Tulip. _Tulipa Gesneri._
Dedicated to _St. Philip_.
Red Campion. _Lychnis dioica rubra._
Red Bachelor’s Buttons. _Lychnis dioica plena._
Dedicated to _St. James_.
~May-Day.~
Hail! sacred thou to sacred joy,
To mirth and wine, sweet first of May!
To sports, which no grave cares alloy,
The sprightly dance, the festive play!
Hail! thou, of ever-circling time
That gracest still the ceaseless flow!
Bright blossom of the season’s prime,
Aye, hastening on to winter’s snow!
When first young Spring his angel face
On earth unveiled, and years of gold,
Gilt with pure ray man’s guileless race,
By law’s stern terrors uncontrolled.
Such was the soft and genial breeze
Mild Zephyr breathed on all around,
With grateful glee, to airs like these
Yielded its wealth th’ unlaboured ground.
So fresh, so fragrant is the gale,
Which o’er the islands of the blest
Sweeps; where nor aches the limbs assail,
Nor age’s peevish pains infest.
Where thy hushed groves, Elysium, sleep,
Such winds with whispered murmurs blow
So, where dull Lethe’s waters creep,
They heave, scarce heave the cypress-bough.
And such, when heaven with penal flame
Shall purge the globe, that golden day
Restoring, o’er man’s brightened frame
Haply such gale again shall play.
Hail! thou, the fleet year’s pride and prime!
Hail! day, which fame shall bid to bloom!
Hail! image of primeval time!
Hail! sample of a world to come!--
_Buchanan, by Langhorne._
In behalf of this ancient festival, a noble authoress contributes a
little “forget me not:”--
_The First of May_
Colin met Sylvia on the green,
Once on the charming first of May,
And shepherds ne’er tell false I ween,
Yet ’twas by chance the shepherds say
Colin he bow’d and blush’d, then said,
Will you, sweet maid, this first of May
Begin the dance by Colin led,
To make this quite his holiday?
Sylvia replied, I ne’er from home
Yet ventur’d, till this first of May;
It is not fit for maids to roam,
And make a shepherd’s holiday.
It is most fit, replied the youth,
That Sylvia should this first of May
By me be taught that love and truth
Can make of life a holiday.
_Lady Craven._
“We call,” says Mr. Leigh Hunt--“we call upon the admirers of the good
and beautiful to help us in ‘rescuing nature from obloquy.’ All you that
are lovers of nature in books,--lovers of music, painting, and
poetry,--lovers of sweet sounds, and odours, and colours, and all the
eloquent and happy face of the rural world with its eyes of
sunshine,--you, that are lovers of your species, of youth, and health,
and old age,--of manly strength in the manly, of nymph-like graces in
the female,--of air, of exercise, of happy currents in your veins,--of
the light in great Nature’s picture,--of all the gentle spiriting, the
loveliness, the luxury, that now stands under the smile of heaven,
silent and solitary as your fellow-creatures have left it,--go forth on
May-day, or on the earliest fine May morning, if that be not fine, and
pluck your flowers and your green boughs to adorn your rooms with, and
to show that you do not live in vain. These April rains (for May has not
yet come, according to the old style, which is the proper one of our
climate), these April rains are fetching forth the full luxury of the
trees and hedges;--by the next sunshine, all ‘the green weather,’ as a
little gladsome child called it, will have come again; the hedges will
be so many thick verdant walls, the fields mossy carpets, the trees
clothed to their finger-tips with foliage, the birds saturating the
woods with song. Come forth, come forth.”[120]
* * * * *
This was the great rural festival of our forefathers. Their hearts
responded merrily to the cheerfulness of the season. At the dawn of May
morning the lads and lasses left their towns and villages, and repairing
to the woodlands by sound of music, they gathered the _May_, or
blossomed branches of the trees, and bound them with wreaths of flowers;
then returning to their homes by sunrise, they decorated the lattices
and doors with the sweet-smelling spoil of their joyous journey, and
spent the remaining hours in sports and pastimes. Spenser’s “Shepherd’s
Calendar” poetically records these customs in a beautiful eclogue:--
Youths folke now flocken in every where
To gather May-buskets, and smelling breere;
And home they hasten, the postes to dight,
And all the kirke pillers, ere daylight,
With hawthorne buds, and sweet eglantine,
And girlonds of roses, and soppes in wine.
* * * * *
Siker this morrow, no longer ago,
I saw a shole of shepheards outgo
With singing and showting, and jolly cheere;
Before them yode a lustie tabrere,
That to the meynie a hornepipe plaid,
Whereto they dauncen eche one with his maide.
To see these folkes make such jovisaunce,
Made my hart after the pipe to daunce.
Tho’ to the greene-wood they speeden them all,
To fetchen home May with their musicall:
And home they bringen, in a royall throne,
Crowned as king; and his queen attone
Was Ladie Flora, on whom did attend
A faire flock of faeries, and a fresh bend
Of lovely nymphs. O, that I were there
To helpen the ladies their May-bush beare.
