THE PROCESSION TO THE NOSETTA

Today we present a chapter from the book "Traditions in the St. Augustine Village," which tells the story of one of the most heartfelt celebrations in our land: the procession to Nosetta. In 1836, during the cholera epidemic, the inhabitants of St. Augustine made a vow to Our Lady of the Nosetta (or of the Rosary), giving rise to an annual procession that has united the community in a moment of prayer and solidarity for nearly two centuries.
We decided to tell the story because it represents not only a religious rite, but also a deep link between past and present, a symbol of identity and memory of our area, to be handed down to future generations.

“ Exsurge Christe adiuva nos ”

Arise, O Lord, and help us; and deliver us by the power of your name. O Lord, we have heard it with our ears; our fathers have passed it on to us.

At the time of cholera people were dying and the dying would not cease; our elders made a vow and finally sanity returned.

Glory be to the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, we fulfill the vow of our elders.

As it was in the beginning and now and forever: for ever and ever. Amen.

But you Lord, also help us!

Kyrie eleison

Christ have mercy 

Kyrie eleison!

And when the Sancta Maria was raised and the people sang: ora pro nobis, the little procession came out of church.

The Archpriest made reverence to the altar of the Virgin, and forcing his voice so that even those who were already on the way might hear, he proclaimed:

Sancte Micael,

Sancte Raphael,

Omnes sancti Angeli et Arcangeli,

 And the people answered: now, now, orate pro nobis.

By now the road leading to the Vô had been taken, and out of the houses came the women in black veils and the girls in white veils, for they had heard the call of the song, and they entered in bulk, lengthening the line now on one side, now on the other, while the invocation of all the Holy Apostles and Evangelists, Martyrs and Confessors, Monks and Anchorites, Virgins and Widows continued, all in order of precedence, for no one was to miss the count, for a vow was going to be taken.

At the windows were still the decorations and on the walls the garlands of paper flowers; the balloons that had been extinguished the previous evening seemed to be waiting for the rising of the new sun to revive. 

At the foot of the climb (1), by the funicular station, the litanies of the saints were interrupted to begin the laure-tanies, and they were sung three by three, alternating the choruses to catch their breath, because the climb was pulling a bit (2).

When they reached the little square in front of the chapel, all decked out, where Our Lady sported her golds (taken up as a sign of festivity), prayers were said for the sick and for intentions of cir-cstance, before singing an oremus and blessing people with the relic of the Blessed Virgin.

The line was reassembled, with the cross and the two chilosters in front, and everyone behind (that no one stayed up there, but everyone came down for Mass).

And the archpriest resumed the singing and the people responded.

Now the procession wound its way down Torno Street (3) in its full length: below, the city awoke from its slumber as the lake was cloaked in soft hues, shaking off the mist of night. One breathed in the pure morning air, in the first sunshine, giving thanks for the health that seemed to enter one's lungs and turn into prayer.

Viale Geno in 1930 

(1) Today's Via Madonnetta, which used to be called “Via Coloniola,” and before that “Strada Comunale per Blevio.”

(2) These are the litanies of Our Lady, called “Lauretane” because of the importance they had in the Shrine of Loreto, as it is already recorded in a document of 1531.

(3) The Torno Street is quite recent. At one time there was a mule track that went up from Coloniola Square to take the road at Crescione and continued to Torno. It was called “la strada vègia” as opposed to the “strada növa” which had a lower route and continued to Pognana. Some sixty years ago the Provincial Administration intervened to define the current route up to Bellagio. This was not, therefore, the route of the ancient procession. 

Ab omni malo,

libera nos Domine!

Ad omni peccato, a spiritu fornicationis

libera nos Domine!

The pollution of sin seemed impossible in the face of the enchantment of nature opening up beneath us. But even just the remembrance of past evils seemed to undermine such restful le-tizia.

A fulgure et tempestate

libera nos Domine,

A scourge terremotus

libera nos Domine,

A peste, fame et bello...

the three evils that more than any other afflict mankind, as in the distant years of the vow: scampacene o Signore!

