An Old May Custom - the Maibaum

The Maibaum in Konz, Kreis Saarburg

In choosing a blog post for each month, I want to share some history or custom that is mostly unknown here in the United States. If I have a good amount of time to work on the post, I will start a subject I know is going to take time because of the need to translate, research, etc. At other times, with the deadline ticking away, I choose an easier topic. Is it Murphy's Law that those are the posts that usually are the most difficult. To date, I have mostly been undefeated in maintaining my "once a month" posting, even with surprise obstacles, but this time I have failed. With my intended blog post for the end of April still in disarray, it is clear that "This may take some time," as my computer used to tell me.

This is not the subject I had intended to write about.  Luckily I received my monthly e-mail copy of the "Irscher Newsletter" in the midst of my frustration and found a topic I thought readers might find interesting. The Newsletter is a monthly report from my home village on club meetings, school concerts and any other special festivities. For the first time since I've been receiving it - over 10 years now - this thought struck me. If my great-great grandparents had not emigrated, I might still live in Irsch and some of the old customs, now mostly unknown to me, might be a part of my life, changed somewhat, but still there - as illustrated in the May 2014 Irscher Newsletter.

I began to investigate the custom of the Maibaum or May Tree. 

The Irsch, Kreis Saarburg, Maibaum

 Maibaum, Irsch, Kreis Saarburg, 72 ft high

May Day is still an important celebration in my ancestral village. According to the Irscher Newsletter, this year's Maibäume (May tree) "shone in original splendor." A large tree was cut down and put in place by men of the Volunteer Fire Department.  It is sturdily  braced because Maibäume have the tendency to fall on buildings and parked cars if not well supported (as articles in the Trier Volksfreund newpaper told me).  

The Irsch tree was approximately 22 meters (72 feet) high, one of the highest Maibaum in Irsch in recent years. When the tree trunk was in place, it was graced with a decorated wreath which had been trimmed with flowers and bands of colorful ribbons by the school children of the village. On May 1, as part of the Maibaum celebration, the children of the Irsch daycare center sang and danced around the tree to welcome spring together with their families and many other villagers.

The Newsletter elaborated no further but usually the May 1 festivities are followed by partaking of good food and, of course, a lot of Maibowle (May Punch) and Maiwein (May Wine)"

But there is another very old May Day tradition in the Rhineland.  May was and still is a time of courtship and romance. This also was not reported in the Irscher Newsletter. It really is not quite appropriate for newsletter articles as you'll understand as you read on.

The Origins of the Maibaum Celebration

The Maibaum custom was originally part of an old tradition called Mailehenbrauch. This was a form of village matchmaking dating back to the 17th century. It involved "loaning" the unmarried young women of the village to the bachelors for a certain period," folklorist Alois Döring says. "All of the unmarried young women in the village were auctioned off to the unmarried young men and each pair became a May couple," Döring continues. "Whoever paid the highest price was the May King and he had the corresponding May Queen."

But there were very specific rules attached. Each May groom was required to put up a tree decorated with colorful ribbons for his May bride as part of this custom. And this tradition is still observed in many Rhineland villages until today, possibly in Irsch too.

The Maibaum Customs Today

For young, unmarried men, the tradition of the romantic Maibaum has shifted somewhat more toward the fun of an excursion into the woods. This being ecologically conscious Germany, there are often special lots which grow young birch trees for this purpose. A young tree can be purchased and chopped down while enjoying some good Maibock (May Bock) beer with friends who are engaged in the same activity. In some rural regions of the Rhineland the girl still finds a Maibaum in her yard or on her doorstep. And pity the girl whose yard is unadorned. No young woman in Irsch would want that item of news printed in the village newsletter.

I found an article by a freelance writer, living in the Rhineland who did interviews with today's young women about the continuation of the old Maibaum custom and their reactions to it.

