Happy May Day, known as la Fête du Travail (Labour Day) in France. This was the only day of the year when our village newsagent (now retired) didn’t open. The day is devoted to May Day parades, family outings and the sale of sprigs of muguet (lily of the valley), given as tokens of friendship and good luck. So have a virtual sprig courtesy of Life on La Lune.  

I have fond memories of celebrating 1^st May when I was a student in Oxford about a century ago. My friends and I got up at the crack of dawn and cycled down to Magdalen Bridge to listen to the choristers sing at the top of Magdalen College Tower. A tremendous crush of people remained silent during the ethereal chanting. Afterwards, we danced to jazz bands in the High, which was closed to traffic. Not a lot of studying was done that day.

Origins of giving muguet

I’ve written before about the 19^th-century origins of 1^st May as Labour Day (see link below). Today I want to focus on the significance of the muguet, whose origins date back much further.

In past times, people celebrated romance on 1^st May, not on 14^th February, unlike today. Lovers gave each other crowns of spring flowers. Charles IX took this a step further in 1561, when he offered a sprig of muguet to every lady in the Court.

The tradition of giving these bell-like flowers with a delicate scent took hold. Its links with Labour Day were strengthened in the early 20^th century, when the grands couturiers gave sprigs of muguet to their workers and clients.

However, for a long time, the symbol of Labour Day remained the wild rose. Apparently, when Maréchal Pétain inaugurated Labour Day officially in 1941, he considered this symbol too proletarian and substituted the muguet.  

Vente à la sauvette  

Another peculiarity of 1^st May is that la vente à la sauvette (sale in the street) of muguet is permitted. On this day, private individuals can sell muguet without being subject to taxes or penalties. Naturally, this is hedged around with all sorts of restrictions, mainly to prevent competition with licensed florists, namely:

• The flowers must have been picked in the wild and not cultivated. They must be sold rootless, without the addition of other flowers, vegetation or embellishment.
• Private sellers are not allowed to set up stalls, tables or any kind of semi-permanent installation to sell the sprigs.
• They must not set up within 40m of a licensed florist.

It hardly seems worth the bother to me, but last night’s TF1 news showed whole families at work picking and assembling the sprigs, so I guess it must bring in some much-needed cash for some. The going rate this year is reckoned to be €2 per sprig.

We have our own pot of muguet, which has flowered obligingly for today. However, since it counts as cultivated, we are not allowed to sell it. The traffic past our gate is negligible, anyway.

 

In other news

Last week marked the 25^th anniversary of the first time we saw our house. Was it really a quarter of a century ago? Last Tuesday, the weather was much the same as it had been on that 26^th April 1997: warm and sunny after a slightly chilly early morning, with skies of an improbable cobalt blue. The countryside was bursting with spring green. A cuckoo called in the woodland West of the house – a good omen, apparently.

Last Tuesday, a cuckoo called in the same spot in the woodland that now belongs to us. I doubt if we will make another 25 years here, but I like to think it’s a good omen for the time we will continue to spend in this house.

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