Ypres, City of Cats
Ask someone from Ypres about their city, and chances are they’ll start talking about cats—and that’s no coincidence. Today, everyone knows about the Cat Parade, which winds its way through the streets every three years on the second Sunday in May. But if you really want to know the story of Ypres and its cats, you have to go back in time—to a curious medieval custom that you’d hardly believe today and that didn’t make a single cat happy.
Watch out, cat from above!
The earliest reference can be found in a city account from 1410–1420. In it, a Ypres clerk recorded an expense “when the cat was thrown.” But what did he mean? He was referring to the annual ritual in which, during the big annual fair, several cats were thrown from the Belfry tower.
Why did the people of Ypres do that? We don’t know for sure. But Ypres was certainly not the only place where cats were made to pay the price. In many places across Europe, cats were the scapegoats. For example, in Paris on June 24—marking the start of the Feast of St. John in honor of John the Baptist—cats were burned alive. In Scotland, cats were boiled alive. Closer to home, in Wervik, people hung them in jars from a tree and smashed the jars.
In the Middle Ages, the cat had a particularly bad reputation. They were associated with witches, the devil, and other evil forces. Chasing away a cat was believed to chase away evil as well—at least that’s what people used to think. And that worked out well in Ypres, because the cat-throwing event coincided with the big annual fair. Merchants from all over Europe gathered there to view fabrics, do business, and make new contacts. By driving away the cat—and with it, evil—people hoped for a successful annual fair and a prosperous year.
A Tenacious Tradition
A cat is said to have nine lives, and apparently the same is true of the cat-throwing ritual. While similar rituals disappeared elsewhere, the custom persisted in Ypres for a remarkably long time. During the Revolt, at the end of the sixteenth century, the Protestants abolished it. It also lay dormant for a time in the eighteenth century, perhaps under pressure from the Dutch garrison. But whenever they could, the people of Ypres happily resumed the practice until 1817. That year, the last living cat fell from the tower.
Plush in Power
After 1817, the only remnant of the old Cat Festivals was the carillon performance on Cat Wednesday. Then came World War I, and Ypres lay in ruins. It wasn’t until after the city’s reconstruction, spurred on by Mayor Jan Vanderghote, that the old tradition was revived. This time, fortunately, with plush cats.
March 13, 1938, was the big day. The day began early with a bicycle race, the Cat Race. Then music filled the streets as a small procession, featuring the city giant Goliath and the city jester, made its way to the belfry. To the sound of trumpets, the jester climbed to the top, and high above the Grote Markt, he threw the black cats down, amid a shower of red and white paper confetti. The Cat Parade was born. It was still small back then, but full of enthusiasm.
During World War II, the cat-throwing tradition came to a halt once again. But as early as March 17, 1946, the jester was back atop the tower, and the plush kittens flew into the crowd once more.
From a Little Parade to A PARADE
A small procession and some flying cats… Fun, Vanderghote thought, but he envisioned something bigger. He dreamed of a real, full-fledged Cat Parade. When Albert Dehem became mayor in 1954, he took over not only the torch but also that dream. He gathered a team of enthusiasts around him, including Octaaf Mus, Daniël Merlevede, Adhemar Vandroemme, Antoon Vander Plaetse, and artist Frans Van Immerseel. Van Immerseel designed masks and floats, and costumes were made for no fewer than 1,500 participants. The entire city was bustling with activity.
On March 6, 1955, the second Sunday of Lent, the time had come: the first major Cat Parade. Alongside Goliath, a new giant joined the procession: the black tomcat Cieper. Pietje Pek, the devil, was also a must-have. The parade was followed by the burning of the witches on the Grote Markt, but the highlight was the throwing of cats from the Belfry Tower.
Mayor Dehem saw the parade as the key to putting devastated Ypres back on the map. The Cat Parade was meant to attract visitors and, in a pleasant way, foster a sense of connection to the city among guests and business associates. For Octaaf Mus, it was primarily about the people of Ypres themselves. After the war years, he wanted to restore their true “Ypres spirit.” Making costumes together, rehearsing together, marching together: a shared project that reconnected people with one another.
They were both proven right. Until the 1980s, Ypres was better known in Belgium for its cats than for its wartime history.
The Modern Cat Parade
What began in 1955 left everyone wanting more. Year after year, the cats danced through the streets, and Ypres just couldn’t get enough of it. In 1958, the whole country was in a festive mood for the World’s Fair in Brussels, and the Cat Parade graciously moved up a few months. That’s how it came to be held on the second Sunday in May—coincidentally or not, on Mother’s Day. Ever since, the cats and the moms have celebrated their special day together.
In 1985, Ypres welcomed a very special guest: Pope John Paul II. That year, the cats politely gave him priority, but the following year they were ready to shine once again. In 1991, a new rhythm took hold: that year’s parade was the last annual one and, at the same time, the first triennial edition. Waiting three years may seem like a long time, but trust us: it’s worth it every single time.
Meanwhile, the cat also quietly made its way into the heart of the city. In the Middle Ages, it was still chased away as a villain, but in the twentieth century, the black cat became one of the symbols of Ypres. Since 2021, three stone cats have also been looking down from the Belfry Tower on the Grote Markt. A fitting rehabilitation after all those centuries.
And the jester? Just look up at the Cloth Hall. There he stands, gilded and gleaming, with a cat in his hand—ready to throw it. In the meantime, he keeps practicing his throw, so be sure to look up carefully during the next Cat Parade… Maybe you’ll catch a cat!