Bristol's Green Man procession, outside The Green Man Pub, Kingsdown, May 5 2024.
Over the weekend 4th-5th May, there have been May Day or Bealtaine festivities up and down the British Isles.
In the past these have been trivialised by the MSM as pseudo-Pagan-Arthurian performance nonsense. Most likely organised by wannabee hippies born in the wrong century, and with very little relation to actual local legends, an excuse to sell a load of Woo-Woo tat to the tourists.
But this year I noticed a bit more respect creeping in to news reports. Here's an example, from GB News:
The sniffy attitude is still there (mentioning that the “Spanish sailors” have been dropped from the Padstow event, presumably because of DEI), but at least they interview locals who explain how important the day is to them.
They even talk about Morris with respect, not the ridicule we've become used to.
And it really doesn't matter that the “hobby horse” figure dancing through the crowds, which is seen around Britain in many guises, at many festivals, is far older than some local legend about the town's womenfolk seeing off Spanish sailors!
The ancient root of May Day festivities are fertility rites to ensure a good harvest. And not incidentally, the fertility of the local maidens.
Young girls dancing round the Maypole is such a blatantly sexual ceremony that Cromwell banned it. Here's a useful website with an explanation: https://www.historic-uk.com/CultureUK/May-Day-Celebrations/
When I was at Primary school in the 1960s, we did maypole dancing, and when I lived in Stroud in the early 2000s I lived in the magnificently named “Paganhill” which once owned the tallest Maypole in England!
Unfortunately, by the time I lived there, the Maypole had gone again!
So I have a soft spot for these local ceremonies. Now I'm in my later years, I'm exploring my life-long, non-ritualistic Paganism. The easiest way I've found to do this is to follow my local Morris Side, Pigsty Morris, from Bristol.
This year I saw them at the Wassailing at Horfield Community Orchard in January, and on Sunday I followed the “Green Man”, or Jack-in-the-Green, on part of their annual trek round the backstreets of Bristol (and the backstreet Pubs of Bristol, an important component of all such ceremonies, and good for the local economy)!
To be accurate, Pigsty Morris members were part of this event, although the official name of the group is “Green Man Morris".
They spend a total of 7 hours (with an hour for lunch) walking, dancing, playing instruments, and Bristol is VERY hilly. No way would I have the stamina - I only managed 3 hours, just tagging along with them!
About 60 people of all ages followed the Green Man. At the top is my photo of them performing their strenuous stick dance, outside the appropriately named The Green Man pub in Kingsdown.
At the end of the day, they stop on Horfield Common, where the children enjoy ripping the Green Man apart!
Although this particular ceremony is a pseudo-pagan revival in Bristol, it's very much like the ‘beating the bounds’ - another excuse for a day of frivolity, dressing up, and drinking - which WAS a local tradition.
I made a video of my own thoughts on this, essentially a clerically and politically approved procession, to reinforce and keep clear, the Parish boundaries.
But no doubt the day was used to incorporate much older traditions.
In an era when few ordinary people could read signboards, “Mere Stones" were erected to remind them where the boundaries were.
So our walk around the back alleyways (which took us around a church, maybe accidentally, but a nice reminder that churches were often built on pagan sites), had the same effect, of making you feel more embedded in your neighbourhood.
Families came out of their houses to watch, film, and cheer the Jack. The leader of the Morris dancers cried out to them “a happy Summer to you”.
The streets I walked through with them, called High Kingsdown, is geographically the natural northern ramparts of Bristol, where civil war fortifications were built. You can feel the history under your feet.
It's the same gut feeling you get when walking around ancient sites in the countryside. The past can feel very close, as if time is not linear.
Of course, some towns have gone full-on pseudo-Pagan, the most famous being Glastonbury. Here's a video by Glastonbury Gabriel, showing brand new forms of celebration:
But as you watch, I'd like you to notice what's missing: No “Tranz” regalia, no foreign flags. Because if everyone around you is temporarily identifying as dragons, knights, witches, and rival musicians in mad costumes, it's kind of hard to say “look at my blue-hair identity, I'm special”!
This type of dress-up fun day out is part of our British cultural scene. Its harmless, it's not pretending to be “real" Paganism, but it still follows the Celtic calendar of the Seasons which is based on the farming year.
I'm very happy to see young people involved in these ceremonies. There is not a hint of Woke, and that's part of the enjoyment. It helps them understand they live in a real life community, even if, most of the time, they hardly speak to their neighbours.
I really love rhe fact that Padstow are utterly resolute in sticking to May 1st for their celebrations irrespective of the weekend!!
Happy belated Beltane.