there I find a cask of wine, the delicious poison of which takes away my life. I drink and drink until I fall asleep, and then I expire in good faith, and very comfortably. On the day appointed for my resuscitation, the fairies bring me to life again in this manner. They cut open a large, fat, well-pickled sow, put me into the inside, and carefully stitch up the orifice. Then the fairies apply a melon to the pig's snout, through which the grateful odour penetrates to my nostrils. Gradually I return to life; the sow is again cut open, and I jump out of my grave as handsome and lively as ever.

'My brother Calendi Maggio was gifted with music, and ever since, the first of May has been a festival on which the Tuscans honour his memory by songs and May-trees. My eldest sister Befana had the audacity to beg that she might herself become a fairy, and her ambition was gratified on condition that every year, on the night of the sixth of January, she would frighten the children by threatening to cut in two all those who plagued their nurses, or would not eat their porridge without pulling faces. My other sister, who unwisely rejected the proffered gifts of the fairies, had soon reason to repent; for, had she only asked permission to eat meat in Lent, she would have escaped a miserable death. During her pregnancy, she was seized at Mid-Lent with an irresistible longing for a Bologna sausage; and, to make bad worse, she devoured it eagerly, and without cooking. This heinous crime was discovered, betrayed, and pronounced unpardonable. My poor sister was condemned to the dreadful punishment of being sawn in two, and the only remission granted was the privilege of dying incognita in the garb of a nun. In memory of this catastrophe, and in the Piazza Padella, the very spot where it took place, the sad spectacle is renewed every year at Mid-Lent, by sawing in two a wooden puppet, which is still called the Monaca.'

Ferragosto having finished the story of his family, which he had interrupted by frequent applications to his wine-flask, threw his gilt crown amidst the crowd of listeners, jumped down from the table, and took leave of his hosts, to attend his duty as a chorister in the next parish. At the same time I quitted the hospitable peasants, and accompanied him, followed by long-repeated exclamations from the children of "Viva Ferragosto, Calendi Maggo, e tutti quanti!"

As we paced onward together, I questioned the old improvisatore as to the real origin of the festival of Calendi Maggio, and the garrulous old man, pleased with the opportunity to display his erudition, gave me the following details. 'The story I have just related,' he began, 'is no invention of my own. The materials are borrowed from the historian Buonarotti, and, in the works of the Della Crusca academicians will be found the source of all the jokes, puns, and pasquinades, which the people make on Ferragosto and his family. Their adventures belong to the tales called Fataggine in Italy, and Féeries in France, and they deserve a place in the "Bibliothéque bleue." The name of Calendi Maggio proves the ancient date of this festival, which is a relic of the old Roman custom of celebrating the calends of May. The songs composed for this occasion are called Maggiolate: the decorated tree, and the branches with which our rustic lovers decorate the windows of their fair ones, are called Maio. This annual festivity, which is preserved only in rural districts, was once celebrated in cities, and dignified by songs, dances, and feastings, which lasted several days; for instance, the grand banquet of the first of May, given in the Portinari palace, where Dante fell in love. Evidence of the former prevalence of these festivals exists in the numerous maggiolate composed by different authors, and amongst others by the magnificent Lorenzo de Medici, whose poems are not at all worse than those of a common citizen. One of his songs commences thus—

Ben venga Maggio
El gonfalon salvaggio:

and in another, he thus alludes to these festivities—

Se tu v appicare un maggio
A qualcuna che tu ami.

One of the latest celebrations of this [60] festival in Florence, was in 1612, when a Maio was planted and sung before the Pitti palace, in honour of the Arch-Duchess of Austria.

Notes:

Collected by:

CB