And the prayer became deprecatory:

We pray to you for the mystery of your incarnation, your coming, your birth, for the cross and passion, death and burial, your holy resurrection, and your admirable ascension.

Libera nos Domine!

The bells festively rang out the first mass; already the roof of the church could be seen, and around the bend, the pilgrimage ended.

Ut ad veram penitentiam nos perducere digneris,

Ut animas nostras, fratrum, propinquorum et benefactorum nostrorum ab aeterna damnatione 

eripias,

Te rogamus, audi nos!

Mass began, at the altar of the Virgin: always in green vestments by the strict laws of the ancient liturgy. But whatever the Gospel of that Sunday “post Penthecosten” the homily invariably had to focus on cholera, the vow of our ancestors, the protection of Our Lady.

Throughout Sunday it was a coming and going of people, wreath in hand, from the village to the Little Chapel.

Like every solemn feast, this too had its eve.

When the evening Ave Maria sounded, as on the great feasts, I would walk along the “ Coloniola” to the Nosetta, for the recitation of the Rosary. On the way we would stop at the Cà rotta where ab immemorabili a little altar was prepared, amidst festoons of paper flowers and Venetian-style balloons: people were gathered for the recitation of the Angelus and then accompanied, to go up to the Madonnina.

On the way, decorations on the windows, green streamers, a few sandals and lit balloons: un luminéri per tutt el burg! At one time, I am told, the whole neighborhood, from the church to the Nosetta, was in great bustle and frequent small altars in doorways.

A worn mat and a tiny cushion waited for the Archpriest to kneel to begin the rosary. All around were people and luminaries everywhere.

Then, after the litany and farewell, it was back to the rectory: it was the Saturday before the second of July.

That year even some fireworks went up to warn the town of what was happening up there.

Then Torno Street was widened, the little square was eliminated, and the noise of cars overwhelmed the voices of those praying.

Another tradition was about to die out.

In 1831 a letter in print from the Bishop of Como Msgr. Giambattista Castelnuovo called for prayers and propitiatory services so that the Lord “would not allow these our quarters to be ravaged by the fierce disease” that had already manifested itself in many parts of Europe.

The I. R. Provincial Delegation and the Delegate Commission specially appointed by the Podesta, circulated a pamphlet designed to prevent, recognize and combat Cholera morbus. The Bishop himself urged the parish priests to spread it among the people.

They collected “offerings to prevent the disease and to succor those infected with it in the regrettable event that it should manifest itself,” indeed, for greater precaution, volunteers were invited to St. Anne's Hospital to be trained as nurses, again in the regrettable event that the epidemic should manifest itself.

The fact is that “that scourge which we have provoked by our sins and of which now turns the third year we were mercifully preserved, Cholera, now invaded our neighboring countries,” so the new Bishop of Como Msgr. Carlo Romanò, in 1833.

And a new pamphlet was circulated: Instructions on how to prevent and cure the Cholera Morbo before the arrival of the doctor.

 A Sanitary and Charity Regulation for the case of Cholera morbus breaking out in Como was printed and circulated by Podestà Primo Tatti.

The suburbs of Como had a total of 8189 inhabitants and were divided into four sections: that of S. Agostino (1642 inhabitants), would use the hospital of S. Giuliano; the others those of S. Anna and Gibellina.

 The church of S.Agostino in Como 

It was 1836 and it was in S. Agostino that the much-feared Asiatic disease manifested itself (4).

In the “mortuorum” register on April 21, we read the death of His Excellency the Prince of Carini, Don Vincenzo La Grua, aged 80, born in Palermo. The illustrious personage died in the Garganigo Hotel, No. 542. Cause of death: “diarrhea accompanied by vomiting.”

A note, in the margin, comments, “in the early days one was afraid to utter the name of Eastern Cholera. And yet you see in La Grua in what way the cause of death is marked.”

(4) St. Augustine was the hamlet of the launderers, where any epidemic could most easily occur, because of the “dirty laundry” that flowed in from all over the city

In the village of Coloniola from April 16 to September 7 died: 74 people, 44 males and 30 females (5). 