"When the girls look out the next morning, many ask themselves: who brought it?" That's how it was for 30-year-old Anke Baldus, when she got her first May tree 15 years ago. "You first had to have a huge girlfriends meeting," she says. "Then it was off to the village to ask people: who was at what May celebration. Who saw whom and could have transported a May tree like that?"  Anke has again received a Maibaum that year - from her husband.

Imagine - it’s early morning on the first day of May and a young woman peeks out from her front door. There it is! She sees what she’s been hoping for. Tied to a light pole outside her home is a tall, skinny birch tree with crepe paper chains and a heart with her name on it hung from its branches. 

To me it resembles the anxiety of "Prom" time in the United States. Will I be asked to the prom, wonders the US girl. Will I have a Maibaum outside my house on May 1 is the worry of the Rhineland girl.

One young woman's wish came true

As one writer said, "In other parts of the world, women might long for jewelry or flowers from their admirers. In the Rhineland, girls dream of waking up to a decorated birch tree on the first of May."

Bavaria's Maypole

Bavaria also celebrates May 1, erecting a maypole and placing it in the city square.  Some are constrcted very much like the Maibaum; others are much more ornate.  There is celebrating with dancing, singing, and drinking a specially brewed beer.  

Part of this whole tradition is that one village tries to steal the maypole from the neighbours. If they succeed with the theft, the safe return of the maypole is up for negotiation with ransoms involving copious quantities of beer and food. Some "Burschenvereine" (translates to something like "young guys' club") have specialized in stealing the maypoles that are most closely watched by the strongest security. Maypole stealing is governed by a pretty strict code of conduct: sawing or damaging the maypole in any way is absolutely frowned upon as is a non-payment of the ransom.   

Since I have ancestors from Bavaria as well as the Rhineland, where would I choose to celebrate May 1 next year?  Either would be fun, but the Rhineland customs have stolen my heart; whereas the Bavarian Maypole might itself be stolen.  Sorry Bavaria, the Maibaum comes with romance as well as celebration and will be there on May 2.

Sources:
http://www.bavaria.by/maypole-day-in-bavaria-germany
http://www.dw.de/may-day-tradition-in-the-rhineland/a-4220017
Karin Christensen, Of Maypoles and May Bock
http://germanfoods.org
http://www.dw.de/germany-an-unusual-way-to-express-love/a-2608908

Spring in the Saar Villages

Springtime in the Irsch of today.
Photo from www.irsch-saar.de

The first crocuses in my garden are showing, part of the reason my thoughts turned to the spring season as our ancestors knew it. When you are finishing your taxes, the allure of a spring day out in the open fields has an almost irresistable charm. Was it the same for the Meiers, the Rauls and the Hausers in their villages? What was spring like for them - a season to be longed for or one filled with work harder than most of us can imagine? Both those things, I believe.




Bird's eye view of the spring fields near Irsch. Photo from http://www.irsch-saar.de/

After the snow melted and the weather softened, it was time for planting. In the book, Hennerm Plou, the famous poet of the region, Ernst Thrasolt asks "do you hear the sap in the earth and the trees?' The farmer knew, from the smell of the air and wisdom of his father before him, that the plow should be made ready for the land.

According to the historians at the Roscheider Hof open air museum, the spring planting in the 19th century Saar and Mosel regions was, for the most part, still carried on the same way it had been for centuries.

Manure was spread on the fields before the plowing began. Then the soil was turned over with the plough. Most of the plows, called "Hackpfluge" were still made entirely of wood, fashioned by a cartwright. The farmer guided the plow pulled by a horse, an ox, or sometimes a cow, depending on the status of the farmer. Only the well-to-do farmers had a horse. The small-holdings farmers, the Kleinbauer, might have an ox or use cows both for field work and for milk.


Wooden plow in the collection of the Deutschen Historischen Museums, Berlin


Plowing with the Hackpflug left clods of earth which needed chopping and pulverizing by a harrow, a cultivating implement set with spikes. But on many farms, wife and children performed this labor instead - as well as removing stones turned up by the plow.

