Napoleon of Notting Hill

This blog title comes from the novel by G. K. Chesterton: in this long-overdue blog post, traveling to Siena Saturday of Holy Week corresponded with completing the riotous story that's hard to find in print in the U.S.

I traveled with the students of Christendom College to St. Catherine of Siena's hometown, being able to celebrate Mass at her home, still overseen by the Dominican Order she was a member of. Chesterton's story formed an appropriate backdrop to this hilltop medieval city, as the bright colors of the city's guilds, the Contrade, echo his reawakening of the vigor of a younger culture.

The Contrade form an active part of Sienese life, including the well-publicized horse race, the Palio, held twice over the summer. By coincidence, they were holding a procession and liturgy at the main cathedral (pictured at left) the afternoon we were in town.





Chesterton's account opens with a reference back to the brilliant yellow and red of the old Nicaraguan flag--colors he would then draw upon in his vivid story, and colors echoed in the multi-hued radiance of the Contrade.











17 Contrade are active in Siena today.






The procession of guilds was led by a drum and trumpet corps, which from a distance made one wonder if it was thunder or an approaching battle that was heard.










The orange banner to the left belongs to the Contrada del Leocorno, winner of the most recent Palio in August last year.




The horse race involves several laps around the city's central square, shaped to reflect Mary's mantle, a garment which never really envisioned horse racing in its origin.











Thus there are a number of unexpected sharp turns below this city hall.





Our students decided to re-create this splendid pageant, and with several banners they had purchased, engaged in a foot race around the square.













As official time-keeper I monitored their approach down this final stretch.




No horses were harmed in this horsing around on our part, though the banner of the snail engaged in a speed not inherent to the species.



















A glimpse at our morning chapel, where we celebrated Mass at the home of Saint Catherine, who called the Pope back from France to live in his rightful city of Rome.