Taales Frrom Beelgium Once upon a time, there lived an innkeeper in the Belgian city of Geel. He was a happy man. His inn was popular and provided ample income for him to take care of his wife and young son. One cold autumn night, however, the innkeeper and his wife were suddenly awoken by the sound of their son crying like he had never done before. When they entered the young boy’s room, they found him writhing in pain, drenched in sweat, repeating these same words over and over again; ‘‘There’s a man on the chest! A man dressed in black!’’ The son pointed to a heavy wooden chest in the corner of the room, but there was nothing to see. ‘‘There’s a cat in my bed! A black cat in my bed!’’ As she did not see any cats, the wife thought it might be a fever dream, so she went to fetch something for the pain and fever. It seemed to help a little bit and the boy sank back into an uneasy sleep. The following night, the same thing happened. Once again, the innkeeper and his wife woke up to their son’s cries and once again, the managed to pacify him just enough to go back to sleep, after searching his room for anything unusual. Night after night, this continued and night after night, the boy was terrorised by fever dreams. No doctor or priest managed to heal him, so as a final resort, the innkeeper visited the abbey of Tongerlo. Even before his arrival, strange things happened. The walk, which usually took about half an hour, now took the innkeeper two hours. He became extremely wary and got lost twice. Once he finally arrived, a monk explained to him that his son had been cursed by a witch. He told the innkeeper the witch’s name but warned him never to speak to them. He gave him a talisman and the orders to spend the entirety of the first night in prayer. That night, the innkeeper was praying in his empty inn when he suddenly heard a sound. At midnight exactly, the door of his inn creaked open and in came the black cat. The innkeeper froze in fear as he saw the slender feline approaching him, but then suddenly, it stopped. It could not get past the talisman! As soon as it looked down to see what lay in front of her, it sprinted out of the inn. Never again did the innkeeper and his wife see the cat. Their son was healed by the morning of the following day and grew up to be a strong and healthy man. *** In Flemish folklore, the cat, especially the black cat, is known as a creature of mystery whose soft, padded paws tread the narrow line between good and evil. They are shapeshifters, tricksters with ties to hidden worlds unknown to us. Often, as in the story recounted above, they are not true cats, but something else in disguise. Witches supposedly shapeshifted as cats to go out and cause mayhem without being noticed, making people sick, stealing children or even killing people. The disguise was not foolproof, however, as injuries sustained in cat form carried over to the human form of the witch, so when people suspected a cat of being a witch and beat or burned it, the witch would be easily recognised by their injuries. Other times, water devils and other spirits were said to appear to their prey as cute cats stuck in swamps, rivers or other treacherous locations. They were impossible to catch, so whoever tried to save them would get stuck in the swamp or fall into the river. At other times, they would hinder the paths of travellers or harass drunks. Although these stories are usually based on local ‘sightings’ and every region has its own tales, one trickster spirit named ‘Kludde’ is known in the entirety of Flanders. This spirit, one of whose many disguises is the form of a black cat, hides under bridges, ready to pounce at passers-by and climb on their shoulders, weighing them down for the rest of the journey. Still, not all supernatural cats were viewed as evil. Some of them just wanted to be left alone, only bothering those who bothered them first. There are numerous tales of cats warning those with intentions to hurt them, not to test their powers, for they are not as helpless as they seem and this would only result in unnecessary damage. One could even view them as protectors of cat- and witchkind, as senseless violence against cats was often followed with brutal consequences for the perpetrators, including sickness, curses and even death. Although it is difficult to pinpoint these tales in time and place exactly, certain recurring themes might give us a clue as to how they originated. Some were cautionary tales, warning people to not venture into swamps or go to close to the river, whilst others, like the story of the innkeeper, encourage piety and frequent prayer. Others appear a little less moralising and more so like the tales of a drunken journey home, during which getting lost or stumbling around as if carrying a weight on one’s back are not unlikely occurrences. Bespectacled with beer goggles, a cat could easily become something greater and of course, a bit of added sensation is always required when recounting stories. These tall tales formed a part of oral traditions that continued well into the 19th century, but as superstitions died, fewer stories were told and those that were not recorded went lost. Despite the fleeting nature of Flemish folk tales, one tradition continues that keeps some of the mystery alive. Every three years, on the second Sunday of May, the city of Ypres celebrates its Cat Festival. There are three main parts to this event, the first of which is a parade with floats, dancers, musicians, costumed characters and giants. It is divided into five ‘chapters’, the first of which addresses the worship of cats as supernatural creatures throughout history. Then follows a brief history of Ypres, as re-enacted by people in historical costume. This is followed by a show about cats in language and legends, which includes depictions of sayings and popular stories. After this comes a celebration of cats around the world. The parade is closed with a chapter devoted to ‘the cats of Ypres’, featuring recurring characters such as the giants ‘Minneke Poes’ (‘Minneke’ being a common pet name for cats), her husband ‘Cieper’ and most recently their five kittens. The second main event, and perhaps the strange tradition for which the city is most known, is the throwing of cats. After the parade, the city jester climbs up the belfry of the Cloth Hall and throws stuffed toy cats into the crowd waiting below. The exact story behind this tradition remains unconfirmed, but the accepted version is that it was a way of getting rid of excessive mousers from the Cloth Hall after its goods were sold in spring. Mice did severe damage to the wool and broadcloth stored here, so cats were purchased to keep the mouse population in check. Of course, these cats reproduced rapidly and soon overcrowded the halls. When exactly the practice of throwing cats from city towers started is difficult to
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