from “Notas Históricas da Calheta”
These festivals begin on the Sunday in albis and end on Trinity Sunday. They are founded solely on the goal of practicing charity, and their public displays—rural festivities, processions, and worship of the Divine Paraclete—derive from the circumstances of their origin, maintained by tradition.
On each of the Sundays from Easter to Pentecost, the crown, banner, and the twelve rods are taken to the house of the mordomo (or “cavalier”) of the dinner, where they remain during the week. There, at night, they recite the Rosary. The people attach symbolic meaning to those rods: twelve stands for the twelve apostles, and of those rods, the four thickest naturally represent the four Evangelists. In the processions, they are preferably distributed among the most esteemed guests.
The dinner is an individual commitment in fulfillment of a vow that has happily been discharged. It is carried out by distributing to each of twelve poor people an alms of bread, meat, and wine on the Saturday preceding the coroação (crowning). This is the standard practice; however, if the mordomo is wealthy or has come from the United States, wishing to show generosity or put on a grand display, a far greater number of people receive these alms. The alms generally consist of up to two kilograms of meat, a one-kilogram loaf of bread known as pão de testa, and half a liter of wine.
In the mordomo’s house, the room where the holy emblems are placed is decorated according to that person’s resources. Usually, an altar is set up with several steps, decorated with flower vases, arches of raw cotton, silk ribbons, gold cords, jewels, and the proper table for candles. The walls are covered with clean sheets and bedspreads, as is the ceiling, where, against a background of white or pink cloth, a paper dove in gold or silver stands out with outstretched wings. In one corner are the banner and the rods—eight red and four green.
The espadim (small sword) of the constable, which is always carried by a child, rests on the altar beside the crown. The recitation of the Rosary in the Holy Spirit houses is generally led by a priest, or, in his absence, by a person skilled in doing so.
In the first quarter of the last century, a church hymn became popular here, translated into excellent four-line stanzas, with music of an ancient flavor. It came from São Miguel, where it was sung by the nuns of the Convent of Esperança in the city of Ponta Delgada. We reproduce it further on.
Later, another Holy Spirit hymn also became widespread—its lyrics written by Read Cabral and its music by Jacinto Inácio Cabral, the chapel master of that city’s main church. This hymn is sung less frequently because it is more scholarly.
On the Sunday of the festival, a “folia” group composed of three singers—carrying its banner and drum—goes to have lunch with the mordomo (steward). In earlier times, this folia was a municipal appointment, responsible for accompanying the council members to the church when they went to attend the King’s festivities, for which they received an annual payment of 160 réis.
Meanwhile, the guests arrive to form a procession toward the church, where, always preceded by a short sung Mass—called the “Missa das Sopas”—the coroação (crowning) takes place. After the sung Mass, sometimes accompanied by a sermon (all at the mordomo’s expense), the mordomo kneels on the first step of the main chapel to receive on his head the crown, which has been placed among flowers and lights on the altar or, more often, on the Gospel-side credence table. He also receives the scepter on his left arm and is sprinkled with holy water, while the officiant—incensing him with the thurible and wearing the capa de asperges—solemnly intones the Veni, Creator.
After this, everyone processes to the mordomo’s house, led by the folia at the front and accompanied by the clergy, who along the way chant the Magnificat in the fifth mode of Gregorian chant. This takes place amid the ringing of bells, the bursting of fireworks, and, when available, triumphant hymns or marches performed by local philharmonic bands.
All along the route—and already in the church after the coronation—handfuls of confetti shower down onto the crown and the head of the newly crowned mordomo, thrown by the guest who carried the crown to the church on a silver or crystal platter. This tribute to the mordomo delights the children, who jostle one another, bending down to gather the scattered sweets from the ground. It is worth noting that both the flag-bearer and the person carrying the crown walk inside a square formed by the rods, which the guests—holding them—join at the ends. The highest honor that can be granted to a young man of these parishes is, in such circumstances, to entrust him with carrying the flag, which leads the procession. They lift and unfurl it to the breeze with tremendous pride and elegance; and because of the prestige involved, misunderstandings can arise, sometimes causing rifts or even the end of friendships—a sign of how much importance this carries.
At the mordomo’s home, a meal is served to the guests—humble or lavish, depending on the family’s means. In olden days, this banquet was offered only to the poor, typically twelve people; hence it was called the jantar (“dinner”), which was the sole requirement of the vow.
During breaks in the meal or between toasts, the folia performs its songs, which one can sometimes identify as having erudite and artistic roots by how they emphasize perfect tonic and fifth chords, along with the corresponding minor keys. Occasionally, they move into common time in a major third, reminiscent of motets of bygone eras. But today, the folia music is nearly devoid of art and often considered unpleasant, having lost its traditional singing style. Commonly, they sing in octaves with rough modulations that recall “gypsy” songs and annoy the listener. Where philharmonic bands have been established, the folias—no longer needed—die out.