Once the land had been tilled, the seed could be sewn. This was done by means of a sewing cloth, which the planter carried on his front, rather like a half-apron. By pulling together the bottom edge of the sewing cloth with one hand and gripping it tightly, the farmer formed a cradle for the seeds. With his free hand, he would broadcast the seeds with a rhythmic motion as he walked the field. Common crops planted included oats, barley, wheat, potatoes, rye, clover and flax. Most farmers who lived near enough to the Saar to take advantage of the river climate also had a few vines for growing grapes.

Some seeds were planted using the horns of a cow or an ox. The tip of the horn was cut off so that the seeds could slowly come through. Different sizes of horns and how much of the tip of the horn was removed allowed for the planting of various sizes of seeds: beets, lettuce, and many other of the garden seeds could be dropped precisely using this method.

After the planting, the field was rolled flat with a heavy oak roller. This served two purposes. It pressed the seeds into the soil, and it would also flatten any remaining clumps of earth. This facilitated the swing of the scythe and made it easier and faster to cut the crops at harvest time



Spring along the Saar from direction of Beurig.

Although the plowing and planting was hard labor, it was not without its pleasures. The poet Ernst Thrasolt, who grew up in Beurig, just across the Saar River from the city of Saarburg, captures the joy of the farmer as the spring season arrives in a poem simply called "Spring."

The land is free!
Now we bring the plow from the shed.
Now it will go back and forth again and again.
Who would let his head hang?
See how clear is the sky!
An hour away the sound of the rushing Saar,
And the clods are so brown...

...behold the sun and the chaffinches and
the starlings and the larks and
the wagtails and the blackbirds and
the thrushes and all the rest.
Children, fetch the plow!

Around the village and in the meadows, the trees in bud would soon bloom. Ernst Mettlach who comes from a village about 10 kilometers from Trier says that in former times most farm fields had Streuobstwiese, literally "stray fruit meadows." In the pastures all over the region stood apple trees and other fruit trees as well. The "stray" trees had very high, knotty tree trunks. A traditional apple tree, says Ernst, looked like a very old man. (The modern orchard trees of today have very short trunks so it is easier to harvest them, but since no light reaches the ground, useful vegetation cannot grow beneath them). The Streuobstwiesen orchards gave space to a lot of animals and plants. These old orchards could be compared to a house where the ground floor was used by the cattle as pasture while the second floor produced fruit and gave space to birds like little owls.

Pear and plum trees blossomed too. One of the most important types of plum trees in the region is the Zwetschge. It is a tree that looks very similiar to the apple tree and very often grew in the Streuobstwiese orchard. When the trees were filled with blossoms in the later part of spring, apple, plum, and pear all together in some orchards, it looked like snow had fallen, for the ground was covered with white petals.

Edeltrud Heiser of Trier who grew up in Irsch remembers the apple orchard there and the spring wildflowers, including the the Maiglöckchen or May bells which we know as lilies of the valley.
Thus amid the hard work of spring, there was also beauty which was there for those who plowed and hoed and planted the land. It was the time of rain storms, rain showers and sun, of the brown, newly tilled soil brimming fresh green shoots and potential. Best of all, there was the long-term hope for the joy of a plentiful fall harvest.




Irsch on a spring evening. www.irsch-saar.de

The Farmer's Life in Poetry

Sometimes you find a description of the German homeland where you least expect it - in poetry, for instance.

I was given a book of poems by Ewald Meyer when I visited Irsch in 2002. It was a very special remembrance of my visit. I also brought home several local history books. I puzzled over the local histories and put the book of poems aside for when I had "more time." One morning as I was finishing my coffee, I picked up Hennerm Plou, the book of poems, to see if I could read any of it. What I found were word paintings of the lives of the farm families who lived near the Saar. They were so evocative I could almost smell the wet earth of the spring, feel the sweat of the summer on my face, taste the roasted potatoes fresh from the fire and hear the calling, calling of the frogs in the stream.

