May 1.

MAY DAY.

In Shakspeare's play of King Henry VIII. there is a grand procession to the christening of the princess Elizabeth. The approach of the pageant attracts into the palace yard a multitude, who are desirous of catching a glimpse of the spectacle: their noise and tumult distract the porter at the palace gate-"an army cannot rule 'em "he scolds and rates in vain; and his man says to him

Pray, sir, be patient; 'tis as much impossible (Unless we sweep them from the door with cannons)

To scatter em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep
On May day morning; which will never be.

It were needless to require evidence beyond this record, by our great observer of men and manners, that our ancestors -rose up early, to observe

The rite of May, There is "more matter for a May-morning," and the afterpart of a good" Mayday," in our old chroniclers and best poets, than could be compressed into such a volume as this. Great were the assemblages and outgoings from the city,

on a May-day morning to fetch in May. - More than 130 columns, and fourteen engravings, describe and illustrate this festival in the Every-Day Book and Table Book, and yet there still remains some seasonable information concerning Mayday merriments and usages.

Olaus Magnus, who wrote in the sixteenth century, relates that the southern

Christine de Pisan.

Swedes and Goths, that are very far from the Pole, have a custom, that on the fir: t day of May, when the sun is in Taurus, there should be two horse troops appointed of young and lusty men, as if they were to fight some hard conflict. One of these is led on by a captain, chosen by lot, who has the name and habit of winter.

He is clothed with divers skins, and armed with fire-forks; and casting about snow-balls and pieces of ice, that he may prolong the cold, he rides up and down in triumph, and he shows and makes himself the harder, the more the icicles seem to hang from their stoves. The chieftain of the other troop is for summer, and is called captain Florio, and is clothed with green boughs and leaves, and summer garments that are not very strong. Both these ride from the fields into the city, from divers places, one after another, and with their fire-spears they fight, and make a public show, that summer hath conquered winter.

Both sides striving to get the victory, that side more forcibly assaults the other which on that day seems to borrow more force from the air, whether temperate or sharp. If the winter yet breathes frost, they lay aside their spears, and, riding up and down, cast about проп the spectators ashes mingled with live sparks of fire taken from the graves, or from the altar; and they who in the same dress and habit are auxiliary troops cast fire-balls from their horses. Summer, with his band of horse, shows openly his boughs of birch, or tietree, which are made green long before by art, as by the heat of their stoves and watering them, and privately brought in as

if they newly came from the wood. But, because Nature is thus defrauded, those that fight for winter press on the more, that the victory may not be got by fraud; yet the sentence is given for summer by the favorable judgment of the people, who are unwilling to endure the sharp rigor of winter any longer; and so summer gets the victory with the general applause of them all, and he makes a gallant feast for his company, and confirms it by drinking cups, which he could scarcely win with spears.

This sport is spoken of by Olaus Magnus as "the custom of driving away the winter, and receiving of summer."

Our neighbours of France were great observers of May-day. In the journal of Charles VI., who commenced his reign in 1380, it is recorded that the "May" planted annually at the gate of the palace was eut from the Bois de Boulogne, a wood in which the sovereigns of the first race, when they dwelt in the palace of Clichy, were accustomed to sport, and in which the troops of Charles X. bivouacked the night before his departure into exile from the palace of St. Cloud.

In 1449 the fraternity of master goldsmiths of Paris agreed, as an act of devotion, to present, annually, in the church of Notre Dame, to the Virgin, on the first of May, at midnight, a "May," or Maybough, before the principal door of the church of Notre Dame. They elected a prince for one year only, who was to settle the expenses of the "May."

The" May" was placed on a pillar, or shrine, in the form of a tabernacle, in the several faces of which were small niches, occupied by different figures of silk, gold, and silver, representing certain histories, and below them were explanatory inscriptions in French verse. The "May" remained at the great door from midnight till after vespers the next day, when it was transported, together with the pillar, before the image of the Virgin, near the choir, and the old "May" of the preceding year was removed into the chapel of St. Anne, to be kept there also a year. This ceremony was regularly observed till 1607, when the goldsmiths presented to the church a triangular tabernacle of wood, very curiously wrought, in which three paintings were enclosed; these paintings were presented and changed annually,

instead of the "May," and the old ones hung up in the chapel of St. Anne.*

In the Every Day Book there is Stow's ample account of "Ill May Day," or the rising of the London 'prentices into fatal fray, on May-day, 1517, which occasioned the setting up of that great May-pole, or "shaft," from which the adjoining parish and church of St. Andrew were called St.

