In the island of Lewis, in the west of Scotland, there prevails a custom of sending a man very early on May-day to cross a certain river, believing that if a woman crossed it first the salmon would not come into the stream for a year.
May-day festivals were not confined to the British islands. They were found, with variations suited to the different races, all over Europe. In France, the day was consecrated to the Virgin, and young girls celebrated it by dressing the prettiest one in white, crowning, and decorating her with flowers, and throning her under a canopy of flowers and greens, built beside the road. There she sat in state, while her attendants begged of passers-by, for the "Lady of the May," money, which was used in a feast later in the day.
In Toulouse, there was an ancient custom of giving a prize of a golden violet for the best poem. This custom held its place for more than four centuries. May-poles also flourished in France, and had gilt pendants.
The Dutch May-pole was still different, being surrounded by trees stuck into flower-pots, and ornamented with gay-colored flags, and hoops with garlands and gilt balls hanging. Another sort had wooden dolls made to represent the figures of peasants, nailed against the pole by their hands and knees, as though climbing it. There were also figures of birds and people. In some parts of Germany it was the firm belief of the common people that certain ill-disposed beings met on a high mountain on May-day to dance and feast, with no good intentions to their human neighbors. Accordingly on the day before, every family was careful to have a thorn of a certain kind, which was stuck into the door as a protection.
AN OLD-TIME MAY-DAY IN "MERRIE ENGLAND."
The Scandinavians, whose first of May is not very balmy, had of old a curious fight between Summer and Winter. Winter—or the man representing him—was dressed in skins, armed with fire-forks, and threw snow-balls and pieces of ice. Summer was dressed in green leaves and summer dress. They had a mock fight which was called "Driving away Winter and welcoming Summer," and in the Isle of Man, where Norwegians had rule for many years, this custom lingered until very lately.
But, as the years went on, these merry games died out, and a few years ago May-day was in London simply the festival of chimney-sweeps and milk-maids, certainly a falling off from the times of King Henry VIII. The only traces of the old custom of going a-Maying were the garlands of the milk-maids and the Jack-in-the-green of the sweeps. The garland (so called) was made of silver plate, borrowed for the day, and fastened upon a sort of pyramid. Accompanying this droll garland were the maids themselves in gay dress, with ribbons and flowers, and attended by musicians who played for them to dance in the street. Sometimes a cow was dressed in festive array, with bouquets and ribbons on her horns, neck and tail, and over her back a net, stuck full of flowers. Thus highly ornamented, the meek creature was led through the streets.
The sweeps brought out the Jack-in-the-green, which was a tall cone made of green boughs, decorated with flowers, gay streamers and a flag, and carried by a man inside. Each of these structures was followed by a band of sweeps who assumed certain characters, the fashion of which had been handed down from the palmy times of May-day.
There were always a lord and lady who wore ridiculous imitations of fashionable dress, and made ludicrous attempts to imitate elegant manners. Mad Moll and her husband were another pair who flourished in tawdry, gay-colored rags, and tatters, he brandishing a sweep's broom and she a ladle. Jim Crow and a fancifully bedizened ballet-dancer in white muslin, often swelled the ranks, and the rest of the party rigged out in a profusion of gilt paper, flowers, tinsel and gewgaws, their faces and legs colored with brick-dust, made up a comical crowd. But even these mild remains of the great festival are almost entirely banished to the rural districts, and are almost extinct there.