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ALSACE-LORRAINE

By George Wharton Edwards

 “Section 5”

 

 

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The Feast of the Pipers

 

 

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The Feast of the Pipers

(Les Menetriers)

 

There is perhaps no Fête day in all of Alsace­Lorraine so well loved by the people as that celebrated yearly as ”Pfeiffertag.” One of the earliest, if not the very oldest feast days of the Province, it had its origin in the little town of Ribeauville; some say, however, that it was at Ville or Schlestadt that it originated, at any rate during the sixteenth century it had a great vogue at Ribeauville (locally called Rapper­schwier), a small town of about 5,000 inhabitants, sur­rounded by the remains of high stone walls of the four­teenth century, lying at the entrance of a lovely valley, with a winding river, the Strengbach, and many fruitful vineyards. This town is said to have been the very head­quarters of The Guild Corporations. For instance, be­fore the Revolution no one could practice any trade or do any work whatever within the limits of the town, without having first been admitted to membership in the Guild governing his craft. Thus a painter or leather worker must have been regularly apprenticed under a known master workman; when, after a period, he must

 

 

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produce a piece of work which, accepted and approved by his master, gave him the right to apply for admission to the Guild. This was the law, and was rigidly en­forced. These Guilds included sometimes simply the workers of a town; sometimes those of a whole district. So the musicians of Alsace from the Vosges to the Rhine, and from Bale to the great Forest of Haguenare, the limits of the ancient Province, were united in one great and powerful corporation, which lasted for four cen­turies, up to the year 1789. This corporation was known as the Guild of the “Pfeiffers,” and these acknowledged members officiated at all dances, fetes and weddings known as “Kilbes” or “Mestigs” in the strange tongue of the inhabitants.

 

According to an old law the men of the “Maréchausée (Marshals of France) and the members of the Corps of Gensd’armes, were bound to learn to play either a flute or a trumpet, and upon proving their skill upon one or both of these instruments were given a certificate and en­tered upon the records of the corporation. Should any fail in or ignore this, a heavy penalty was inflicted. They enjoyed the protection of the Emperor, who granted them as “fief” to the Seigneur of Ribeaupierre. Thus this Seigneur, who possessed the three great Châteaux of Ribeaupierre, Giersberg and Saint Ulrich, became the King of the Musicians of Alsace, and was known as the “Pfeiffer Koenig,” who, however, for various reasons,

 

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delegated his powers to a viceroy, who could play the ancient instrument called the “Violé,” and who on state occasions wore the crown of the Seigneur and enjoyed temporary powers. The Association included four mas­ters and twelve jurors, who formed the tribune of the cor­poration, with power to punish those who were brought before them for infractions of any of the rules.

 

The Count of Rappoltstein was the “King” of all musicians and minstrels of the Upper Rhine up to the year 1673, when he died. The whole brotherhood recog­nized his authority, and paid him a large yearly tax for the benefit of his protection. The corporation was also a religious association. According to the records, one Eggenolf, a Seigneur of Ribeaupierre, was a crusader and was present at the sacking of Constantinople. He brought home with him an image of the Virgin Mary, which he placed in the chapel of Dusenbach, and this statue was carried in the processions of the Brotherhood. Each member received a medal stamped with the image which he wore on his breast.

 

On the day of the Fête, the 8th of September, the day of Ménétriers (fiddlers), or ‘Pfeiffertag,” when the small square of the town was filled at early dawn with a motley horde of wandering merchants and their gaily painted wagons; with tumblers and jugglers, and peas­ants in holiday costumes from the whole country round —from Colmar and Strassburg and even towns farther

 