Andrew Undershaft. It appears from the following ballad, that, to prevent a similar occurrence by reason of the great crowds on the festival, the old armed watch of the city was thenceforth set up on Mayeve. On account of the former popularity of this almost forgotten "garland," it is here inserted verbatim.

THE STORY OF ILL MAY DAY, in the reign of king HENRY the Eighth, and why it was so called; and how Queen KATHERINE begged the lives of two thousand LONDON Appren tices. To the Tune of Essex Good Night. Peruse the stories of this land,

And with advisement mark the same,
And you shall justly understand

How I May Day first got the name.
For when king Henry th' eighth did reign,
And rul'd our famous kingdom here,
His royal queen he had from Spain,

With whom he liv'd full many a year.
Queen Katherine nam'd, as stories tell,
Some time his elder brother's wife ;
By which unlawful marriage fell

An endless trouble during life: But such kind love he still conceiv'd

Of his fair queen, and of her friends,
Which being by Spain and France perceiv'd,
Their journeys fast for England bends.
And with good leave were suffered

Within our kingdom here to stay,
Which multitude made victuals dear,
And all things else from day to day;
For strangers then did so increase,
By reason of king Henry's queen,
And privileg'd in many a place

To dwell, as was in London seen.
Poor tradesmen had small dealing then,
And who but strangers bore the bell?
Which was a grief to English men,

To see them here in London dwell:

Wherefore (God-wot) upon May-eve,

The 'prentices a-maying went,
Who made the magistrates believe,

At all to have no other intent:
But such a May-game it was known,

As like in London never were;
For by the same full many a one
With loss of life did pay full dear:

History of Paris, i. 577.

For thousands came with Bilboe blade,
As with an army they could meet,
And such a bloody slaughter made
Of foreign strangers in the street,

That all the channels ran with blood,
In every street where they remain'd;
Yea, every one in danger stood,

That any of their part maintain'd:
The rich, the poor, the old, the young,
Beyond the seas though born and bred,
By 'prentices they suffer'd wrong,

When armed thus they gather'd head.
Such multitudes together went,

No warlike troops could them withstand, Nor could by policy prevent,

What they by force thus took in hand : Till, at the last, king Henry's power

This multitude encompass'd round, Where, with the strength of London's tower, They were by force suppress'd and bound. And hundreds hang'd by martial law,

On sign-posts at their masters' doors, By which the rest were kept in awe,

And frighted from such loud uproars ; And others which the fact repeated

(Two thousand 'prentices at least) Were all unto the king presented,

As mayor and magistrates thought best. With two and two together tied,

Through Temple-bar and Strand they go, To Westminster, there to be tried, With ropes about their necks also: But such a cry in every street,

Till then was never heard or known, By mothers for their children sweet, Unhappily thus overthrown;

Whose bitter moans and sad laments, Possess'd the court with trembling fear; Whereat the queen herself relents,

Though it concern'd her country dear: What if (quoth she) by Spanish blood,

Have London's stately streets been wet, Yet will I seck this country's good,

And pardon for these young men get;

Or else the world will speak of me,

And say queen Katherine was unkind, And judge me still the cause to be, These young men did these fortunes find: And so, disrob'd from rich attires,

With hair hang'd down, she sadly hics, And of her gracious lord requires

A boon, which hardly he denies.

The lives (quoth she) of all the blooms
Yet budding green, these youths I crave;
O let them not have timeless tombs,
For nature longer limits gave:
In saying so, the pearled tears

Fell trickling from her princely eyes;
Whereat his gentle queen he cheers,

And says, stand up, sweet lady, rise;

The lives of them I freely give,

No means this kindness shall debar, Thou hast thy boon, and they may live To serve me in my Bullen war: No sooner was this pardon given,

But peals of joy rung through the hall, As though it thundered down from heaven, The queen's renown amongst them all. For which (kind queen) with joyful heart, She gave to them both thanks and praise, And so from them did gently part,

And lived beloved all her days: And when king Henry stood in need Of trusty soldiers at command, These 'prentices prov'd men indeed,

And fear'd no force of warlike band.
For, at the siege of Tours, in France,
They show'd themselves brave Englishmen ;
At Bullen, too, they did advance

Saint George's ancient standard then ;
Let Tourine, Tournay, and those towns
That good king Henry nobly won,
Tell London's 'prentices' renowns,

And of their deeds by them there done.
For I May-day, and Ill May-games,
Perform'd in young and tender days,
Can be no hindrance to their fames,
Or stains of manhood any ways:
But now it is ordain'd by law,

We see on May-day's eve, at night,
To keep unruly youths in awe,

By London's watch, in armour bright,

Still to prevent the like misdeed,

Which once through headstrong young men

came:

And that's the cause that I do read, May-day doth get so ill a name.

