Piantarmaggio

A few years ago, a friend told us about his village’s pagan/Christian celebration and we knew it was not to be missed. As advised, on April 30th we arrived at San Pellegrino at 10:30 pm, just as the festa, a pagan/Christian mix with pretty evident phallic symbolism (logicamente, this is Italy!), was about to begin.

According to legend, in 1004 AD on a stormy night a bedraggled pellegrino (pilgrim) and his companion knocked at the gate of the castle. The local lord scornfully sent them away. However, his daughter dreamed of them suffering the cold, and so the next day vassals were sent out. Sadly, the pilgrim and his companion were found dead under a bridge – but the pilgrim’s staff, lodged upright in the ground, had miraculously sprouted branches overnight. To commemorate the santo pellegrino (lit. “holy pilgrim” – btw, his image surmounts many a medieval arch in the town), the townspeople buried them with full honors, changed the town’s name, and have celebrated this event ever since (1007th time tomorrow!).

Shortly after our arrival, a shout announced the start and with energizing cries, the maggiaioli (lit., men of May) took off, dragging two poplars uphill to the main square at a dead run as they war-whooped, proceeded by younger boys in torches running ahead of them. Observers had come from afar and the excitement was palpable as all surged towards the main square.

Earlier, the most massive, tallest poplar in the area as well as a smaller one (to symbolize the flowering tip of the Holy Pilgrim’s staff), had been cut down. (The maggiaioli replant many poplars every April, more than making up for the two trees cut down each year.) The trunks had been bound together, side by side, with massive ropes. Over a hundred maggiaioli in burlap tunics (the “sackcloth” of the roving “holy pilgrim”) were lined up on both sides of the bound trees, grasping ropes which would be used to haul the tree trunks on the sterzetto (farm cart) to the main square.

And then the shaving, chopping began: all the branches of the big tree were chopped off, the bark was slivered off (women and children scrambling for lucky pieces of bark and for branches). This lasted until nearly 2:30 a.m. All watched in fascination, chatted, and visited the food tents for refreshments now and then. The children played with the pieces of bark and with each other.

At nearly 2:30 a.m, via wedges carefully cut in the top of the big tree and the bottom of the smaller one, the joining of the two trees took place – the trunks were literally grafted into one another. And then, finalmente! – il piantarmaggio, the “planting of May”. The victorious shouts of the crowd blended with the grunts of the men as they hauled on the ropes, slowly raising the “tree” over 30 meters high, its trunk wedged into the hole dug out in the center of the piazza. Maypole.

The symbolic tree – called Il Maggio (“the May”) stays in the central piazza of San Pellegrino the whole month as all come to gaze up in wonder and touch it, stroke it, seeking the blessing of San Pellegrino… probably oblivious to any other significance! (In the rural areas, with a wink and a chuckle a young man will often ask another Hai gia’ piantato maggio?. “Have you planted May yet?” They both know what it means!)

The tradition of the San Pellegrino raising of the poplar is so sacred that during the ravaging years of World War II – when the male population of the town was absent – the women carried on the sacred tradition. In the area, the local farmers believe that the cutting of a poplar – symbolizing abundance and union – on their land in May will bring good fortune all year long.

More Notes from same category

• La Balestra
• The City of Miracles
• Medieval Street Theater on the Move
• Auguri di Pasqua
• Easter Eggs
• Porta Palazzo
• Extraordinary Maintenance
• Spellbound in Spello
• The Ides of March
• Festa delle Donne