Sunday, November 20, 2005

Weddings, Bavarian Style







The Hochzeitlader, "Der Blumenbaum, Jan., Feb., Mar., 2005










After a brief interruption for Martini I’m back to the subject of 19th century wedding customs, this time those of Bavaria. (Upon rereading that sentence, it sounds as if I've been having some liquid refreshment. Actualy, there is another kind of "martini" which is described in my previous post.)

Background
In 1984 I went to Eastern Bavaria with a second cousin on my mother’s side of the family to visit the little villages where our Probst ancestors had lived. When I dragged cousin Allen into a bookstore in the city of Regen, I gravitated toward a book with pretty pictures titled, Der Landkreis Regen: Heimat im Bayerischen Wald, and didn’t worry about the content. At that time the only German I knew was “Der Bleistift ist auf dem Tisch” (The pencil is on the table). An opportunity to read that phrase did not occur very often. But as so often has happened to me when I am on German soil, I had the good luck to pick a book with fantastic information in it.

As soon as I learned to read some German, I realized I had brought home a detailed word picture of life in Eastern Bavaria as well as a pretty picture book. In 1858, Bavaria’s King Maximilian II ordered the district medical officer in each Landkreis (administrative district) to send him an account of his subjects. It was to contain a description of their physical attributes, their clothes, their housing, the way they earned their living, even their customs and celebrations. Here was a king with an uncommon curiosity about the people he ruled.

A number of these written manuscripts were preserved and stored in the Bayerischen Staatsbibliothek (Bavarian State Library) in Munich. The reports about the Eastern Bavarian districts of Viechtach and Regen were translated by Dr. Reinhard Haller in a chapter called “Ethnographische Beschreibung der Landgerichte Viechtach und Regen aus den Jahren 1858-1860.” The report contained words that no longer exist in regular German dictionaries, which made me unsure of my translation. Help arrived in the form of an article in “Der Blumenbaum,” the magazine published by the Sacramento German Genealogy Society. An article about marriage customs in the mountains of Bavaria, “A Wedding in the Mountains,” was an English language description of very similar customs to the ones I was struggling to understand. In addition to the text, it reproduced pictures from a little book called “A Hochzeit im Gebirg.”

The Engagement
As in the Hunsrück, the prospective bridegroom came to look over the property of the bride’s father and, if his proposal was accepted, the bride-to-be cooked her first meal for him. In Bavaria, this dish was called “Schmarrn”, a popular Bavarian specialty that is a cross between a pancake and an omelet. When it is cooked, it is cut up and sprinkled with powdered sugar.

Soon after the second announcement of the marriage banns were called in the church, the Hochzeitslader or wedding inviter began his rounds with the bridegroom. All the relatives had to be invited, and the father of the groom might travel along to make sure none of the distant relatives or acquaintances were missed. The Hochzeitlader’s hat was decorated with rosemary and a cluster of flowers. On his left arm he wore a circle of artificial flowers, and he carried a Hochzeit ramrod (the rod used to push down gunpowder into old-fashioned weapons). To show its peaceful purpose for this occasion, it was decorated with many colorful silk ribbons.












Kammerwagon (bedroom wagon) photo, Der Landkreis Regen in alten Ansichten

Shortly before the wedding ceremony, the bride’s possessions had to be transported to her new home. This was done with as much public display as possible, especially if the bride’s family was well to do. A wagon, loaded with furniture, linens, and whatever finery the bride was bringing to her home, was driven slowly through the village, giving everyone a chance to observe and comment.

The Wedding Day
The wedding itself usually took place in the late morning. As in Normandy and in the Hunsrück, there was a procession to the church, sometimes with musicians leading the way. The equivalent of today's bridesmaid and best man led the bride to the altar.

After the religious ceremony, the entire party made its way to the Gasthaus which, according to the article in “Der Blumenbaum,” was almost always located close by the church. Here a family would provide as fine a meal as their financial situation would allow. Those who were invited but who could not attend because of infirmity or farm duties were not overlooked. They received food packets, sent with friends or relatives and often wrapped in the women’s scarves.

After the wedding meal, it was time for the Hochzeitlader to perform his duties as master of ceremonies. The bride and groom usually sat at a special table that was covered with a white cloth. With them would be the Ehrenvater and Ehrenmutter. These were very honored guests, often a godparent or a grandparent of the bride or groom. The Hochzeitlader called the guests one by one to the table, announcing them with a polite phrase or sometimes a comic insult. There might be an appropriate flourish by the musicians as the family name was called, and guests were called in the order of their relationship to the bridal couple. Once at the table they would drink from the glasses of the bride and the groom and lay down the Mahlgeld, a contribution toward the expense of the meal as well as a wedding gift. Sometimes a well-to-do farmer would make a show of sprinkling just a few coppers or silver pennies in front of the bride and groom. As he turned away from the table he would surreptitiously slide his hand into his pocket, turn back to the table with his fist full of valuable Taler, pleased with his little joke.