The old May-pole was painted with various colors. On the next page is an engraving of one as it appears in Mr. Tollett's painted glass window, at Betley in Staffordshire, "which exhibits, in all probability, the most curious as well as the oldest representation of an English May-game and morris dance that is any where to be found." Concerning this dance and the window further particulars will be stated hereafter. Upon Mr. Tollett's May-pole are displayed St George's red cross, or the banner of England, and a white pennon, or streamer, emblazoned with a red cross, terminating like the blade of a sword, but the delineation thereof is much faded.†

Mr. Douce's Illustrations of Shakspeare, ii. 445. + Malone's Shakspeare, 1821 xvi. 425.

came suddenly, among the train, one apparelled like an honest man's wife of the countrie; where crying out for justice, and desiring all the lords and gentlemen to speak a good word for her, shee was brought to the presence of her Majestie, to whom upon her knees shee offered a supplication, and used this speech :”— "Most fair ladie! for as for other your titles of state statelier persons shall give you, and thus much mine own eies are witnesses of, take here the complaint of mee poor wretch, as deeply plunged in miserie as I wish to you the highest point of happiness.

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Onely one daughter I have, in whom I had placed all the hopes of my good hap, so well had shee with her good parts recompensed my pain of bearing her, and care of bringing her up: but now, alas! that shee is com to the time I should reap my full comfort of her, so is shee troubled, with that notable matter which we in the countrie call matrimonie, as I cannot chuse but fear the loss of her wits, at least of her honestie. Other women think they may bee unhappily combred with one master husband; my poor daughter is oppressed with two, both loving her, both equally liked of her, both striving to deserve her. But now lastly (as this jealousie forsooth is a vile matter) each have brought their partakers with them, and are at this present, without your presence red ress it, in some bloodie controversie; now sweet Ladie help, your own way guides you to the place where they encomber her. I dare stay here no longer, for our men say in the countrie, the sight of you is infectious."

The speech, &c., was delivered by a female called "the Suitor," who finally presented the queen with a written supplication, in verse, and departed.

"Herewith the woman-suitor being gon, there was heard in the wood a confused noise, and forthwith there came out six shepherds, with as many forresters, haling and pulling to whether side they should draw the Ladie of May, who seemed to incline neither to the one nor the other side. Among them was master Rombus a schoolmaster of a village thereby, who, being fully persuaded of his own learned wisdom, came thither with his authoritie to part their fray; where for answer hee received many unlearned blows. But the Queen coming to the place where she was seen of them, though they knew not her estate, yet something there was which made

them startle aside and gaze upon her till old father Lalus stepped forth (one of the substantiallest shepherds) and, making a leg or two, said these few words:

"May it pleas your dignitie to give a little superfluous intelligence to that which, with the opening of my mouth, my tongue and teeth shall deliver unto you. So it is, right worshipful audience, that a certain shee creature, which wee shepherds call a woman, of a minsical countenance, but (by my white lamb) not three-quarters so beauteous as yourself, hath disannulled the brain-pain of two of our featioust young men. And will you wot how? By my mother Kit's soul, with a certain fransical ma-ladie they call love; when I was a young man they called it flat follie. But here is a substantial schoolmaster can better disnounce the whole foundation of the matter, although in sooth, for all his loquence, our young men were nothing dutious to his clarkship; com on, com on master schoolmaster, bee not so bashless; we say that the fairest are ever the gentlest: tell the whole case, for you can much better vent the points of it than I."

Then came forward master Rombus, and in the manner of "Lingo,” in the “ Agree able surprise" (a character undoubtedly derived from this Rombus), he made “a learned oration" in the following words: "Now the thunderthumping Jove transfund his dotes into your excellent formositie, which have with your resplendant beams thus segregated the enmitie of these rural animals: I am Potentissma Domina, a schoolmaster, that is to say, a pedagogue, one not a little versed in the disciplinating of the juvenal frie, wherein (to my laud I say it) I use such geometrical proportion as neither wanted mansuetude nor correction; for so it is described, Parcare Subjectos et debellire Superbos. Yet hath not the pulcritude of my virtues protected mee from the contaminating hands of these plebeians; for coming, solummodo, to have parted their sanguinolent fray, they yielded mee no more reverence than if I had been som Pecorius Asinus. I, even I, that am, who am I? Dixi, verbus sapiento satum est. But what said that Trojan Æneas, when hee sojourned in the surging sulks of the sandiferous seas, Hac olim memonasse juvebit. Well, Well, ad propositos revertebo; the puritie of the veritie is, that a certain Pulcra puella profecto, elected and constituted by the integrated determination of all this topographical region, as the sovereign ladie of this dame Maie's