The book I was enjoying was written by Ernst Thrasolt, who was born Matthias Tressel in Beurig in 1878. He was the son of a farmer/ wine-grower/linen weaver. His mother came from a family of shoemakers. Tressel became a priest in 1904; and, after the death of his father, he changed his name to Ernst Thrasolt and began to write using that name, especially the poetry which reflected his love of the place of his birth and the memories of his youth. He also chose to write many of the poems in the Mosel Frankische dialect of the Trier region where he had grown up. Today, there are not many people who can read this dialect. The poems which I am summarizing have been translated into high German and reworked by Ewald Meyer. They are my prose interpretations (admittedly not expert) of poetry that pays tribute to the farmers who sowed, cultivated, harvested and loved the land near the Mosel and Saar.

ON THE WINE HILL

Come with me to the wine hills - today the heavens are clear. Today you can see far. You see how the Saar foams so wild and white; and when you reach the very top of the wine hills, you still hear it rushing. You see the whole world that lies below. You see how the many fields lie next to each other. And you see the meadows that are already so green, the buttercups in bloom, and the trees blooming, blooming. The grain has already come up and the rape is gold. The first clover can soon be cut for the cattle. And it is always a fine thing to see the bed linens bleaching, almost shining, by the side of the stream. That is when the flax and the spinning and the weaving of that cloth come to mind.

Up here we bind the grape vines, and below us runs the plow. Between wine hill and plow, between furrow and vine, that is our way of life on our farms. And year in and year out all life and all nature go back and forth; spring and fall, summer and winter between wine hill and plow. With dung spreading, digging, planting, cutting, tying, binding up, and harvesting. With plow, sower, mower, sickle and plow, so must we all struggle and toil.

So long as the sun can be seen and the Saar can be heard rushing, this race of men would not exchange with king or emperor. Yes, when you are on the wine hill, you know what heaven and homeland is; what sun and Saar and the farming life is.

EVENING PEACE

The potatoes did thrive and the sacks stand full and thick, one sack behind another dense throughout the whole field. And the children roast potatoes in the fire; an enormous flame, and they scrape the potatoes and hold them on the fire. The potatoes are so delicate and so white inside and so hot. They burn mouth and fingers. God be thanked, the potatoes did thrive!

And the sacks are tossed on the wagon; it takes a strong man to lift and to carry them. The thick smoke from the fire is so blue and comes so near that one person can hardly see another. All the furrows in the field are very red with evening light. And each face is red too and joyful, shining in the setting sun.

Listen, the time for the rosary is rung and the children run: they must go inside (the church). And leisurely and contented each wagon goes home with the blessing of God. From all sides they come, wagon after wagon. And everyone sits so tired and so contented at the top of them. It is late already and dark by the time the stall and cellar doors stand open and the soup is on the table and the children come storming home from the church.

AUTUMN

Just smell! There is not a corner in the house that is not full of the marvelous scent. In stable and stall and kitchen and bedroom and cellar comes a scent of blessing over everything. For a hundred meters over field and meadow and wine hill and mountain and valley there is the smell of hay and its aftergrowth and of potatoes and carrots and apples and pears and grapes and nuts and newly made Viez (hard apple cider). And it is the scent of the meadow saffron and fall asters as well. And you are contented and the pigs and cow are contented too. The summer with its work went on and on but now comes rest. For nothing was our worry and misery; we are safe another year.

WINTER

Doors and windows are closed all round. The cattle are fed: pigs and chickens, horse and cow too; now we have rest. Let us put our feet under the stove and praise God for winter. How good the warmth feels. Listen, only hear how the wind whistles outside. Is the ice already forming on the Saar?

And now the plans (for next year) can be made. Oats and barley and wheat will be in the Hasar*, potatoes go in Krangels* and in the Acht* and on the Font*. Clover is put once again in Schadall* where it grows so good...

The peace in the winter is very good for man and horse and cow so that they are not sick and weak when summer comes. Let us praise the Lord God on high for the winter.

*The names of the open fields where each farmer can plant his share of the land.