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away, such as Bale and Wissembourg, the bells in the churches rang loudly, calling upon the musicians to form in line, as if this were necessary. They were already there in all their regalia, with their great corporation ban­ner hung with wreaths of flowers and dangling medals. At the head stood the “Pfeiffer Koenig,” clad in royal vel­vet robes, a crowned head for the occasion, and as proud and haughty as any real monarch. There were more than twenty men carrying the quaint beribboned bag­pipes, and an equal number who bore large polished brass horns, some of them trombones. The King carried an ancient “Viole,” something in shape like a guitar, and there were several other strangely shaped archaic instru­ments played with a bow, and held beneath the chin like a violin. The scene was animated and most amusing, but the landlord of the inn, a most doleful individual, regarded it all from his doorway with uplifted eye­brows, and refused to be impressed with it. “Ah,” said he, “‘Tis not what it was, ‘tis nothing now­adays—you should have seen it as I have often seen it when a boy. Then it was something like! This”—contemptuously— “this is nothing—very poor—very poor !—and these men are nothing to-day. In old times they would be the best men of the town, but now they are a poor lot, simply the peasants, M’sieur and Madame, simply the peasants!”

 

But one could hardly agree with him. It was all most

 

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picturesque to our eyes, and during the whole day and far into the night the musicians played, the tumblers tumbled, and the peasants thronged the streets joyously. There was much eating and a great deal of drinking, of course, but it was all most orderly, and the quaintly clad “gend’arme” had little to do except parade solemnly and look important.

 

The long street of the little town contains many fine houses of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in very good repair. The fine old tower in the market place is the ‘‘Metzgerthurm,” a remnant of the ancient fortifications, and there is too a fine “Rathaus,” containing a large col­lection of very beautiful old goblets of repoussé silver, kept in a state of high polish.

 

The fountain in the square is dated 1536, and farther on is the Gothic parish church, which was completed in the year 1782. There are the imposing ruins of three great castles here, the Giersberg, built in the thirteenth century and boldly perched on the crest of a precipitous cliff, from which a wonderful view of the Rhine valley is had, and farther on, the very remarkable Saint Ulrichs­burg, which is the most modern of the three castles, and was blown up during the Thirty Years’ War. The type of architecture is perhaps the most artistic in this region, if one may make use of the term for want of a better one to qualify it. The Knights’ Hall, a most impressive and spacious room lighted by double windows, is surrounded

 

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by niches which once held statues of the Knights. Great flocks of rooks flew in and out of these windows and seemed quite fearless of our presence. The third castle is that of Hoh-Rappoltstein, with a lofty tower, from the summit of which, could one climb it, a most wonderful view must be had, but the stones of the staircase had so fallen away in places that it was evidently dangerous. The country abounds with vineyards, in which the peas­antry labor contentedly, and the wine made here is most excellent and astonishingly cheap. Hereabouts are countless small towns of a thousand or two population, each with ruined castles, old walls and bastions and an­cient remains too numerous even to mention, and each with most delightful and cleanly inns, where the travel­ler may sojourn “the world forgetting, by the world for­got,” at the cost of five or six francs a day, with pension rates proportionately reduced. Indeed, we had difficulty in leaving Ribeauville (or Rappoltsweiler or Rapper­schwier, as it is called indiscriminately by the natives, according to their several preferences). which for two or three days in the year awakes to the drone of the bagpipes, and the delighted dancing of the peasants on the anniversary of the “Pfeiffertag.”

 

As a rule, away from the large cities and towns, especially those nearest to the former German border line, the important meal occurs at two or half past two in the afternoon. I was accustomed to this when I was here in

 

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my student days, but it may be imagined that her first dinner in Alsace-Lorraine made an impression upon Lady Anne. The table d’hôte was half filled when we en­tered the room, the side tables covered with a disorderly array of piled-up dishes, canes, umbrellas, and hats. The buxom, red cheeked, pretty girls in waiting and the fat calm of the expressionless landlord, throned in state at the end of the board, all had an odd look to her. There were already seated a couple of fat Majors, a fat Colonel, and three fat Lieutenants, in full uniform, all of them wearing glittering orders. There was also an officer of higher grade, all grizzled and obese, from whose broad beribboned breast swung a number of medals, stars, and crosses, and from whose naturally grim visage a sabre cut, beginning at the left temple and passing through the upper lip, had removed no iota of natural grimness. On the opposite side of the table were two plump, blue eyed, flaxed haired, good natured looking German ladies, between whom was a little withered fig of an official, whose name, as we caught it, was of but one syllable, but whose title rejoiced in thirteen: “Herr Koniglicher-hoch-ober-teurer-Inspektor Seip!” When he stood up after dinner he appeared about four feet two inches, or possibly two and a half inches, tall, the two and a half inches being boot heel.

