MAY.

Then came faireMay, the fayrest mayd on ground,Deckt all with dainties of her seasons pryde,And throwing flow’res out of her lap around:Upon two brethren’s shoulders she did ride,The twinnes of Leda; which on either sideSupported her, like to their soveraine Queene.Lord! how all creatures laught, when her they spide,And leapt and daunc’t as they had ravisht beene!And Cupid selfe about her fluttred all in greene.Spenser.

Spenser.

So hath “divinest Spenser” represented the fifth month of the year, in the grand pageant which, to all who have seen it, is still present; for neither the laureate’s office nor the poet’s art hath devised a spectacle more gorgeous. Castor and Pollux, “the twinnes of Leda,” who appeared to sailors in storms with lambent fires on their heads, mythologists have constellated in the firmament, and made still propitious to the mariner. Maia, the brightest of the Pleiades, from whom some say this month derived its name, is fabled to have been the daughter of Atlas, the supporter of the world, and Pleione, a sea-nymph. Others ascribe its name to its having been dedicated by Romulus to the Majores, or Roman senators.

Verstegan affirms of the Anglo-Saxons, that “the pleasant moneth of May they termed by the name ofTrimilki, because in that moneth they began to milke their kine three times in the day.”

Scarcely a poet but praises, or describes, or alludes to the beauties of this month. Darwin sings it as the offspring of thesolar beams, and invites it to approach and receive the greetings of the elemental beings:—

Born in yon blaze of orient sky,Sweet May! thy radiant form unfold;Unclose thy blue voluptuous eye,And wave thy shadowy locks of gold.For thee the fragrant zephyrs blow,For thee descends the sunny shower;The rills in softer murmurs flow,And brighter blossoms gem the bower.Light Graces dress’d in flowery wreaths,And tiptoe Joys their hands combine;And Love his sweet contagion breathes,And laughing dances round thy shrine.Warm with new life, the glittering throngOn quivering fin and rustling wingDelighted join their votive songs,And hail thee, goddess of the spring.

Born in yon blaze of orient sky,Sweet May! thy radiant form unfold;Unclose thy blue voluptuous eye,And wave thy shadowy locks of gold.

For thee the fragrant zephyrs blow,For thee descends the sunny shower;The rills in softer murmurs flow,And brighter blossoms gem the bower.

Light Graces dress’d in flowery wreaths,And tiptoe Joys their hands combine;And Love his sweet contagion breathes,And laughing dances round thy shrine.

Warm with new life, the glittering throngOn quivering fin and rustling wingDelighted join their votive songs,And hail thee, goddess of the spring.

One of Milton’s richest fancies is of this month; he says, that Adam, discoursing with Eve—

Smil’d with superior love; as JupiterOn Juno smiles, when he impregns the cloudsThat shed May-flowers.

Throughout the wide range of poetic excellence, there is no piece of higher loveliness than his often quoted, yet never tiring

Song on May Morning.Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger,Comes dancing from the east, and leads with herThe flowery May, who from her green lap throwsThe yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.Hail, bounteous May! that dost inspireMirth, and youth, and warm desire;Woods and groves are of thy dressing,Hill and dale both boast thy blessing!Thus we salute thee with our early song,And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

Song on May Morning.

Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger,Comes dancing from the east, and leads with herThe flowery May, who from her green lap throwsThe yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.Hail, bounteous May! that dost inspireMirth, and youth, and warm desire;Woods and groves are of thy dressing,Hill and dale both boast thy blessing!Thus we salute thee with our early song,And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

With exquisite feeling and exuberant grace he derives Mirth from—

The frolic wind that breathes the springZephyr, with Aurora playingAs he met her once a Maying;

and, with beautiful propriety, as regards the season, he makes the scenery

——beds of violets blue,And fresh blown roses wash’d in dew.

The first of his “sonnets” is to the nightingale warbling on a “bloomy spray” at eve, while, as he figures,

“The jolly hours lead on propitious May.”

In “a Conversational Poem written in April,” by Mr. Coleridge, there is a description of the nightingale’s song, so splendid that it may take the place of extracts from other poets who have celebrated the charms of the coming month, wherein this bird’s high melody prevails with increasing power:—