Forbear censure, gentle readers and kind hearers, for quotations from
poets, they have made the day especially their own; they are its
annalists. A poet’s invitation to his mistress to enjoy the festivity,
is historical; if he says to her, “together let us range,” he tells her
for what; and becomes a grave authority to the grave antiquary. The
sweetest of all British bards that sing of our customs, beautifully
illustrates the May-day of England:--
Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morne
Upon her wings presents the God unshorne.
See how Aurora throwes her faire
Fresh-quilted colours through the aire;
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herbe and tree.
Each flower has wept, and bow’d toward the east,
Above an houre since, yet you not drest,
Nay! not so much as out of bed;
When all the birds have matteyns seyd,
And sung their thankfull hymnes; ’tis sin,
Nay, profanation to keep in,
When as a thousand virgins on this day,
Spring sooner then the lark, to fetch in May.
Rise, and put on your foliage, and be seene
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and greene,
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gowne or haire;
Feare not, the leaves will strew
Gemms in abundance upon you;
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept.
Come, and receive them while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night;
And Titan on the eastern hill
Retires himselfe, or else stands still
Till you come forth. Wash, dresse, be brief in praying;
Few beads are best, when once we goe a Maying.
Come, my Corinna, come; and, comming, marke
How each field turns a street, each street a parke
Made green, and trimm’d with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a bough,
Or branch; each porch, each doore, ere this,
An arke, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove;
As if here were those cooler shades of love
Can such delights be in the street,
And open fields, and we not see’t?
Come, we’ll abroad, and let’s obay
The proclamation made for May:
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying
But, my Corinna, come, let’s goe a Maying.
There’s not a budding boy or girle, this day,
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
A deale of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorn laden home.
Some have dispatcht their cakes and creame
Before that we have left to dreame;
And some have wept, and woo’d, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth:
Many a green gown has been given;
Many a kisse, both odde and even;
Many a glance, too, has been sent
From out the eye, love’s firmament;
Many a jest told of the keye’s betraying
This night, and locks pickt; yet w’are not a Maying.
Come, let us goe, while we are in our prime
And take the harmlesse follie of the time.
We shall grow old apace and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our dayes run
As fast away as do’s the sunne;
And as a vapour, or a drop of raine
Once lost, can ne’r be found againe;
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade;
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drown’d with us in endless night.
Then, while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let’s goe a Maying.
_Herrick._
A gatherer of notices respecting our pastimes says, “The after-part of
_May_-day is chiefly spent in dancing round a tall Poll, which is called
a May Poll; which being placed in a convenient part of the village,
stands there, as it were consecrated to the Goddess of Flowers, without
the least violation offer’d to it, in the whole circle of the
year.”[121] One who was an implacable enemy to popular sports relates
the fetching in of “the May” from the woods. “But,” says he, “their
cheefest jewell they bring from thence is their Maie poole, whiche they.
bring home with greate veneration, as thus. They have twentie or fourtie
yoke of oxen, every oxe havyng a sweete nosegaie of flowers tyed on the
tippe of his hornes, and these oxen drawe home this Maie poole, which is
covered all over with flowers and hearbes, bounde rounde aboute with
stringes, from the top to the bottome, and sometyme painted with
variable colours, with twoo or three hundred men, women, and children
followyng it, with greate devotion. And thus beyng reared up, with
handkerchiefes and flagges streamyng on the toppe, they strawe the
grounde aboute, binde greene boughes about it, sett up Sommer haules,
Bowers, and Arbours hard by it. And then fall they to banquet and feast,
to leape and daunce aboute it, as the Heathen people did at the
dedication of their Idolles, whereof this is a perfect patterne, or
rather the thyng itself.”[122]
The May-pole is up,
Now give me the cup;
I’ll drink to the garlands around it;
But first unto those
Whose hands did compose
The glory of flowers that crown’d it.
_Herrick._
Another poet, and therefore no opponent to homely mirth on this festal
day, so describes part of its merriment as to make a beautiful
picture:--
I have seen _the Lady of the May_
_Set in an arbour_ (on a holy-day)
_Built by the May-pole, where the jocund swaines_
_Dance with the maidens_ to the bag-pipe’s straines,
When envious night commands them to be gone,
Call for the merry youngsters one by one,
And, for their well performance, soon disposes,
To this a garland interwove with roses,
To that a carved hooke, or well-wrought scrip;
Gracing another with her cherry lip;
To one her garter; to another, then,
A handkerchiefe, cast o’er and o’er again;
And none returneth emptie that hath spent
His paines to fill their rural merriment.
_Browne’s Pastorals._
A poet, who has not versified, (Mr. Washington Irving,) says, “I shall
never forget the delight I felt on first seeing a May-pole. It was on
the banks of the Dee, close by the picturesque old bridge that
stretches across the river from the quaint little city of Chester. I had
already been carried back into former days by the antiquities of that
venerable place; the examination of which is equal to turning over the
pages of a black-letter volume, or gazing on the pictures in Froissart.