Don Domenico Ceresola was parish priest in Coloniola at that time, and he held the parish and the small diocesan seminary he had housed there at the behest of Bishop Bishop Giambattista Castelnuovo together.

His successor Fr. Maurizio Monti speaks of him as follows:

“On April 17, 1836 the eastern cholera began for the first time, and precisely here in the suburb of St. Augustine, Ceresola stood with Christian constancy near his flock, ready to minister spiritual relief. In this he was also wonderfully assisted by his good and holy vicar Sac. Filippo Favoni, who only a month preceded him to the grave. Those were times of trial and Ceresola sustained the ordeal and made a bad reception to those who advised him to give up the parish and retire to healthy places and preserve his life. As a valiant soldier he died on the battlefield. And this dying full of glory in the face of men and full of merit before God struck him with the Asiatic disease on July 29 of the said 1836. On St. Anne's Day (July 25) he celebrated mass for the last time and blessed his people tearfully. On the 5th day of the same July having by the express command of Bishop Romanò taken away from the church of St. Julian the Blessed Eucharist, because there was to be planted in the church a dispensary for the cholerous, that people mutinied and a host of women laid siege to the parish house and forced him to bring the Blessed Sacrament back to St. Julian.He was not to blame, and that notwithstanding, he was not spared from the mad plebs the contumelies.With such disgusts Ceresola approached death, but it is precisely by this path that one reaches paradise. Pedes mei ambulaverunt vias asperas.”

 (5) The first person fell ill on April 16, the 21st: first lethal case, as noted above.

A.P. VIII pr. 9: noted “in April deceased of disease 10; May 7; June 3; July 34; August 16; September 3; up to 7 n. 3; 20 n. 7; 40 n. 22; 80 n. 16.”

The epidemic manifested itself most violently. In the city 864 people were affected of whom 602 left their lives (6).

On April 24, the bishop dispenses the population from abstinence and fasting (7). The procession from the parish church to S. Annunziata and S. Agata, customary to be held on Pentecost Monday, is suspended. On June 25, the bishop forbade the sounding of the agony so as not to engender anguish in the population, and on July 5, in agreement with the civil authority, he ordered the Blessed Sacrament to be removed from the church of St. Julian's in order to use it as a shelter for the cholerous: with what followed and has already been reported. I think it superfluous to try to describe the mourning, the anguish, the desolation in the town and in the village.

“The laundresses, especially those of the Vò and the Nosetta made... a vow to go every year processionally, for the second Sunday in July, to visit the chapel of the B. Virgin of the Rosary at the Nosetta” (8).

Of this chapel, which originally stood on the land of Count Caresana, a parish place is written verbatim: “near the banks of the Vò” (9).

On October 6, 1836, Bishop Msgr. Carlo Romanò, sent a “Circular to the MM.RR. lords Parish Priests of the City and Diocese placed in the states of H.M.I.R.A.”

After recalling that “Divine Justice cannot be separated from Divine Mercy,” he called attention above very important objects of ministry by calling for the assistance of children orphaned by the Asian disease through works of Christian charity.

He also intimated a solemn “Te Deum” in every parish for the cessation of the scourge.

(6) Cf. Manual, 1846, ed. Lanzani.

(7) Cf. A.P. VIII, beta, pr. 2.

(8) Cf. A.P. Note of expenses and income for maintaining the chapel of the B. Vergine alla Nosetta (1837).

(9) Cf. “presso le rive del vò” May 15, 1962.

The jurisdiction of the parish priest of St'Antonino touched the hamlet of three municipalities: Sobborghi di Como, Camerlata and Corpi Santi and Brunate. At the extreme edge of the Corpi Santi already from ancient times was “the Nosetta villa adored with vines and set high (as may be believed) for recreation and solace of mortals: here are all around horti full of all sorti hortaggi and fruits for the benefit of the subject city of Como: Where immediately we come to: the mandarin who from all these lands (not to speak of the many villas which are elsewhere) and there derive abounding copies of all those goods, which the air and the earth produces, as sufficiently seems to me to have proved.”