All is still,A balmy night! and tho’ the stars be dim,Yet let us think upon the vernal showersThat gladden the green earth, and we shall findA pleasure in the dimness of the stars.And hark? the nightingale begins its song.He crowds, and hurries, and precipitatesWith fast thick warble his delicious notes,As he were fearful, that an April nightWould be too short for him to utter forthHis love-chant, and disburthen his full soulOf all its music!———I know a groveOf large extent, hard by a castle hugeWhich the great lord inhabits not: and soThis grove is wild with tangling underwood,And the trim walks are broken up, and grassThin grass and king-cups grow within the paths.But never elsewhere in one place I knewSo many nightingales: and far and nearIn wood and thicket over the wide groveThey answer and provoke each other’s songs—With skirmish and capricious passagings,And murmurs musical and swift jug jug,And one low piping sound more sweet than all—Stirring the air with such a harmony,That should you close your eyes, you might almostForget it was not day! On moonlight bushes,Whose dewy leafits are but half disclos’d,You may perchance behold them on the twigs,Their bright, bright eyes, their eyes both bright and fullGlist’ning, while many a glow-worm in the shadeLights up her love-torch.———————Oft, a moment’s space,What time the moon was lost behind a cloud,Hath heard a pause of silence: till the moonEmerging, hath awaken’d earth and skyWith one sensation, and those wakeful birdsHave all burst forth in choral minstrelsy,As if one quick and sudden gale had sweptAn hundred airy harps! And I have watch’dMany a nightingale perch’d giddilyOn blos’my twig, still swinging from the breeze,And to that motion tune his wanton song,Like tipsy Joy that reels with tossing head.

St. Philip, andSt. Jamesthe less.St. Asaph, Bp. of Llan-Elway,A. D.590.St. Marcon, orMarculfus,A. D.558.St. Sigismund, king of Burgundy, 6th Cent.

Philip is supposed to have been the first of Christ’s apostles, and to have died at Hierapolis, in Phrygia. James, also surnamed the Just, whose name is borne by the epistle in the New Testament, and who was in great repute among the Jews, was martyred in a tumult in the temple, about the year 62.[119]St. Philip and St. James are in the church of England Calendar.

Tulip.Tulipa Gesneri.Dedicated toSt. Philip.Red Campion.Lychnis dioica rubra.Red Bachelor’s Buttons.Lychnis dioica plena.Dedicated toSt. James.

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 timeThat 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 faceOn 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 breezeMild Zephyr breathed on all around,With grateful glee, to airs like theseYielded its wealth th’ unlaboured ground.So fresh, so fragrant is the gale,Which o’er the islands of the blestSweeps; where nor aches the limbs assail,Nor age’s peevish pains infest.Where thy hushed groves, Elysium, sleep,Such winds with whispered murmurs blowSo, where dull Lethe’s waters creep,They heave, scarce heave the cypress-bough.And such, when heaven with penal flameShall purge the globe, that golden dayRestoring, o’er man’s brightened frameHaply 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.

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 timeThat 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 faceOn 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 breezeMild Zephyr breathed on all around,With grateful glee, to airs like theseYielded its wealth th’ unlaboured ground.

So fresh, so fragrant is the gale,Which o’er the islands of the blestSweeps; where nor aches the limbs assail,Nor age’s peevish pains infest.

Where thy hushed groves, Elysium, sleep,Such winds with whispered murmurs blowSo, where dull Lethe’s waters creep,They heave, scarce heave the cypress-bough.

And such, when heaven with penal flameShall purge the globe, that golden dayRestoring, o’er man’s brightened frameHaply 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 MayColin 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 sayColin he bow’d and blush’d, then said,Will you, sweet maid, this first of MayBegin the dance by Colin led,To make this quite his holiday?Sylvia replied, I ne’er from homeYet 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 MayBy me be taught that love and truthCan make of life a holiday.Lady Craven.

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 sayColin he bow’d and blush’d, then said,Will you, sweet maid, this first of MayBegin the dance by Colin led,To make this quite his holiday?Sylvia replied, I ne’er from homeYet 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 MayBy me be taught that love and truthCan make of life a holiday.

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 MayBegin the dance by Colin led,To make this quite his holiday?

Sylvia replied, I ne’er from homeYet 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 MayBy me be taught that love and truthCan 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 theMay, 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 whereTo 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 outgoWith 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 attoneWas Ladie Flora, on whom did attendA faire flock of faeries, and a fresh bendOf lovely nymphs. O, that I were thereTo helpen the ladies their May-bush beare.

