The Washington herald., 1911-06-24
IN QUAINT OLD LUXEMBURG

Quaint old Luxemburg. which. upon
the death OF the present grand duke,
who is an ineurable paralytic. viii be
ruled by his daughter. the great powers
having signified their approval. Is the
scene annually Of a medieval bit OF
pageantry. It has been described as
the most curious spectacle in the world.
and those who spend Tuesday Of Wit
sun-week at the old abbey town Of
Echternach. in its environment of lofty
wood-clad hills. Will be rewarded by
one Of the most striking experiences Of
a lifetime.
II In the early dawn of Whit Tuesday
you are standing by the stone cross near
the bridge which spans the River Surg.
on the outskirts of Echternach, the
white road as far as you can see already
Is crowded with an on-marching host OF
pilgrims-farmers in clumsy carts drawn
by piow horses. the weli-to-do in smart
traps and motors, peasants on foot, young
men and maids on bicycles. an endless
stream of young and old. The day and
the procession are devoted to the English
st. Willibrod, who died In 73S From
France, Belgium. Holland. and Germany
the adjacent states, they come, many of
them footsore and exhausted with the
long nights travel. And as they reach
the stone cross all halt, swelling the
crowd, which before the sun has well
begun the days climb number thousands,
all hushed and full OF tense expectancy.
Suddenly across the bridge bells ring
out merry peal. A thrill runs through
the waiting thousands. Sounds Of music
reach the ear, and gay fiutter of BAN
ners greets the eye. Over the bridge Is
seen an approaching procession of white
surpliced priests. holding aloft banners
ana heralded by the town band. Half
way across the moss-grown bridge,
which has seen sixteen centuries OF life,
the procession halts. Its leader, q prelate
In gold and jeweled cape. raises his
hand in benedlctIon.
The gathered thousands fall on their
knees TO receive the bishops blessing and
to listen to his words OF exhortation, de-
livered first in German and then in
French. Courage" generally is his
theme, and an unquestioning faith Is the
protection of St wIllibrod. He concludes
his remarks with the words. Let US
begin; Holy Willibrod, pray for u.s."
AS one man the vast assembly cross
themselves and rise to their feet. With
amazing order and quickness the crowd
arranges itself into countless small pro-
cessions, each led by its own priest and
Its attendant musicians-a drummer, a
hageolet player, and piper. The long
queue unVSinds itself. the bells break
forth again in joyful clangor, a hundred
bands blare out their music. and the long
procession begins to wind over the
bridge into the town.
The air is fun Of catching. compell- !
Ing melody which makes the blood |
course through the veins and sets the |
feet itching to keep time to II. Under |
It's stimulus thousands Of feet begin to |
move. One, two, three-one, two-jump |
Three steps forward each pilgrim makes, |
then two backward. then a jump in the |
afr. 1t is maddening in its infection. |
beldames and tiny children, |
grave prelates and schoolboys, young |
girls and bearded patriarchs, all alike
oin In the dance; and as the music
Raxes faster and louder their dancing
abandoned, until all seem animated by
! perfect frenzy Of saltation.
Thus, through the sleepy old town
thousands dance their way, heraided by
lofty crucifix and floating banners,
md by 800 singers chanting the praises
II the saint. Then follow, in order, a
mall army of priests, the archbishop
md his dean, hundreds OF boys, Ieaping.
latless, and In their shirtsleeves, and
astly, the vast crowd of pilgrims. ten
Lbreast. clasping hands as they advance,
etire, and leap high In the air.
For three or four hours the leaplng
human tide flows on under the swelter-
ng sun, streaming with perspiration. un-
IL women fall faintIng In the road and
md strong men totter with fatigue. And
till there is no halt in the frenzy, ex-
-ltation lending strength to weary limbs.
At last the procession draws near to