The May-pole on the margin of that poetic stream completed the illusion.
My fancy adorned it with wreaths of flowers, and peopled the green bank
with all the dancing revelry of May-day. The mere sight of this May-pole
gave a glow to my feelings, and spread a charm over the country for the
rest of the day; and as I traversed a part of the fair plains of
Cheshire, and the beautiful borders of Wales, and looked from among
swelling hills down a long green valley, through which ‘the Deva wound
its wizard stream,’ my imagination turned all into a perfect
Arcadia.--One can readily imagine what a gay scene it must have been in
jolly old London, when the doors were decorated with flowering branches,
when every hat was decked with hawthorn; and Robin Hood, friar Tuck,
Maid Marian, the morris-dancers, and all the other fantastic masks and
revellers were performing their antics about the May-pole in every part
of the city. On this occasion we are told Robin Hood presided as Lord of
the May:--
“With coat of Lincoln green, and mantle too,
And horn of ivory mouth, and buckle bright,
And arrows winged with peacock-feathers light,
And trusty bow well gathered of the yew;
“whilst near him, crowned as Lady of the May, maid Marian,
“With eyes of blue,
Shining through dusk hair, like the stars of night,
And habited in pretty forest plight--
His green-wood beauty sits, young as the dew:
“and there, too, in a subsequent stage of the pageant, were
“The archer-men in green, with belt and bow,
Feasting on pheasant, river-fowl, and swan,
With Robin at their head, and Marian.
“I value every custom that tends to infuse poetical feeling into the
common people, and to sweeten and soften the rudeness of rustic manners,
without destroying their simplicity. Indeed it is to the decline of this
happy simplicity that the decline of this custom may be traced; and the
rural dance on the green, and the homely May-day pageant, have gradually
disappeared, in proportion as the peasantry have become expensive and
artificial in their pleasures, and too knowing for simple enjoyment.
Some attempts, indeed, have been made of late years, by men of both
taste and learning, to rally back the popular feeling to these standards
of primitive simplicity; but the time has gone by, the feeling has
become chilled by habits of gain and traffic; the country apes the
manners and amusements of the town, and little is heard of May-day at
present, except from the lamentations of authors, who sigh after it from
among the brick walls of the city.”
* * * * *
There will be opportunity in the course of this work to dilate somewhat
concerning the May-pole and the characters in the May-games, and
therefore little will be adduced at present as to the origin of
pastimes, which royalty itself delighted in, and corporations
patronized. For example of these honours to the festal day, an honest
gatherer of older chronicles shall relate in his own words, so much as
he acquaints us with:--
“In the moneth of May, namely on May day in the morning, every man,
except impediment, would walke into the sweet meddowes and green woods,
there to rejoyce their spirits with the beauty and savour of sweet
flowers, and with the harmonie of birds, praising God in their kinde.
And for example hereof, Edward Hall hath noted, that king Henry the
eighth, as in the third of his reigne, and divers other yeeres, so
namely in the seventh of his reigne, on May day in the morning, with
queene Katharine his wife, accompanied with many lords and ladies, rode
a Maying from Greenwich to the high ground of Shooters-hill: where as
they passed by the way, they espyed a company of tall yeomen, clothed
all in greene, with greene hoods, and with bowes and arrowes, to the
number of 200. One, being their chieftaine, was called Robin Hood, who
required the king and all his company to stay and see his men shoot:
whereunto the king granting, Robin Hood whistled, and all the 200
archers shot off, loosing all at once; and when he whistled againe, they
likewise shot againe: their arrows whistled by craft of the head, so
that the noise was strange and loud, which greatly delighted the king,
queene, and their company.
“Moreover, this Robin Hood desired the king and queene, with their
retinue, to enter the greene wood, where, in arbours made of boughes,
and deckt with flowers, they were set and served plentifully with
venison and wine, by Robin Hood and his meyny, to their great
contentment, and had other pageants and pastimes; as yee may read in my
said author.
“I find also, that in the month of May, the citizens of London (of all
estates) lightly in every parish, or sometimes two or three parishes
joyning together, had their severall Mayings, and did fetch in
May-poles, with divers warlike shewes, with good archers,
morice-dancers, and other devises for pastime all the day long; and
towards the evening, they had stage-plaies, and bonefires in the
streets.