 

His self-importance, however, was immeasurable and most amusing to contemplate. The ladies conversed with

 

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him adoringly, and he was all affability and condescen­sion with them, but the officers preserved a solemn silence, eyeing us with some curiosity, I thought. Some of them broke and munched their bread crusts, disordering the space before them; one bored holes in the cloth with the tines of his fork, to the dismay of the red checked serving maid who stood behind him. The others had tucked the large, damp linen napkins under their chins, and glanced from time to time impatiently towards the kitchen. The rich odor of soup floated out to us all at once, as the door opened, and it seemed as if all at the table swayed to its subtle flavor with one common impulse, and the hand of each officer moved automatically towards the spoon be­side his plate. The H.K.H.0.T.I. Seip emitted a long-drawn “A-h-h,” and clapped his diminutive with­ered hands as the red checked maid placed the large, deep soup dish before him, and then, without waiting for the others to be served, fell manfully to work.

 

Late comers, on entering, wished the feeders “guten appetit” (for these at the table d’hôte on this occasion were all Germans), and they growled and gurgled their responses into the bowls of their spoons. Lady Anne was surprised that the roast beef, which promptly followed the soup, should taste sour, and was disinclined  to eat it until I explained the reason and called her atten­tion to the satisfaction upon the part of the other guests, telling her that here in some of these small places where

 

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the cooking was in German style, “all is vinegary that is not greasy, and greasy that is not sour.”  Lady Anne was not prepared to see fish follow roast, nor pastry and marmalade succeed the fish; nor the huge joints of roasted pork and veal that followed the pastry; nor yet the chickens that displaced the roast, to make room in turn for a course of crayfish, and finally the goose guill toothpicks passed in a tall glass from one to the other, and industriously used as a matter of course. All at the table ate heartily of all the dishes, and  some sighed as the toothpicks appeared.

 

By the time the dinner was half over, one heard an occasional remark. but when the crayfish was served a general buzz of conversation ensued, through which rumbled an occasional ponderous chuckleborn German pleasantry. And thus the dinner progressed and ended.

 

As a mark of courtesy. we were invited to a christen­ing celebration in the village, to be exact, at the edge of the village, Burgomeister Kugelspiel and Frau Burgomeisterinn Kugelspiel and the two plump flaxen haired maidens who were pledges of their affection; and the maid who carried the iron lantern with which to light us on our way home, escorted us.

There we found a large gathering, more majors and young lieutenants in spick and span uniforms and embryo mustaches; a dozen young gins, and stout mamas and papas of greater or less obesity, all bent evidently

 

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upon having a very “deuce” of a time.  Most of the men smoked long stemmed pipes with elaborately decorated and betasseled china bowls, except the officers, who smoked only black cigars.  

 

There was a great deal of eating and drinking, the ladies sipping black coffee, and consuming pounds and pounds of heavy sweet cake, while the men ate cold meats and such, washing it down with copious and frequent drafts of Rhenish wine, all with that enormous and re­markable power of deglutition confined alone to Ger­man burghers.

 

And thus having eaten, drunk and smoked, they were all in great good humor, smiling fat expressive smiles of calm joy in existence. Therefore there was nothing left but black coffee, the inevitable glass of brandy, and the contemplative pipe.

In the drawing room, young people waltzed and polka’d, accompanied by a piano and violin, while in the corners the plump, placid mamas played whist or gos­siped.

 

Out in the garden we found the young mother exhibiting the baby with pride. Afterwards we saw her executing a slow waltz with the happy father, in which she revolved with true bovine gracefulness towards the din­ing room, and our last view of them both through the open window as we departed, showed her pressing ten­derly upon his acceptance a gigantic cut of sausage.

 

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When he put it to his lips her heart quite melted within her, and as she sank upon his bosom overcome with joy and tenderness, she exclaimed: “0 thou dearest and most blessed man!”

 

“They are so happy,” said the Frau Burgomeisterinn Kugelspiel to Lady Anne. “Ach!—is it not beautiful to behold ?“

 

[End of Section 5]

 

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