Bringing In The May

You’re late.

The Mayday festivities have already begun, and you are late. Do you know what happens if we do not make haste? We shall miss the crowning of the May Queen. I made a wager with my brother that Margaret from just down the lane will win this year, and I would not for the world miss the expression on his face when he realises he owes me a shilling.

So come along – quickly now. This way… to the green.

It’s just beyond that copse. Do you hear the music? The cornopeans? And all that laughter from the noisy children?

Before we arrive, I ought to tell you something of the day itself. The first of May is a curious mingling of customs. We mark the coming of summer – though, between you and I, the morning air still carries a chill, does it not? And we celebrate fertility, renewal, and the promise of growth. “Bringing in the May,” we call it.

In fact, have you noticed every house and cottage we have passed has been decorated with wreaths and garlands of flowers and blossom? That is another way to bring in the May, although some do it to protect their home from untoward spirits. You know, fairies and the like.

Hmm? My complexion? Oh, yes. You are very kind. I rose before dawn to wash my face with the May dew. It must be done before first light, or the dew loses its powers. They say it preserves youthfulness, though whether there is truth in the matter, I leave you to decide.

Ah! There, through the trees. You see? The festivities are already in full swing.

The Maypole has been raised. Look at it. Look how prettily they’ve adorned it with garlands and greenery. And there, in the middle, stag’s horns. Do you see? A fitting touch, I think, for the New Forest.

And we are in luck – they have not yet crowned the May Queen. I suppose you’ll be pleased about that. Now then – where shall we go first? The refreshment tent, perhaps? I am feeling rather peckish.

Just look at the array! Buns, cakes, and slabs of gingerbread – fruit, too. I shall get us one of everything. And tea, of course, to wash it all down. Come, let’s sit down here and I shall tell you what is yet to come.

You have already admired the Maypole. Before long, the children will gather around it and begin their dances. In some places – more fashionably, of late – they weave coloured ribbons as they go, plaiting them into intricate patterns around the pole. It is quite the sight to behold.

Goodness, it is lively, is it not? Such cheerful noise.

Ah, do you see that little crowd gathered over there? They’re watching the Jack-in-the-Green. A traditional fellow, though not as ancient as some might claim – his origins only lie a few centuries past. In truth, he is but a man inside a wooden frame of leaves and branches. Likely a local chimneysweep. Still, he’s ever so curious, dancing to the music like that. Go on, have a look, I shall wait here.

Well? What did you think of him? Delightfully absurd, is he not? Ah, come, they are about to crown the May Queen now, so let us go and get a good vantage.

Here – this will do nicely. Now, you see all those young ladies assembled there, all in white? They’ve come from different schools – the best three from each, by all accounts – and they’re all hoping to be crowned May Queen. They say this particular tradition stems from when the ordinary people of the community would choose a lord and lady to preside over them for the day, but it seems now it’s only the Queen who holds the honour.

Why white? It’s to symbolise purity. Their names will be drawn soon, and the chosen girl shall wear a crown of flowers – another symbol of spring.

Ha! Did I not say so? Margaret! I knew it. Stay right there and watch her little procession. I must find my brother and collect my winnings.

…

There you are. Look – my shilling! Well earned, do you not agree?

Well then, what did you make of it all? It is rather lovely, is it not?

Still, next year, we shall aim to arrive on time, shall we? I cannot be expected to endure such suspense again. And besides, there is every chance my brother will insist upon a rematch…

Though if I am quite honest, I have a very good feeling about it already.

Bye-bye now, until next time.

A note from me:

This one was bittersweet to write, I must say. I am currently hundreds of miles from home and May is my favourite folkloric time of the year, with Mayday and Beltane (Bealtaine in Gaelic) festivities all around my neck of the woods.

Mayday celebrations go back a long way in England. Maypoles themselves were likely introduced by the Anglo-Saxons, and the practice of going outside early on the first of May to gather flowers and bring them inside also goes back centuries. Hawthorn blossom, especially, as it used to blossom on the 1st of May before the calendar changed in 1752 – it now blossoms around the middle of May, which is why you may not have seen any yet.

But what I’ve written here (and what we really know of them now) is based on the Victorian recreations. In fact, the Jack-in-the-Green character likely came about from a game between milkmaids and chimney sweeps in London, who would compete to see who could decorate themselves in the most garlands.

My Mayday publication is actually based on a 1852 article from the Illustrated London News – an account of a New Forest Mayday celebration in Burley. I’ll pop the illustration below. Today, in 2026, there are some wonderful May celebrations in Burley. If you’re local, I recommend finding one. The Green Man parade is my favourite. Be sure to wear green, obviously!

Happy Mayday :)