“Of these Mayings, we read in the reign of Henry the sixth, that the
aldermen and sheriffes of London, being on May day at the bishop of
Londons wood in the parish of Stebunheath, and having there a
worshipfull dinner for themselves and other commers, Lydgate the poet,
that was a monk of Bury, sent to them by a pursivant a joyfull
commendation of that season, containing sixteene staves in meeter
royall, beginning thus:--
“Mighty Flora, goddesse of fresh flowers,
which clothed hath the soyle in lusty green,
Made buds to spring, with her sweet showers,
by influence of the sunne shine,
To doe pleasance of intent full cleane,
unto the states which now sit here,
Hath Ver downe seat her own daughter deare,
“Making the vertue, that dured in the root,
Called the vertue, the vertue vegetable,
for to transcend, most wholesome and most soote,
Into the top, this season so agreeable:
the bawmy liquor is so commendable,
That it rejoyceth with his fresh moisture,
man, beast, and fowle, and every creature,” &c.
Thus far hath our London historian conceived it good for his fellow
citizens to know.
* * * * *
Of the manner wherein a May game was anciently set forth, he who above
all writers contemporary with him could best devise it has “drawn out
the platform,” and exhibited the pageant, as performed by the household
servants and dependants of a baronial mansion in the fifteenth century.
This is the scene:--“In the front of the pavilion, a large square was
staked out, and fenced with ropes, to prevent the crowd from pressing
upon the performers, and interrupting the diversion; there were also two
bars at the bottom of the inclosure, through which the actors might pass
and repass, as occasion required.--_Six young men_ first entered the
square, clothed in jerkins of leather, with axes upon their shoulders
like woodmen, and their heads bound with large garlands of ivy-leaves,
intertwined with sprigs of hawthorn. Then followed _six young maidens_
of the village, dressed in blue kirtles, with garlands of primroses on
their heads, leading a fine sleek cow decorated with ribbons of various
colours, interspersed with flowers; and the horns of the animal were
tipped with gold. These were succeeded by _six foresters_, equipped in
green tunics, with hoods and hosen of the same colour; each of them
carried a bugle-horn attached to a baldrick of silk, which he sounded as
he passed the barrier. After them came Peter Lanaret, the baron’s chief
falconer, who personified _Robin Hood_, he was attired in a bright
grass-green tunic, fringed with gold; his hood and his hosen were
parti-coloured, blue and white; he had a large garland of rosebuds on
his head, a bow bent in his hand, a sheaf of arrows at his girdle, and
a bugle-horn depending from a baldrick of light blue tarantine,
embroidered with silver; he had also a sword and a dagger, the hilts of
both being richly embossed with gold.--Fabian, a page, as _Little John_,
walked at his right hand; and Cecil Cellerman the butler, as _Will
Stukely_, at his left. These, with ten others of the jolly outlaw’s
attendants who followed, were habited in green garments, bearing their
bows bent in their hands, and their arrows in their girdles. Then came
_two maidens_, in orange-coloured kirtles with white courtpies, strewing
flowers, followed immediately by the _Maid Marian_, elegantly habited in
a watchet-coloured tunic reaching to the ground; over which she wore a
white linen rochet with loose sleeves, fringed with silver, and very
neatly plaited; her girdle was of silver baudekin, fastened with a
double bow on the left side; her long flaxen hair was divided into many
ringlets, and flowed upon her shoulders; the top part of her head was
covered with a net-work cawl of gold, upon which was placed a garland of
silver, ornamented with blue violets. She was supported by _two
bride-maidens_, in sky-coloured rochets girt with crimson girdles,
wearing garlands upon their heads of blue and white violets. After them
came _four other females_ in green courtpies, and garlands of violets
and cowslips. Then Sampson the smith, as _Friar Tuck_, carrying a huge
quarter-staff on his shoulder; and Morris the mole-taker, who
represented _Much_ the miller’s son, having a long pole with an inflated
bladder attached to one end. And after them the _May-pole_, drawn by
eight fine oxen, decorated with scarfs, ribbons, and flowers of divers
colours; and the tips of their horns were embellished with gold. The
rear was closed by the _hobby-horse_ and the _dragon_.--When the
May-pole was drawn into the square, the foresters sounded their horns,
and the populace expressed their pleasure by shouting incessantly until
it reached the place assigned for its elevation:--and during the time
the ground was preparing for its reception, the barriers of the bottom
of the inclosure were opened for the villagers to approach, and adorn it
with ribbons, garlands, and flowers, as their inclination prompted
them.--The pole being sufficiently onerated with finery, the square was
cleared from such as had no part to perform in the pageant; and then it
was elevated amidst the reiterated acclamations of the spectators. The
_woodmen_ and the _milk-maidens_ danced around it according to the
rustic fashion; the measure was played by Peretto Cheveritte, the
baron’s chief minstrel, on the _bagpipes_, accompanied with the pipe and
tabour, performed by one of his associates. When the dance was finished,
Gregory the jester, who undertook to play the _hobby-horse_, came
forward with his appropriate equipment, and, frisking up and down the
square without restriction, imitated the galloping, curvetting, ambling,
trotting, and other paces of a horse, to the infinite satisfaction of
