The rural custom of electing a May Queen among the country belles is,
I understand, still practised in some parts of Spain. The name of
_Maia_, given to the handsomest lass of the village, who, decorated
with garlands of flowers, leads the dances in which the young people
spend the day, shews how little that ceremony has varied since the
time of the Romans. The villagers, in other provinces, declare their
love by planting, during the preceding night, a large bough or a
sapling, decked with flowers, before the doors of their sweethearts.
As most of our ancient church festivals were contrived as substitutes
for the Pagan rites, which the Christian priesthood could not
otherwise eradicate, we still have some remnants of the sanctified
_May-pole_ in the little crosses, which the children ornament with
flowers, and place upon tables, holding as many lighted tapers as,
from the contributions of their friends, they can afford to buy.
I have heard that the children at Cambridge dress up a figure called
the _May-lady_, and setting it upon a table, beg money of the
passengers. The difference between this and the analogous Spanish
custom arose, in all probability, from the respective prevalence in
either country of the _May-pole_, or the _Maia_. A figure of the
Virgin, which the Reformation has reduced to a nameless as well as
shapeless puppet, took place of the latter, while the cross was
employed to banish the former. I am inclined to believe that the
illuminated grottos of oyster-shells, for which the London children
beg about the streets, are the representatives of some Catholic
emblem, which had its day as a substitute for a more classical idol.
I was struck in London with the similarity of the plea which the
children of both countries urge in order to obtain a halfpenny. The
“it is but once a year, sir!” often reminded me of the
La Cruz de Mayo
que no come ni bebe
en todo el año.
The Cross of May
Remember pray,
Which fasts a year and feasts a day.