In earlier days, it was customary for dishes to be brought to the table still covered, with their contents neither shown nor described, leaving it to the folia singers—through specially composed or improvised verses—to reveal or guess what was inside the tureens, sauceboats, bottles, or small bowls. At these banquets, there are the obligatory toasts made by the carver and the other diners to the mordomos and their families, whether present or absent in America—sometimes those absent relatives are the ones who sponsor the banquet. They even toast the cooks, without forgetting the clergy present or the folia.
Most guests, however, instead of drinking, loudly strike their knives against their plates or glasses in a sign of acclaim. The greater the esteem they wish to convey to those being honored, the more forceful, enthusiastic, and prolonged the rattling. On these occasions, the folia’s drum also takes part, drumming cheerfully as a few fireworks go off in the street.
Sometimes, mordomos who are overcome with emotion while thanking everyone for the toasts end up saying the opposite of what they intended. Thus, they may slip and utter something like: “I thank and drink to the health of all who had the honor of accompanying me.”
Between lunch and dinner, soup tureens may be distributed among neighboring homes—sometimes to all the couples in the next village—as an expression of generosity or a kindly gesture from the mordomia.
After the banquet, there almost always follows a transfer of the crown—now adorned—to the home of the mordomo for the following Sunday.
And so it goes until Pentecost.
When, in a given year, there are more vow-sponsored dinners than usual, coronations are held on holy days and even after Corpus Christi. On the other hand, if the necessary number of sponsors is not met, clubs or societies are formed—sometimes by groups of women—who, by pooling their resources, carry out the usual festivities so that “the crown does not remain on the platter.”
The mordomo for Pentecost Sunday assumes greater responsibilities.
In older times, this obligation was assigned by drawing lots. Whomever was chosen was called the cabeça de peloiro—just as in municipal councils—thus forming what was known as the império dos nobres (“empire of the nobles”). This role was invariably taken on by the wealthiest, most distinguished households of the respective parishes.
On the Friday before Pentecost, at the invitation of the “emperor,” nearly all the men of the parish would go into the hills to bring down the livestock to be slaughtered—usually two or three oxen, valued at about 150,000 réis in total.
They decorated the animals with roses, placed arches of greenery and flowers on their horns, and led them—unrestrained—at the front of the procession. Following these came carts carrying bread and trunks borne by porters, filled with sweets for use with the crown in the império.
Closing the procession were groups of viola and fiddle players, singers, and guests. On Saturday, in the town square—after a solemn blessing—alms would be distributed.
On Sunday, there would be the festival Mass and the coronation, with the emblems brought to a storage house near the church—called the copeira, teatro, or cadafalso. The crown stayed there for veneration until midday, placed on the altar’s throne; as for the banner, part of its staff was inserted inside the cadafalso, the rest protruding through a window to the outside of the building.
After dinner—attended by virtually all the local gentry—the “emperor” would send to the copeira large loaves of bread, platters of stewed meat, a roasted kid, wine, and sweets, to honor any outsider to the parish who happened by and lingered at the festival, or else to be distributed among the poor, the elderly, or children who always came from neighboring parishes.
(1) In some areas, the “emperor” in question was chosen by the banquet guests at the time of the toasts, through a process that was somewhat refined and highly flattering to the chosen individual. After conferring privately, they agreed on a nominee with no objections, then placed before the designated guest a glass containing a rose. That was the invitation, which was always accepted as an honor and a mark of distinction.
(2) The flag’s alferes (ensign) was in charge of serving these dishes, hence he was called Senhor Trinchante (“Carver”), and had to spend the entire afternoon in the copeira. Today, that role may be filled by anyone the mordomos trust.
In the afternoon, at three o’clock, the serviço da coroa (crown service) begins, featuring sweets, cavacas, argolas, pão‐leve, and other pastries in fanciful shapes. For this occasion, five of the finest young men—called andadores, passeadores, or cavaleiros (literally “walkers,” “strollers,” or “horsemen”), reflecting the role they play—dress themselves in extremely fine cloths, adorned with flowers and gold, draped over their shoulders or worn crosswise (a tiracolo). Leaving the mordomo’s house, each carries a dish of sweets in one hand and, in the other, a green rod decorated at the top with a bunch of artificial flowers from which silk ribbons dangle. The middle part of the rod is left bare so they can still carry the plates; they walk in line, preceded by the folia (the band or singing group), until they reach the entrance of the cadafalso (raised platform or canopy). There, after a very deep bow (reverência máxima), they disperse throughout the festival grounds (arraial), offering the dish of sweets to the cabeça‐de‐casal (head of household) or the family’s patriarch. Thus, they spend the entire afternoon distributing sweets.