the lower classes of the spectators. He was followed by Peter Parker,
the baron’s ranger, who personated a _dragon_, hissing, yelling, and
shaking his wings with wonderful ingenuity; and to complete the mirth,
Morris, in the character of _Much_, having small bells attached to his
knees and elbows, capered here and there between the two monsters in the
form of a dance; and as often as he came near to the sides of the
inclosure, he cast slily a handful of meal into the faces of the gaping
rustics, or rapped them about their heads with the bladder tied at the
end of his pole. In the mean time, Sampson, representing Friar Tuck,
walked with much gravity around the square, and occasionally let fall
his heavy staff upon the toes of such of the crowd as he thought were
approaching more forward than they ought to do; and if the sufferers
cried out from the sense of pain, he addressed them in a solemn tone of
voice, advising them to count their beads, say a paternoster or two, and
to beware of purgatory. These vagaries were highly palatable to the
populace, who announced their delight by repeated plaudits and loud
bursts of laughter; for this reason they were continued for a
considerable length of time: but Gregory, beginning at last to faulter
in his paces, ordered the dragon to fall back: the well-nurtured beast,
being out of breath, readily obeyed, and their two companions followed
their example; which concluded this part of the pastime.--Then the
_archers_ set up a target at the lower part of the green, and made trial
of their skill in a regular succession. Robin Hood and Will Stukely
excelled their comrades; and both of them lodged an arrow in the centre
circle of gold, so near to each other that the difference could not
readily be decided, which occasioned them to shoot again; when Robin
struck the gold a second time, and Stukely’s arrow was affixed upon the
edge of it. Robin was therefore adjudged the conqueror; and the prize of
honour, a garland of laurel embellished with variegated ribbons, was put
upon his head; and to Stukely was given a garland of ivy, because he was
the second best performer in that contest.--The pageant was finished
with the archery; and the procession began to move away to make room for
the villagers, who afterwards assembled in the square, and amused
themselves by dancing round the May-pole in promiscuous companies,
according to the antient custom.”[123] It is scarcely possible to give a
better general idea of the regular May-game, than as it has been here
represented.
* * * * *
Of the English May-pole this may be observed. An author before cited
says, that “at the north-west corner of _Aldgate_ ward in
_Leadenhall-street_, standeth the fair and beautiful parish church of
St. Andrew the apostle, with an addition, to be known from other
churches of that name, of the _knape_, or _undershaft_, and so called
_St. Andrew Undershaft_, because that of old time, every year (on
May-day in the morning,) it was used, that a high or long shaft, or
_May-pole_, was set up there, in the midst of the street, before the
south door of the said church, which shaft or pole, when it was set on
end, and fixed in the ground, was _higher than the church steeple_.
Jeffrey Chaucer, writing of a vain boaster, hath these words, meaning of
the said shaft:--
“Right well aloft, and high ye bear your head,
* * * * *
As ye would bear the great shaft of Corn-hill.
“This shaft was not raised any time since evil May-day, (so called of an
insurrection being made by prentices, and other young persons against
aliens, in the year 1517,) but the said shaft was laid along over the
doors, and under the pentices of one rowe of houses, and Alley-gate,
called of the shaft, _Shaft-alley_, (being of the possessions of
Rochester-bridge,) in the ward of Lime-street.--It was there, I say,
hanged on iron hooks many years, till the third of king Edward the
sixth, (1552), that one sir Stephen, curate of St. Katherine Christ’s
church, preaching at Paul’s Cross, said there, that this shaft was made
an idoll, by naming the church of St. Andrew with the addition of
Undershaft; he perswaded, therefore, that the names of churches might be
altered.--This sermon at Paul’s Cross took such effect, that in the
afternoon of that present Sunday, the neighbors and tenants to the said
bridge, over whose doors the said shaft had lain, after they had dined
(to make themselves strong,) gathered more help, and, with great labor,
raising the shaft from the hooks, (whereon it had rested two-and-thirty
years,) they sawed it in pieces, every man taking for his share so much
as had lain over his door and stall, the length of his house; and they
of the alley, divided amongst them, so much as had lain over their
alley-gate. Thus was his idoll (as he termed it,) mangled, and after
burned.”[124]
It was a great object with some of the more rigid among our early
reformers, to suppress amusements, especially May-poles; and these
“idols” of the people were got down as zeal grew fierce, and got up as
it grew cool, till, after various ups and downs, the favourites of the
populace were, by the parliament, on the 6th of April, 1644, thus
provided against: “The lords and commons do further order and ordain,
that all and singular _May-poles_, that are or shall be erected, shall
be taken down, and removed by the constables, bossholders, tithing-men,
petty constables, and churchwardens of the parishes, where the same be,
and that no May-pole be hereafter set up, erected, or suffered to be set
up within this kingdom of England, or dominion of Wales; the said
officers to be fined five shillings weekly till the said May-pole be
taken down.”
