Spanking the Holy Roman Empire for a day in Legnano, Italy

The 1000-strong parade prefaces the evening Palio horse race. Laced-out nobles march with peasants, clergy, and medieval archers, et al., with fire-spitters, clever critters and—oh, witches.

(Photo essay and bewitched video at bottom)

Two fire-spitters heat up last Sunday’s march.

Luca Oldrini’s raven is a star participant.

Eight-hundred-fifty years is a long time to rekindle victory in battle, as in the otherwise normal town of Legnano.

Italians have a long-festering beef with occupation (Charlemagne, France, Spain, Hapsburg, Nazi Germany), which centuries ago spawned a strong mistrust of outsiders yet forged fierce devotion to their neighboring own. These days anywhere in Italy, a simple barman spots a foreigner charging his IPhone without paying for a drink. He doesn’t seem to have noticed but he has. Clever observation in Italy is rooted to ancient habit.

Antiquity is reanimated annually in Legnano, where eight woo-woven noblewomen salute their people through reverent gesture, each graciously extending a right arm and flexing fingers skyward, with thumb tucked in, as if to say:

“Revel in your day. We are one.” In turn, respective knights thrust their swords in homage to townsfolk who beat back a Holy Roman Empire battalion belonging to Federico Barbarossa, on May 29, 1176 A.D.—four centuries after Charlemagne invaded north Italy.

No Artificial Intelligence is seen in the mostly stoic-faced procession, a day’s oxen-cart ride from Milan. Everything is made by hand, from vivid bouquets to catapults to cow-hide footwear. If a Hollywood casting director were looking for medieval extras, this is the place to come.

On the other hand, if red-carpet gala divas are your muse, don’t go. In Legnano, the gowns are much too practical. Stay away too if the thinking goes Near East culture is the only to favor long dress. Based on the embroidered cloth worn, medieval women were partial to headdress, as well.