When it is time for the dancing to begin, the newly married couple had the first dance. The Hochzeitlader was again in charge, deciding who, in turn, would be next to come to the dance floor. And he decided when it is time for the guests to go home. When he told the band to play the Rausschmeisser (literally translated it would be called "The Bouncer"), a piece of music that was known to everyone as the tune which ended the dancing, the celebration was over.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

November 11 - A Martini Celebration


Cover of
Mein erstes
Buch von
Sankt Martin
Text by Thomas Erne
Pictures by Susanne Kraus
Verlag Herder, 2001



November 11 is Veterans Day here in the U.S, a holiday for acknowledging the sacrifices made by our soldiers and to remind us of their bravery.

Germany and Austria also celebrate on November 11 but it is a different kind of holiday. It is a remembrance of Saint Martin of Tours and is known as Martinstag or Martini.

Saint Martin of Tours is not a saint that we here in the US associate with any kind of festival or custom. So when my genial landlord, Hans Dieter Jung, took me on a short tour of some of the small villages near Saarburg, I wasn't prepared for a lesson on unusual customs in the Rheinland. We had stopped at Hofgut Serrig, a farming community where natural farming and animal husbandry is practiced by workers with disabilities. As we passed a field of fat geese, Herr Jung said they wouldn’t be around much longer because it was almost Martini. “What is martini?” I asked, picturing a stemmed glass, wide rimmed, with a couple of olives. He explained that November 11 is Saint Martin’s Day or Martini. It is the time when geese lose their heads, literally. That didn’t seem a very nice way to celebrate a saint’s feast day but I didn’t say that – mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to put that thought into German.

With the help of my English speaking relative Edeltrud Heiser who lives in Trier, and some research on my own, I soon learned much more about St. Martin and the significance of this holiday which is a combination of our own celebrations of Halloween and Thanksgiving. I also found out why geese are so associated with this feast day. (Edeltrud gave me the gift of the children's book pictured above, "My First Book of Saint Martin")

St. Martin was born in about 336, the son of a Roman soldier. He too became a soldier in the Roman cavalry. One day a beggar approached Martin, begging for alms. Since he had nothing to give him, Martin drew his sword and cut his cloak in half. A legend grew that the beggar was Christ and that this caused Martin’s conversion to Christianity. As word of his holiness grew, the pope sent messengers to him, naming him Bishop of Tours. Martin, feeling unworthy, ran away and hid in a stable among a flock of geese. But the geese, recognizing his virtues, gave him away by cackling loudly. One could draw the conclusion that Saint Martin took his revenge on them, silencing them each year on his feast day.

A more practical explanation is that on the feast of St. Martin, November 11, it was the time of slaughter for the farm animals, including the geese. Farmers could ill afford to feed all of their poultry during the winter months when the time for food foraging in the woodlots and pastures was ended. It was also the time that taxes were due, and a fat goose or two to the landlord was, in many places, accepted as payment in kind. And if a family could afford to do so, a roast goose was often the holiday fare on Martini. According to an article called ""Eat a fat goose on St. Martin's Day"" in Der Blumenbaum, Nov/Dec. 2002, many restaurants in Germany and Austria still feature Martinsgans (Martin goose) on their menus in late autumn and especially on St. Martin's Day.

The Blumenbaum article went on to say that St. Martin's Day was an important date for shepherds, who considered St. Martin to be their patron saint. His day coincided with the date that their contracts ended. At this time they could bargain for better terms for the coming year of service. By custom, they would blow their horns until their masters arrived to meet with them, at which time the masters were presented with a decorated branch or Martinsgerte. Then the shepherds would recite rhymes for which they received presents.

Saint Martin's day was not just for the shepherds or the landlords. It marked the coming of winter; now people could celebrate the end of harvesting and wine making and look forward to rest from their heaviest labors. For workers and the poor it was a time when they had a chance to enjoy some of the bounty of the harvest. And it would be the last celebration before the solemn season of Advent and the fasting which would not end until Christmas.

The little children would parade through the villages in the evening of St. Martin’s Day, carrying hollowed out pumpkins or turnips with bizarre carved faces. It was customary for them to sing St. Martin songs or “Martinslieder” and recite rhymes in return for small presents. The lantern procession is still observed today but now there are paper lanterns in various shapes and sizes. The children sing a St. Martin's Day song such as this:

"I go with my lantern
And my lantern goes with me.
Up above the stars are shining,
Down here we're shining.
The rooster, he crows; the cat meows.
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum.
The rooster, he crows; the cat meows.
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum."

"I go with my lantern
And my lantern goes with me.
Up above the stars are shining,
Down here we're shining.
St. Martin, he marches on.
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum.
St. Martin, he marches on.
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum."

"I go with my lantern
And my lantern goes with me.
Up above the stars are shining,
Down here we're shining.
Lantern light, don't go out on me!
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum.
Lantern light, don't go out on me!
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum."

"I go with my lantern
And my lantern goes with me.
Up above the stars are shining,
Down here we're shining.
A sea of light in honor of Martin.
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum.
A sea of light in honor of Martin.
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum."

"I go with my lantern
And my lantern goes with me.
Up above the stars are shining,
Down here we're shining.
My light is out,
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum.
We're going home,
Rabimmel, rabammel, rabum."

Happy St. Martin's Day to those of you who read this on November 11!