Accordingly down went all the May-poles that were left. A famous one in
the Strand, which had ten years before been sung in lofty metre, appears
to have previously fallen. The poet says,--
Fairly we marched on, till our approach
Within the spacious passage of the Strand,
Objected to our sight a summer broach,
Ycleap’d a May Pole, which in all our land,
No city, towne, nor streete, can parralell,
Nor can the lofty spire of Clarken-well,
Although we have the advantage of a rocke,
Pearch up more high his turning weather-cock.
Stay, quoth my Muse, and here behold a signe
Of harmelesse mirth and honest neighbourhood,
Where all the parish did in one combine
To mount the rod of peace, and none withstood:
When no capritious constables disturb them,
Nor justice of the peace did seek to curb them,
Nor peevish puritan, in rayling sort,
Nor over-wise church-warden, spoyl’d the sport.
Happy the age, and harmlesse were the dayes,
(For then true love and amity was found,)
When every village did a May Pole raise,
And Whitson-ales and MAY-GAMES did abound:
And all the lusty yonkers, in a rout,
With merry lasses daunc’d the rod about,
Then Friendship to their banquets bid the guests,
And poore men far’d the better for their feasts.
The lords of castles, mannors, townes, and towers,
Rejoic’d when they beheld the farmer’s flourish,
And would come downe unto the summer-bowers
To see the country gallants dance the Morrice.
* * * * *
But since the SUMMER POLES _were overthrown_,
And all good sports and merriments decay’d,
How times and men are chang’d, so well is knowne,
It were but labour lost if more were said.
* * * * *
But I doe hope once more the day will come,
That you shall mount and pearch your cocks as high
As ere you did, and that the pipe and drum
Shall bid defiance to your enemy;
And that all fidlers, which in corners lurke,
And have been almost starv’d for want of worke,
Shall draw their crowds, and, at your exaltation,
Play many a fit of merry recreation.[125]
The restoration of Charles II. was the signal for the restoration of
May-poles. On the very first May-day afterwards, in 1661, the _May-pole
in the Strand_ was reared with great ceremony and rejoicing, a curious
account of which, from a rare tract, is at the reader’s service. “Let me
declare to you,” says the triumphant narrator, “the manner in general of
that stately cedar erected in the strand 134 foot high, commonly called
the _May-Pole_, upon the cost of the parishioners there adjacent, and
the gracious consent of his sacred Majesty with the illustrious Prince
The Duke of York. This Tree was a most choice and remarkable piece;
’twas made below Bridge, and brought in two parts up to Scotland Yard
near the King’s Palace, and from thence it was conveyed April 14th to
the Strand to be erected. It was brought with a streamer flourishing
before it, Drums beating all the way and other sorts of musick; it was
supposed to be so long, that Landsmen (as Carpenters) could not possibly
raise it; (Prince James the Duke of York, Lord High Admiral of England,
commanded twelve seamen off a boord to come and officiate the business,
whereupon they came and brought their cables, Pullies, and other
tacklins, with six great anchors) after this was brought three Crowns,
bore by three men bare-headed and a streamer displaying all the way
before them, Drums beating and other musick playing; numerous
multitudes of people thronging the streets, with great shouts and
acclamations all day long. The May pole then being joyned together, and
hoopt about with bands of iron, the crown and cane with the Kings Arms
richly gilded, was placed on the head of it, a large top like a Balcony
was about the middle of it. This being done, the trumpets did sound, and
in four hours space it was advanced upright, after which being
established fast in the ground six drums did beat, and the trumpets did
sound; again great shouts and acclamations the people give, that it did
ring throughout all the strand. After that came a _Morice Dance_ finely
deckt, with purple scarfs, in their half-shirts, with a Tabor and Pipe,
the ancient Musick, and danced round about the Maypole, and after that
danced the rounds of their liberty. Upon the top of this famous standard
is likewise set up a royal purple streamer, about the middle of it is
placed four Crowns more, with the King’s Arms likewise, there is also a
garland set upon it of various colours of delicate rich favours, under
which is to be placed three great Lanthorns, to remain for three
honours; that is, one for Prince James Duke of York, Ld High Admiral of
England; the other for the Vice Admiral; and the third for the rear
Admiral; these are to give light in dark nights and to continue so as
long as the Pole stands which will be a perpetual honour for seamen. It
is placed as near hand as they could guess, in the very same pit where
the former stood, but far more glorious, bigger and higher, than ever
any one that stood before it; and the seamen themselves do confess that
it could not be built higher nor is there not such a one in Europe
beside, which highly doth please his Majesty, and the illustrious Prince
Duke of York; little children did much rejoice, and antient people did
clap their hands, saying, golden days began to appear. I question not
but ’twill ring like melodious musick throughout every county in
Englend, when they read this story being exactly pen’d; let this
satisfie for the glories of London that other loyal subjects may read
what we here do see.”[126]
A processional engraving, by Vertue, among the prints of the Antiquarian
Society, represents this May-pole, as a door or two westward beyond
“Where Catharine-street descends into the Strand;”
and as far as recollection of the print serves, it was erected opposite
to the site of sir Walter Stirling and Co’s. present banking-house. In a
compilation respecting “London and Middlesex,” it is stated that this
May-pole having decayed, was obtained of the parish by sir Isaac Newton,
in 1717, and carried through the city to Wanstead, in Essex; and by
license of sir Richard Child, lord Castlemain, reared in the park by the
rev. Mr. Pound, rector of that parish, for the purpose of supporting the
largest telescope at that period in the world, given by Mons. Hugon, a
French member of the Royal Society, as a present; the telescope was one
hundred and twenty-five feet long. This May-pole on public occasions was
adorned with streamers, flags, garlands of flowers and other ornaments.
