Celebrating Medieval Italy

After a quick stop for cappuccino at our little pastacceria, the four of us took the funiculore up the hill to Certaldo Alto to attend the 9 o’clock Mass at the little church up there. The church is very tiny, and Mass is mostly attended by the old people who still live up on top of the hill. So I’m sure they wondered who we were (“who are those Americano whippersnappers?”), but we’re used to that by now.

Giovanni Bacaccio, the Renaissance writer from this area in whom Bec is so interested, is buried in the floor of that church. Bec, therefore, was very excited to be sitting in the little pew right next to his burial place. After Mass, we stopped back at the pastacceria and had a pastry along with another cup of coffee.

We had awakened to overcast skies, but by time we finished our goodies, the skies were getting really dark. We had no sooner gotten home then it began to pour. We hadn’t planned an extremely busy day, but we also didn’t relish the thought of spending the entire day inside the little Priest’s House. Luckily for us, after we had all finished a little picnic lunch and taken a short nap, the rain stopped and the skies became mostly clear.

There is a small town 20 kilometers or so from here called Monteriggioni. It sits up on a hill (a familiar refrain, no?) and is an exceptional example of an old medieval fortress town. So it’s hard to imagine a better venue for a festival featuring knights, sword fighting, and war battles. Sunday was the last day of the three-day medieval festival, and we decided it sounded like fun.

We got to Monteriggioni about 4. The walls were open, but they were still just setting up. We walked around the town for a bit, then stopped at a café for a glass of wine. By time we finished, some of the events had begun.

After watching some of the goings-on (not necessarily easy since it is all, of course, in Italian), we followed the procession down the hill to a big field where a battle between the Siennese and the evil Florentines was recreated. Though the battle was explained to the crowd, the narration was in Italian. From the best of our observations, however, the Siennese appeared to lose the battle. TR observed that he has to root for the Siennese at everything until Thursday, when they plan on visiting Florence, and then he has to root for the Florentines. It’s hard to keep up.

After the battle, we battle-weary travelers trekked back up the hill to the little café where we had enjoyed our wine. We beat everyone else, and were quickly seated in a little garden area. We all shared a couple of pastas for a first course and some roast pork for a second course, and, of course, a bottle of vino rosso. All delicious, as usual.

We left the restaurant just in time to watch one of the oddest events of the night. A parade of people came into the piazza, apparently portraying the devil and his helpers (five or six women with painted faces). They put on a morality play that was very scary. The dialog was in Italian, but you frankly didn’t have to know Italian to be frightened by the scary costumes and makeup. The actors (if that’s what they were; I’m frankly concerned they might actually be devils!) were on stilts and they didn’t even try to tone down their actions and facial expressions and voices to make it less frightening for the children. For a time, we weren’t sure what was happening. Bill predicted, correctly as it turned out, that a religious figure would show up that would overcome the devils. The play, which went on for a very long time, ended with the she-devils ripping the arms off of Satan. All quite macabre.

For a short time, we watched what we guess was a comedic act that featured two men torturing an old woman. Something must have been lost in the translation (or lack thereof), because the crowd thought the act was hilarious while we couldn’t quite find the humor in it. Bec pointed out that this festival was probably very realistic and typical of the type of activities that took place during the medieval period. In a million years, you wouldn’t see this type of thing at a festival in the United States. I said if they brought out the roosters for cock fighting, I was out of there!

The evening concluded with some sword fighting that was really entertaining. We think the fights were supposed to be between Siena and Florence, though we don’t know that for a fact. But the fighters were very skilled and we enjoyed watching them very much.

The festival concluded with a fireworks display, but as it was 11:15 by this time, we decided to leave before the crowd. Bec was surprised at how late it was for the many children attending this festival, especially on a Sunday night. We know it was very late for us old folks.