May Day Morning

[tree_and_leaf]

May Day in Oxford means chiefly one thing: getting up and over to stand below Magdalen tower, in order to listen to the choristers welcome in summer.

This year things were somewhat complicated (particularly for those deprived souls, like me, who live in East Oxford), thanks to a tradition of less antiquity which has grown up: that of jumping of Magdalen Bridge into the Charwell. Which sounds amusing until you realise that in much of that bit of the river, the depth is less that 3ft: last year there were an unreasonable number of serious injuries and the council decided to close the bridge.

However: I had, in fact, taken precautions and insured that I was on the right side of the bridge (blinking groggily). I got to the tower at about quarter to six; a large crowd had already gathered, including a party of jovial morris dancers and a man dressed up as Jack in the Green, although it's possible he was supposed to be a Christmas tree. Yet for all the pagan associations we tend to have with May Day, the Oxford ceremony at least begins as a Christina act of worship, though it's debatable how far the crowd is aware of this. Things were good tempered, though there were a number of people who looked distictly groggy, and though it was a grey and damp morning, the blossom trees by the Botanic Gardens proclaimed it spring beyond a doubt.

At six the clock chimed, and then the choirboys began to sing: the Hymnus Eucharisticus, which is used as a grace in the college on occasion, and the haunting tune to which was composed by a fellow, Benjamin Rogers (possibly in the eighteenth century). Using it to open the ceremony, though, is more than college pride: it celebrates, after all, God's prescence in matter and his involvement with the world, which is not a bad context for rejoicing in the gifts of nature. All terribly Franciscan, really, though of course the tradition is one of those typical immemorial Oxford things which originate in the nineteenth century!

There followed a brief prayer thanking God for the joy of summer and natural beauty, and then a peal - Stedmans, I think. The birds were waking up by now, and their calls mingled with the great solemn gladness of the bells. That always makes me want to cry.

After that, the choirboys metaphorically tossed aside their surplices, and sang madrigals. All very jolly - but I always value the first ten minutes most/

Here is a link to a rather over-wrought Holman-Hunt painting depicting events on the tower

http://www.artrenewal.org/asp/database/image.asp?id=11205

Comments

[harriet-wimsey.livejournal.com]

EEEEEE!!! It's just like in Gaudy Night! It's hard to believe sometimes that Oxford is a real place with real traditions, since my only experience of it comes from books.

[tree_and_leaf]

Well, there were more people who had had a little too much to drink, and no Reggie Pomfret, but other than that... Bits of Oxford haven't changed much since then, despite the awful traffic and the chain stores on Cornmarket.

[sammee42.livejournal.com]

It sounds lovely!! Did you go all by yourself?!

I really missed May Day. I think it is a lovely tradition. It is actually a nice tradition to gather 'round and hear the choir sing, even if it did originate in the 19thC. The madrigals are my favourite, though, and that's not necessarily reverent at all...

[tree_and_leaf]

No, my young man accompanied me.... (though he's current;y in Canada)

No, madrigals aren't especially reverent - but they just contain too much fa-la-la-ing for me!

[aervir.livejournal.com]

I had ice-cream in the English Garden on Monday, which isn't too bad, either; but your description of May morning sounds so lovely (maybe apart from the damp and grey weather)!

And I do miss those strangely dressed up Morris dancers. :)

[tree_and_leaf]

Oh, the English Garden is lovely - but so was Magdalen, despite the weather.

[themolesmother.livejournal.com]

It sounds wonderful, and I've always wanted to go and listen. We lived in Reading, so it wasn't unfeasible but I'm afraid I have a chronic getting up in the morning problem.

May Day here is very jolly - people give each other little boquets of lily of the valley called muguets as good luck gifts. Our nearest small town has a brocante - a cross between an antiques fair and a car boot sale - on 1st May every year which is great fun. We always go and stroll round the stalls looking for bargains.

MM

[tree_and_leaf]

That sounds a lot of fun, too.

i tend to forget how close Reading is, but it's really not far off (we have a lovely view of the power station from the hill at the back of our garden...)

[dolabellae.livejournal.com]

Ahh, the bittersweet ache of nostalgia... On the only time I ever managed to wake up in time, the speaker-thing on the tower wasn't working, so the singing came out in a bit of a blart. And there was a whole bottle of champagne which I and the friend I was with found couldn't be taken near the bridge, so we ended up sharing it with the morris men. Still, the memories are beautiful. Good to think of the enchantment continuing...