It was near the May-pole in the Strand that, in 1677, Mr. Robert
Perceval was found dead with a deep wound under his left breast, and his
sword drawn and bloody, lying by him. He was nineteen years of age, had
fought as many duels as he had lived years, and with uncommon talents
was an excessive libertine. He was second son to the right hon. sir
Robert Perceval, bart. Some singular particulars are related of him in
the “History of the House of Yvery.” A stranger’s hat with a bunch of
ribbons in it was lying near his body when it was discovered, and there
exists no doubt of his having been killed by some person who,
notwithstanding royal proclamations and great inquiries, was never
discovered. The once celebrated Beau Fielding was suspected of the
crime. He was buried under the chapel of Lincoln’s-inn. His elder
brother, sir Philip Perceval, intent on discovering the murderers,
violently attacked a gentleman in Dublin, whom he declared he had never
seen before; he could only account for his rage by saying he was
possessed with a belief that he was one of those who had killed his
brother; they were soon parted, and the gentleman was seen no more.
The last poet who seems to have mentioned it was Pope; he says of an
assemblage of persons that,--
Amidst the area wide they took their stand,
Where the tall May-pole once o’er-look’d the Strand.
A native of Penzance, in Cornwall, relates to the editor of the
_Every-Day Book_, that it is an annual custom there, on May-eve, for a
number of young men and women to assemble at a public-house, and sit up
till the clock strikes twelve, when they go round the town with violins,
drums, and other instruments, and by sound of music call upon others who
had previously settled to join them. As soon as the party is formed,
they proceed to different farmhouses, within four or five miles of the
neighbourhood, where they are expected as regularly as May morning
comes; and they there partake of a beverage called junket, made of raw
milk and rennet, or running, as it is there called, sweetened with
sugar, and a little cream added. After this, they take tea, and “heavy
country cake,” composed of flour, cream, sugar, and currants; next, rum
and milk, and then a dance. After thus regaling, they gather the May.
While some are breaking down the boughs, others sit and make the “May
music.” This is done by cutting a circle through the bark at a certain
distance from the bottom of the May branches; then, by gently and
regularly tapping the bark all round, from the cut circle to the end,
the bark becomes loosened, and slips away whole from the wood; and a
hole being cut in the pipe, it is easily formed to emit a sound when
blown through, and becomes a whistle. The gathering and the “May music”
being finished, they then “bring home the May,” by five or six o’clock
in the morning, with the band playing, and their whistles blowing. After
dancing throughout the town, they go to their respective employments.
Although May-day should fall on a Sunday, they observe the same practice
in all respects, with the omission of dancing in the town.
On the first Sunday after May-day, it is a custom with families at
Penzance to visit Rose-hill, Poltier, and other adjacent villages, by
way of recreation. These pleasure-parties usually consist of two or
three families together. They carry flour and other materials with them
to make the “heavy cake,” just described, at the pleasant farm-dairies,
which are always open for their reception. Nor do they forget to take
tea, sugar, rum, and other comfortable things for their refreshment,
which, by paying a trifle for baking, and for the niceties awaiting
their consumption, contents the farmers for the house-room and pleasure
they afford their welcome visitants. Here the young ones find delicious
“junkets,” with “sour milk,” or curd cut in diamonds, which is eaten
with sugar and cream. New made cake, refreshing tea, and exhilarating
punch, satisfy the stomach, cheer the spirits, and assist the walk home
in the evening. These pleasure-takings are never made before May-day;
but the first Sunday that succeeds it, and the leisure of every other
afternoon, is open to the frugal enjoyment; and among neighbourly
families and kind friends, the enjoyment is frequent.
* * * * *
_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._
Sir,
There still exists among the labouring classes in Wales the custom of
May-dancing, wherein they exhibit their persons to the best advantage,
and distinguish their agility before the fair maidens of their own rank.
About a fortnight previous to the day, the interesting question among
the lads and lasses is, “Who will turn out to dance in the summer this
year?” From that time the names of the gay performers are buzzed in the
village, and rumour “with her hundred tongues” proclaims them throughout
the surrounding neighbourhood. Nor is it asked with less interest, “Who
will carry the garland?” and “Who will be the _Cadi_?” Of the peculiar
offices of these two distinguished personages you shall hear presently.
