Never had the Maypole been so gayly decked as at sunset onmidsummer eve. This venerated emblem was a pine-tree, which hadpreserved the slender grace of youth, while it equalled the loftiestheight of the old wood monarchs. From its top streamed a silkenbanner, colored like the rainbow. Down nearly to the ground the polewas dressed with birchen boughs, and others of the liveliest green,and some with silvery leaves, fastened by ribbons that fluttered infantastic knots of twenty different colors, but no sad ones. Gardenflowers, and blossoms of the wilderness, laughed gladly forth amid theverdure, so fresh and dewy that they must have grown by magic onthat happy pine-tree. Where this green and flowery splendorterminated, the shaft of the Maypole was stained with the sevenbrilliant hues of the banner at its top. On the lowest green boughhung an abundant wreath of roses, some that had been gathered in thesunniest spots of the forest, and others, of still richer blush, whichthe colonists had reared from English seed. O, people of the GoldenAge, the chief of your husbandry was to raise flowers!
But what was the wild throng that stood hand in hand about theMaypole? It could not be that the fauns and nymphs, when driven fromtheir classic groves and homes of ancient fable, had sought refuge, asall the persecuted did, in the fresh woods of the West. These wereGothic monsters, though perhaps of Grecian ancestry. On theshoulders of a comely youth uprose the head and branching antlers of astag; a second, human in all other points, had the grim visage of awolf; a third, still with the trunk and limbs of a mortal man,showed the beard and horns of a venerable he-goat. There was thelikeness of a bear erect, brute in all but his hind legs, which wereadorned with pink silk stockings. And here again, almost aswondrous, stood a real bear of the dark forest, lending each of hisfore paws to the grasp of a human hand, and as ready for the danceas any in that circle. His inferior nature rose half way, to meethis companions as they stooped. Other faces wore the similitude of manor woman, but distorted or extravagant, with red noses pendulousbefore their mouths, which seemed of awful depth, and stretched fromear to ear in an eternal fit of laughter. Here might be seen theSalvage Man, well known in heraldry, hairy as a baboon, and girdledwith green leaves. By his side, a noble figure, but still acounterfeit, appeared an Indian hunter, with feathery crest and wampumbelt. Many of this strange company wore foolscaps, and had littlebells appended to their garments, tinkling with a silvery sound,responsive to the inaudible music of their gleesome spirits. Someyouths and maidens were of soberer garb, yet well maintained theirplaces in the irregular throng by the expression of wild revelryupon their features. Such were the colonists of Merry Mount, as theystood in the broad smile of sunset round their venerated Maypole.
Had a wanderer, bewildered in the melancholy forest, heard theirmirth, and stolen a half-affrighted glance, he might have fancied themthe crew of Comus, some already transformed to brutes, some midwaybetween man and beast, and the others rioting in the flow of tipsyjollity that foreran the change. But a band of Puritans, who watchedthe scene, invisible themselves, compared the masques to thosedevils and ruined souls with whom their superstition peopled the blackwilderness.
Within the ring of monsters appeared the two airiest forms that hadever trodden on any more solid footing than a purple and golden cloud.
One was a youth in glistening apparel, with a scarf of the rainbowpattern crosswise on his breast. His right hand held a gilded staff,the ensign of high dignity among the revellers, and his left graspedthe slender fingers of a fair maiden, not less gayly decorated thanhimself. Bright roses glowed in contrast with the dark and glossycurls of each, and were scattered round their feet, or had sprung upspontaneously there. Behind this lightsome couple, so close to theMaypole that its boughs shaded his jovial face, stood the figure of anEnglish priest, canonically dressed, yet decked with flowers, inheathen fashion, and wearing a chaplet of the native vine leaves. Bythe riot of his rolling eye, and the pagan decorations of his holygarb, he seemed the wildest monster there, and the very Comus of thecrew.
"Votaries of the Maypole," cried the flower-decked priest,"merrily, all day long, have the woods echoed to your mirth. But bethis your merriest hour, my hearts! Lo, here stand the Lord and Ladyof the May, whom I, a clerk of Oxford, and high priest of Merry Mount,am presently to join in holy matrimony. Up with your nimble spirits,ye morris-dancers, green men, and glee maidens, bears and wolves,and horned gentlemen! Come; a chorus now, rich with the old mirth ofMerry England, and the wilder glee of this fresh forest; and then adance, to show the youthful pair what life is made of, and howairily they should go through it! All ye that love the Maypole, lendyour voices to the nuptial song of the Lord and Lady of the May!"This wedlock was more serious than most affairs of Merry Mount,where jest and delusion, trick and fantasy, kept up a continualcarnival. The Lord and Lady of the May, though their titles must belaid down at sunset, were really and truly to be partners for thedance of life, beginning the measure that same bright eve. Thewreath of roses, that hung from the lowest green bough of the Maypole,had been twined for them, and would be thrown over both their heads,in symbol of their flowery union. When the priest had spoken,therefore, a riotous uproar burst from the rout of monstrous figures.
