In olden days there had stood in the Strand a big May-pole, which was decorated on the first of May with flowers and ribbons, and round which sports, and dances, and great merriment were wont to take place; but when the Puritans were masters they exclaimed against this device, as they did against everything that savoured of pleasure, which they considered unholy. So the ancient May-pole, which stood a hundred feet high in the Strand, had been hewn to the ground; there were no more sports on May-Day. Indeed, there were few sports in England at all during that season of strict observance of the Sabbath.
Young men and maidens well-nigh forgot how to dance. They went softly, they laughed but little, because at any sign of outward rejoicing their elders frowned upon them. The faces of the men seemed to grow longer, the pretty curls on the maidens' heads were smoothed away beneath tight-fitting caps. It was not a genial time, and so now, when the sun shone, and the flowers burst forth, there arose a gentle murmur throughout the land: "Let us have our May-poles again."
London was, as usual, the first place whence this cry proceeded, and thousands responded to it--the king and the Duke of York among the foremost. Yes, they would have a May-pole, larger and finer than any previous one.
The citizens of London determined to make a display of their loyalty. We read in an old tract of the times, called "The City's Loyalty Displayed", how this tree was a most choice and remarkable piece. "'Twas made below bridge" (that is, below London Bridge), and brought in two parts up to Scotland Yard, near the king's palace of Whitehall, and thence it was conveyed, on April 14, 1661, to the Strand, to be erected there. It was brought with streamers flourishing before it, drums beating all the way, and other sorts of music. It was so long that landsmen could not possibly raise it; therefore the Duke of York, Lord High Admiral of England, commanded twelve seamen to come and officiate in this business.
They came, and brought their cables, pulleys, and other tackle, along with six great anchors. After these were brought three crowns, borne by three men, bareheaded, and a streamer displayed all the way before them, drums playing, and other music; people thronging the streets with great shouts and acclamations all day long. The May-pole then being joined together and looped about with bands of iron, the crown and cane ("the sceptre"), with the king's arms richly gilded, was placed on the head of it. A large hoop like a balcony was about the middle of it. Then, amidst sounds of trumpets and drums, and loud cheering, and the shouts of the people, the May-pole, far more glorious, bigger, and higher than any that had preceded it, was raised upright, "which", we are told, "highly pleased the merry monarch and the illustrious prince, the Duke of York, and the little children did much rejoice, ancient people did clap their hands, saying, 'the golden days had begun to appear'. A party of morris-dancers came forward, finely decked with purple scarves and their half shirts, with tabor and pipe--the ancient music--and danced round about the May-pole."
This went on for some time, and there never was seen again such a May-day as in this year of Our Lord, 1661.
From the windows of Somerset House Princess Henrietta and Agnes watched the ceremonies. The putting up and the decking of this token that "the summer had come ", aroused a more tenacious loyalty than ever.
Day by day, as they watched, Agnes's excitement increased; it was no use for Patience to tell her she should not be seen at the open window.
"I must, I must!" she cried; and, indeed, it would have been cruel to hinder her.
All over England that May-Day was remembered long afterwards. The king had come into his rights again, the people had come into theirs, and they would not be gainsaid.