*****

Siker this morrow, no longer ago,I saw a shole of shepheards outgoWith 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 attoneWas Ladie Flora, on whom did attendA faire flock of faeries, and a fresh bendOf lovely nymphs. O, that I were thereTo 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 morneUpon her wings presents the God unshorne.See how Aurora throwes her faireFresh-quilted colours through the aire;Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and seeThe 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 seeneTo come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and greene,And sweet as Flora. Take no careFor jewels for your gowne or haire;Feare not, the leaves will strewGemms 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 lightHangs on the dew-locks of the night;And Titan on the eastern hillRetires himselfe, or else stands stillTill 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, markeHow each field turns a street, each street a parkeMade green, and trimm’d with trees; see howDevotion 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 loveCan such delights be in the street,And open fields, and we not see’t?Come, we’ll abroad, and let’s obayThe proclamation made for May:And sin no more, as we have done, by stayingBut, 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 comeBack, and with white-thorn laden home.Some have dispatcht their cakes and creameBefore 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 sentFrom out the eye, love’s firmament;Many a jest told of the keye’s betrayingThis night, and locks pickt; yet w’are not a Maying.Come, let us goe, while we are in our primeAnd take the harmlesse follie of the time.We shall grow old apace and dieBefore we know our liberty.Our life is short, and our dayes runAs fast away as do’s the sunne;And as a vapour, or a drop of raineOnce lost, can ne’r be found againe;So when or you or I are madeA fable, song, or fleeting shade;All love, all liking, all delightLies 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.

Rise, and put on your foliage, and be seeneTo come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and greene,And sweet as Flora. Take no careFor jewels for your gowne or haire;Feare not, the leaves will strewGemms 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 lightHangs on the dew-locks of the night;And Titan on the eastern hillRetires himselfe, or else stands stillTill 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, markeHow each field turns a street, each street a parkeMade green, and trimm’d with trees; see howDevotion 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 loveCan such delights be in the street,And open fields, and we not see’t?Come, we’ll abroad, and let’s obayThe proclamation made for May:And sin no more, as we have done, by stayingBut, 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 comeBack, and with white-thorn laden home.Some have dispatcht their cakes and creameBefore 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 sentFrom out the eye, love’s firmament;Many a jest told of the keye’s betrayingThis night, and locks pickt; yet w’are not a Maying.

Come, let us goe, while we are in our primeAnd take the harmlesse follie of the time.We shall grow old apace and dieBefore we know our liberty.Our life is short, and our dayes runAs fast away as do’s the sunne;And as a vapour, or a drop of raineOnce lost, can ne’r be found againe;So when or you or I are madeA fable, song, or fleeting shade;All love, all liking, all delightLies 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 ofMay-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 thoseWhose hands did composeThe glory of flowers that crown’d it.Herrick.

The May-pole is up,Now give me the cup;I’ll drink to the garlands around it;But first unto thoseWhose hands did composeThe 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 seenthe Lady of the MaySet in an arbour(on a holy-day)Built by the May-pole, where the jocund swainesDance with the maidensto 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 spentHis paines to fill their rural merriment.Browne’s Pastorals.

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 theDee, 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 withbowes 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.

“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 menfirst 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 followedsix young maidensof 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 bysix 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 personifiedRobin 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, asLittle John, walked at his right hand; and Cecil Cellerman the butler, asWill 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 cametwo maidens, in orange-coloured kirtles with white courtpies, strewing flowers, followed immediately by theMaid 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 bytwo bride-maidens, in sky-coloured rochets girt with crimson girdles, wearing garlands upon their heads of blue and white violets. After them camefour other femalesin green courtpies, and garlands of violets and cowslips. Then Sampson the smith, asFriar Tuck, carrying a huge quarter-staff on his shoulder; and Morris the mole-taker, who representedMuchthe miller’s son, having a long pole with an inflated bladder attached to one end. And after them theMay-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 thehobby-horseand thedragon.—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. Thewoodmenand themilk-maidensdanced around it according to the rustic fashion; the measure was played by Peretto Cheveritte, the baron’s chief minstrel, on thebagpipes, accompanied with the pipe and tabour, performed by one of his associates. When the dance was finished, Gregory the jester, who undertook to play thehobby-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 adragon, hissing, yelling, and shaking his wings with wonderful ingenuity; and to complete the mirth, Morris, in the character ofMuch, 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 thearchersset 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 readilybe 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 ofAldgateward inLeadenhall-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 theknape, orundershaft, and so calledSt. Andrew Undershaft, because that of old time, every year (on May-day in the morning,) it was used, that a high or long shaft, orMay-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, washigher 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.

“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 singularMay-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 approachWithin 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 signeOf harmelesse mirth and honest neighbourhood,Where all the parish did in one combineTo 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 andMay-gamesdid 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-bowersTo see the country gallants dance the Morrice.******But since theSummer Poleswere 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 highAs ere you did, and that the pipe and drumShall 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]

Stay, quoth my Muse, and here behold a signeOf harmelesse mirth and honest neighbourhood,Where all the parish did in one combineTo 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 andMay-gamesdid 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-bowersTo see the country gallants dance the Morrice.

******

But since theSummer Poleswere 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 highAs ere you did, and that the pipe and drumShall 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, theMay-pole in the Strandwas 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 theMay-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, Drumsbeating 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 aMorice Dancefinely 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

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