Day 7... Daffodils and May revelry

May Day has come and gone. The English celebrated May Day until the Puritans started to object to the revelry and party atmosphere that the day would bring.

"That it was May thus dremede me" Romaunt of the Rose

In New England, the Puritans attacked the Maypole. In 1630 Governor Endicott of Massachusetts marched a posse to Merrymount, where the profligate Morton had established a Maypole, hewed down the polo itself in God's name, and solemnly dubbed the place Mount Dagon, in memory of the Philistine idol that fell before the ark of the Lord.

In early American history we read of the "Rise and Fall" of the May-pole. Hawthorne in his "Twice Told Tales" tells us that they who danced round the May-pole were to pour sunshine over New England's rugged hills and scatter flower seed throughout the soil.

The downfall of the early American May-pole, 1628, is thus vividly portrayed by Hawthorne:

"Not far from Merry Mount was a settlement of Puritans. Life for them was dismal. They went together not to keep up the old English mirth, but to listen to sermons hours and hours long. As they toiled through the forests they observed the silken colonists sporting round the May-pole, some in skins of deer and wolves, playing blind man's bluff. Some sang ballads and told tales, and it is to be remembered did affirm that when a psalm was pealing from their place of worship, the echo often came back with a chorus of 1 jolly-catch' and a roar of laughter," and so we read on how the "Puritan of Puritans," Endicott, with his keen sword assaulted the hallowed May-pole, and down it fell. "Amen" echoed his followers, but "the May-pole worshipers groaned for their idol." The tale relates "that the sky grew darker and the woods took on a more somber shadow ."

A sedate and Victorian version of May Day emerged in the 19th century.  Full of young girls in white dresses and holding flowers, may baskets and may poles returned with all the merriment of the Robin Hood era of England.

"The daffodils were fair to see They nodded lightly on the lea, Persephone! Persephone!"

Wait! What has May Day to do with my little plot of land? Well, my two girls, were fond of dressing up and having tea parties on the lawn. One year they dressed in fancy long dresses and danced ribbons around one of the few poles standing that held up the greenhouses.

As I mentioned, grampa Frank was a florist. He built the first greenhouse here around 1935. Over the next 30 years, he would add on two more greenhouses and a front connecting walk that finally made up about 4,000 square feet of flowering plants. Now, all that is left is the cement foundation of his first greenhouse. He tore down all the greenhouses in 1970. He was 80 years old and tired of talking care of all that glass and stoking the coal furnace that heated the houses all winter. He died the following year.

The greenhouses were built on cement foundations. About 30" tall with flat iron bars embedded in the cement to hold the framing in place. All the wood was redwood, moldings of different configurations to form the sills, the window panes, the drain off. A series of poles held the gears, wheels and cranks that turned the vents in the peaks to let out the intense summer heat.  Sheets and sheets of glass where periodically white-washed int he summer.  Iron pipes ran under the redwood or cedar benches and back to the coal furnace that was under the shed where he rang up his customers orders.



Dave and Me in front of greenhouse and shed

 The shed was a tiny building attached to the first greenhouse. A 10' x 20' wood structure with doors that branched off into the greenhouses and one window and door in the front facing the house.  I remember the coal deliveries. The coal trucks from Pennsylvania would let down a shoot and coal would pile up in bins in the cellar of the shed. There was a trap door and crude steps to get into the small space and cast iron furnace which provided the necessary heat. 

When I moved back here in 1978, the shed, cement foundation, yards and yards of pipe, hundreds of flowerpots, boxes and boxes of sheets of glass and enough redwood framing was here to build a small greenhouse were still here. Frank had intended to rebuild one small greenhouse, which is why he left one cement frame standing.  The shed eventually had to be torn down. The cellar with furnace was filled in with dirt. The chimney broken apart for brick walkways and borders of my flower beds and only a few poles remain. The May Pole is one of them.




2011

 A wee neighbor lass called it a secret garden the day she discovered the enclosure last year. It is a secret. But the secret is only left in my brothers and my minds. No one else remembers the flowers, the hot, wet dirt smells, the butterflies and birds that would be trapped inside this glassed in garden. The piles of dirt we played in, the hoses of water to sip from, the glory of a garden 12 months of the year.


I finished my special "object". Now I am waiting to see how it turns out after it dries, fires and turns out... will keep you posted!



Want me to send you an email notice of my next post?  Sign up right here:
Subscribe to I saved a homestead by Email

"The first of May is garlnnd day,
And chimney-sweepers' dancing day;
Curl your locks as I do mine,
One before and one behind."