As times changed we find there a small nucleus of farmhouses, and almost as a sentinel, a small chapel that opened toward the mountain, in which the Annunciation was painted in fresco in the interior, and on the exterior facade toward the lake.

When was this chapel built? I do not think an answer can be given. When Genio and the village were rewarded by cholera it became the object of the vow of an annual thanksgiving procession that began on July 9, 1837.

It is not far-fetched to think that the new archpriest, succeeding Don Pasquale Ceresa on the threshold of the new century and beloved by the borough this vow: the 9th had seen so many people die and in addition to the credit of the procession to the seminary in which he resided was in the charge of his colleague, Don Filippo Favoni. The horror of the disease and the vacation of the parish, the procession closed outside the seminary, forced the borough to assign to him, Don Maurizio Monti (the priest denounced to the Holy Office), the promise of a Nosetta and those chapels, not only outside but in each doubly sad.

The chapel at the Nosetta, in the edge of the creek, was dilapidated.

In that same year 1836, on September 10, the fabbriceri of the church of Sant'Antonio Clerici and Braghenti, wrote to an unidentified “Illustrissimo Signor Conte” asking to “cede a piece of land of the area of six to three perches, at that modest price he believed he was asking” in order to rebuild the little chapel, on an octagonal plan, a little away from that stream that threatened it with its floods.

A book that is both accounting and chronicle was opened: 1837:

Note of expenses and income for maintaining the Chapel of the B. Vergine alla Nosetta

The small road that led from the Vò to the Chapel was a badly paved lane and the archpriest made sure that the Municipal Administration would at least make it practicable: and from 1839 a significant reply from the Podestà of Como (confirmed by Marquis Cornaggia, who may have had to contribute to the expenses) in which he apologized for the delay of the work due to the sudden illness of the designer.

In 1855 he was missing from the living such Antonio Carcano who “gravely ill but of a most sound mind and free from any influence” subscribed in his own hand in the presence of two witnesses, a legacy of one thousand Milanese lire “for Our Lady of S.'Agostino alla Nosetta.”

Year by year they wished to preserve and duly record the offerings that were conceived at the Nosetta, as well as to restore the ancient project of the new little chapel, negotiations were resumed with Signor Conte, and without a promise ever being broken.

“Given on the day of July 24, 1856, the space of eight fathoms in framework to be estimated around the chapel of the Nosetta, to rebuild another chapel in octagonal form. To master builder Bonegana immediately committed to occupy the land by beginning the foundations. On Friday, said July 25, he could not, because of bad weather, begin it. On Saturday, said July 26, I withdrew the permit of the eight arms for the factory and suspended all work.”

Signed: M. Monti - Parish priest.

On the thirteenth the usual procession had taken place and so many hopes had been born: thirteen days later everything was over, and forever.

In 1858, the old archpriest who had given so much impetus to devotion in the ancient Little Chapel left written:

“The Chapel of the Nosetta “ab immemorabili” is maintained by the limosine of the Borghigiani of St. Augustine. And if the walls break down, or the roofs make water, it is always with the aforementioned limosine that the expenses are paid and so of the rest. So the chapel is public right and the property of the Borgo di St'Agostino.”

 Among other things we read, “The miserable state in which the chapel of the Nosetta was reduced due to deficient maintenance, moved the pity of the Ritter family who offered to repair it.”

The expense was large and the generous family contributed more than half of what was needed.

 “It also deserves to be noted here that the Borghigiani always used, in their devotion, the Chapel without depending now on anyone.

Therefore being the key at the Carena Factor must be considered for the simple convenience of the devotees.”

The Count died and so did the Fattore; it is well known that the cadastral map is only indicative and does not bear witness. However, when the Carena property was alienated and the custodians of the keys refused to hand them back to the archpriest saying that the “Chapel was their property,” one really had to claim ownership of the chapel perhaps with legal acts and canonical sanctions. But “to those who take away your cloak, do not refuse your tunic”: the chapel became de facto private patronage but the tradition died out.