The most beautiful diversions runs right through the city
Written by: Joep Vossebeld
We love to wander the winding streets and alleys. There is always a trumpet calling us somewhere, or a rattling drum echoing against the facades, turning the street into one big sound box. Suddenly we pause for a moment as a silver bell silences us and woeful incense pricks our nostrils. Then we follow that same nose again, looking for the best food, the best company, the longest night. We don't look for the most efficient route between A and B, but for the most beautiful diversions: Going out here is, quite literally, going out. And not just from terrace to café, but precisely in those trips that mark the seasons and years: Vastelaovend, Servaas Procession and Pilgrimage Of Relics, as well as Giant Procession and Museum Night. Both exuberant and subdued: Life is a trek, the road is more important than the goal.
Pilgrimage
It ties in with the medieval source of the Sanctuary Procession. This festival, celebrated once every seven years, is today synonymous with the historic procession that passes through the city. Originally, however, it was a pilgrimage, with pilgrims heading to Maastricht from all over Europe. Saint Servatius was the great magnet for all those travellers: people attributed great powers to the remains of Maastricht's first bishop. These so-called relics were personal objects of saints, in Servaas' case including a large key that would give access to the Gate of Heaven. But relics could also be body parts, such as a tooth, an arm or even the entire body. To our tastes, these might be somewhat sinister, but for medieval people they were a way of making abstract belief tangible. It was believed that seeing or touching these objects or bones established a spiritual contact with these holy predecessors. Any past sins would be forgiven, thus saving the soul from a stay in hell or purgatory.
Medieval mass tourism
During the period of the Sanctuary, the attraction was even greater. Anyone who visited the relics of Servaas during these ten days earned an indulgence approved by the Pope, a kind of credit note for at the gates of heaven. And because God created earth and heaven in six days and used the seventh day for rest and reflection, the Sanctuary was organised once every seven years. This cycle was also a clever marketing move; the pilgrimage cities of Aachen, Kornelimünster and Maastricht decided as early as the 14th century to coordinate their Sanctuary Visits in such a way that pilgrims could visit all three places consecutively. It led to medieval mass tourism where pilgrims from all corners of the continent visited the region once every seven years. It left the city bursting at the seams; at its peak, some 10,000 pilgrims came per day out of a population of 15,000. In Aachen, incidentally, the Pilgrimage Of Relics of 1440 literally led to bursting joints: due to the huge influx of pilgrims, some houses around the Dom Church collapsed, thirteen pilgrims went straight to heaven in the process.
Celebration and reflection
To give all those travellers the opportunity to see the relics, they were shown daily from a gallery of Servaas church to the crowds flocking to Vrijthof. The pilgrims then blew their pilgrim horns by the thousands. It must have been a mighty spectacle, perhaps not so different in volume and sound from today's Carnival Tuesday, when the Zaate Hermeniekes blow their instruments crookedly on the same square. Party and reflection, by the way, always went hand in hand. The debauchery of carnival is followed by sober Lent, a procession was also the time for the annual fair. It is still evident in a word like kermis, which derives from church mass. As a counterpart to the procession, the annual Servaas fair is thus equally part of a centuries-old tradition.
To an outsider, procession and Pilgrimage Of Relics in particular seem to indicate a deeply religious city, where the Rich Roman Catholic life is still alive and kicking. It is worth remembering that many participants and protagonists pull the cart at both the subdued and exuberant moments: The historical costumes hang in the same closet at their homes as the carnival 'pekskes'; they walk with solemn faces in the procession, while there is still face paint behind their ears (so to speak). Their devotion seems to come from involvement with the city rather than religious conviction. As early as 1967, the organisers of the Pilgrimage Of Relics* wrote that a purely religious procession was "undesirable", because there was no longer any enthusiasm for it among the participants or the public. However, they did not want to do away with the procession altogether either: "The feast would no longer be a feast." From then on, they opt for a historical procession in which the relics are carried along as works of art. "The credibility of the contents need not play a role for the spectator, they can be judged purely on their art value."
* Foundation the Tomb of Saint Servatius
The first Giant procession
Within this shift from religion to history, it seems no coincidence that a year later (1968) the Maastricht Giant Guild was founded, followed in 1977 by the first Giant procession. A still relatively young tradition, then. Which, incidentally, ties in with the centuries-old giant tradition in Flanders, some of which dates back more than five hundred years. In the giants' procession, the puppet of a ferociously bearded warrior named Gigantius is pulled through the city. He is accompanied on that journey by groups in 16th-century costumes. Because the story on which the Maastricht city giant is based is indeed old: an archive document from 1550 tells of a giant placed at the city gate on the occasion of Emperor Charles V's entry into Maastricht. This puppet, dressed as a Germanic warrior, was said to have two small puppets in a sack: The emperor himself and the prince-bishop of Liège, at that time the rulers in Maastricht. The giant would thus symbolise the independence of the city and its citizens: with the rulers 'in their pockets', power is up to the people.
Power to the people
Power to the people is also what these current parades, processions and polonaises have in common. Because once it was mainly the church (procession) and the state (military parade) that passed through the city to show their power; nowadays it is mainly expressions of community spirit. Associations and groups of friends, children's choirs and voluntary organisations work together for months (and sometimes years) towards one goal: a long-drawn-out performance where everyone shows their best side to the rest of the city and to each other. This can be done by putting on new costumes for the Pilgrimage Of Relics or rehearsing a new song; by walking as tightly as possible to the beat during the procession, or by blowing at their loudest during 'Vastelaovend'.
* A skill that involves an unexpected amount of rehearsal hours.
What these traditions also share is that they use the city as a stage. The historical facades contribute to the sense of tradition, of participating in something that transcends your own life time and individual. But also in a more practical sense: the often narrow streets with their tall houses amplify every sound like a sound box. At every intersection, congestion arises, giving room for chance encounters. And audiences are often close to the participants, you watch and are watched, the boundary between spectator and participant is no longer relevant. It is there that the idea of society emerges: working together towards a goal that is as concrete as it is abstract: the city where you live. And that every year, for generations.