Simultaneously, the arraial offers various other forms of entertainment: bandos (groups singing loas), ribbon dances, arches of clubs, the pau da mão (a local festive pole or game), cavalhadas (costumed or equestrian parades), open‐air comedies, and descantes à viola (folk songs accompanied by a guitar‐like instrument called a viola). These amusements and festivities in the arraial are fewer nowadays, largely due to emigration: new businesses and trades are scarce, prompting the youth to leave. In other places, late in the afternoon, the distribution of pastries called vésperas also takes place among the people, because that is the customary hour to share them.
These vésperas are made of leavened dough, pricked or scalloped around the circumference, and decorated with embossed motifs on one side, representing a crown, a dove, a cross, or a flower.(1) Each family receives as many pastries—doubled—as there are members in that family (two pastries for each person). Distribution is based on a small slip of paper indicating the number of people in the household and whether or not they contributed wine for the império (the Holy Spirit “empire” or feast). Those who subscribed to supply wine receive, in turn, three deciliters of wine for each family member. By the same process, a covihete (a small container or hamper) of well‐cured leather is likewise distributed.
If a family did not bring wine to the império, they still receive some pastries; there are also a few pastries set aside to be divided into small portions for the populace.
The families in one part of the parish bring the vésperas to the império (the Holy Spirit house) on Pentecost Sunday, beautifully adorned with flowers, placed on trays or in white cloth sacks, at the rate of about fifty pastries total— for which they require three “alqueires” (local measures) of wheat (the farmer’s share) or 54 liters of cereal. The families from the other part of the parish must provide the vésperas to be distributed to the people on Trinity Sunday.
Such festivals are essentially similar to those of Pentecost, except they fall under the responsibility of individuals known as the Sociedade dos dez (“Society of Ten”). The vésperas collected are then divided proportionally among the couples who delivered them to the império. Near the end of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth, we read of the zeal and enthusiasm of Captain António Dias da Cunha, a wealthy resident of Calheta, who sent a basket of cheeses and eight hundred pastries to the império every year. He died around 1809. The person in charge of receiving and distributing the vésperas at the império is called Sr. Juiz Conservador (Mr. Conservator Judge).
Until not long ago, seafaring folk also held their own festival on the Monday of the Holy Spirit, which they called dar as suas mesas (“to set their tables”). Each fishing or coastal‐trade crew set up its table of food in the town square— usually stewed meat, bread, and wine— which they distributed freely to all those present, after receiving a blessing from the parish priest. They used profits from their fishing or short‐distance shipping routes, or else a small portion of their wages, which they referred to as the quinhão do santo (the Saint’s share), to fund these expenses.
(1) A cruz dos chavões is the Cross of the Order of Christ.
(Footnote from the original text)
It appears to be a vestige of the original vow—if not the vow itself—undertaken out of mercy.
Paying the expenses of the bodo (banquet) at Pentecost is called dar o gasto (“footing the bill”), and rightly so, since these costs are far more substantial than those for ordinary dinners.
On the Sundays of the Holy Spirit and Trinity Sunday, once the festivities in the arraial (festival grounds) were over, there was the distribution of the goat that had been taken to the copeira. That was the young men’s celebration! As soon as Senhor Trinchante appeared in the square with the serving tray, you could hear cries of “meh!… meh!…” from all sides, as people rushed to seize the roast. And after much jostling—advancing and retreating—the piece would be ripped apart, some getting one portion, others another, amid wild clamor, which grew even louder when the goat’s head turned out to be the last piece snatched up. Whoever managed to grab it was carried off in a sort of triumph, with the youngsters chanting repeatedly: “bil-ró… bil-ró… bil-ró…”
On the Monday of the Holy Spirit, the day’s revelries were heightened by the fact that each group had its own drum and formed its own folia (musical troupe), everyone knowing how to sing their respective songs. In addition, they sang the “rimance” ballads—A ermida no mar, Dona Silvana, A marinheira, among others mentioned in songbooks. The musical notation for these rimances has been completely lost.
In some parts of this island, instead of pastries, they bring to the império pão de testa; and in Topo, besides pastries, they also bring coscorões, a type of fried dough (similar to filhós), bland in taste, made with flour and butter.
It is worth noting that often, instead of crowning a mordomo on Trinity Sunday, they would crown the image of Our Lady, processing it to the império. That explains why some of the foliões’ verses are addressed to the Virgin. In general, each parish or subordinate parish has just one império, and everything proceeds in accordance with oral tradition, without formal confraternities or statutes, following the customs established since the time of the earliest settlers.