About nine days or a week previous to the festival, a collection is made
of the gayest ribbons that can be procured. Each lad resorts to his
favoured lass, who gives him the best she possesses, and uses her utmost
interest with her friends or her mistress to obtain a loan of whatever
may be requisite to supply the deficiency. Her next care is to decorate
a new white shirt of fine linen. This is a principal part of her lover’s
dress. The bows and puffs of ribbon are disposed according to the
peculiar taste of each fair girl who is rendered happy by the pleasing
task; and thus the shirts of the dancers, from the various fancies of
the adorners, form a diversified and lively appearance.
During this time the chosen garland-bearer is also busily employed.
Accompanied by one from among the intended dancers, who is best known
among the farmers for decency of conduct, and consequent responsibility,
they go from house to house, throughout their parish, begging the loan
of watches, silver spoons, or whatever other utensils of this metal are
likely to make a brilliant display; and those who are satisfied with the
parties, and have a regard for the celebration of this ancient day,
comply with their solicitation.
When May-day morn arrives, the group of dancers assemble at their
rendezvous--the village tavern. From thence (when permission can be
obtained from the clergyman of the parish,) the rustic procession sets
forth, accompanied by the ringing of bells.
The arrangement and march are settled by the Cadi, who is always the
most active person in the company; and is, by virtue of his important
office, the chief marshal, orator, buffoon, and money collector. He is
always arrayed in comic attire, generally in a partial dress of both
sexes: a coat and waistcoat being used for the upper part of the body,
and for the lower petticoats, somewhat resembling Moll Flagon, in the
“Lord of the Manor.” His countenance is also particularly distinguished
by a hideous mask, or is blackened entirely over; and then the lips,
cheeks, and orbits of the eyes are sometimes painted red. The number of
the rest of the party, including the garland-bearer, is generally
thirteen, and with the exception of the varied taste in the decoration
of their shirts with ribbons, their costume is similar. It consists of
clothing entirely new from the hat to the shoes, which are made neat,
and of a light texture, for dancing. The white decorated shirts, plaited
in the neatest manner, are worn over the rest of their clothing; the
remainder of the dress is black velveteen breeches, with knee-ties
depending halfway down to the ancles, in contrast with yarn hose of a
light grey. The ornaments of the hats are large rosettes of varied
colours, with streamers depending from them; wreaths of ribbon encircle
the crown, and each of the dancers carries in his right hand a white
pocket handkerchief.
The garland consists of a long staff or pole, to which is affixed a
triangular or square frame, covered with strong white linen, on which
the silver ornaments are firmly fixed, and displayed with the most
studious taste. Silver spoons and smaller forms are placed in the shape
of stars, squares, and circles. Between these are rows of watches; and
at the top of the frame, opposite the pole in its centre, their whole
collection is crowned with the largest and most costly of the ornaments:
generally a large silver cup or tankard. This garland, when completed,
on the eve of May-day, is left for the night at that farmhouse from
whence the dancers have received the most liberal loan of silver and
plate for its decoration, or with that farmer who is distinguished in
his neighbourhood as a good master, and liberal to the poor. Its deposit
is a token of respect, and it is called for early on the following
morning.
The whole party being assembled, they march in single file, but more
generally in pairs, headed by the Cadi. After him follows the
garland-bearer, and then the fiddler, while the bells of the village
merrily ring the signal of their departure. As the procession moves
slowly along, the Cadi varies his station, hovers about his party,
brandishes a ladle, and assails every passenger with comic eloquence and
ludicrous persecution, for a customary and expected donation.
When they arrive at a farmhouse, they take up their ground on the best
station for dancing. The garland-bearer takes his stand; the violin
strikes up an old national tune uniformly used on that occasion, and the
dancers move forward in a regular quick-step to the tune, in the order
of procession; and at each turn of the tune throw up their white
handkerchiefs with a shout, and the whole facing quickly about, retrace
their steps, repeating the same manœuvre until the tune is once played.
The music and dancing then vary into a reel, which is succeeded by
another dance, to the old tune of “Cheshire Round.”
During the whole of this time, the buffoonery of the Cadi is exhibited
without intermission. He assails the inmates of the house for money, and
when this is obtained he bows or curtsies his thanks, and the procession
moves off to the next farmhouse. They do not confine the ramble of the
day to their own parish, but go from one to another, and to any country
town in the vicinity.
When they return to their resident village in the evening, the bells
ringing merrily announce their arrival. The money collected during the
day’s excursion is appropriated to defray whatever expenses may have
been incurred in the necessary preparations, and the remainder is spent
in jovial festivity.
This ancient custom, like many others among the ancient Britons, is
annually growing into disuse. The decline of sports and pastimes is in
every age a subject of regret. For in a civil point of view, they denote
the general prosperity, natural energy, and happiness of the people,
consistent with morality,--and combined with that spirit of true
religion, which unlike the howling of the dismal hyæna or ravening wolf,
is as a lamb sportive and innocent, and as a lion magnanimous and bold!