John Betjemen’s poem Diary of a Church Mouse, mentioned on the What is poetry? thread, refers to the Harvest Festival. Probably the time of year with the lowest profile, is the Autumn Equinox, Michaelmas and the Harvest Festival. In England there are no public holidays or bank holidays between August and December and the Autumn Equinox is often overlooked. It tends to fall around the 21st of September while Michaelmas follows on the 29th. Michaelmas (which originally served as a harvest festival) is so archaic that it’s now only known for giving its name to an academic term. The Harvest Festival of Thanksgiving is probably the ultimate movable feast. Not to be confused with the American Thanksgiving (which takes place on the fourth Thursday in November), the Harvest Festival is dependent upon the weather and making hay while the sun shines etc and so there is no fixed date. That said - the Harvest Festival is often observed in Church of England parishes on the second Sunday in October (today). In Canada, Thanksgiving is a public holiday which takes place on the second Monday in October (tomorrow). Coincidentally this is also the date of Old Michaelmas Day which (under the Julian Calendar) falls on the 11th of October. This was traditionally the date when the archangel Lucifer (after being driven out of heaven by Michael and the other archangels) was said to have fallen to earth as the Devil and scrabbed himself on the briars of a bramble bush. He cursed and spat on the bramble’s berries thus poisoning them. Tradition has it, therefore, that blackberries should not be picked after this date.



(Revelers at the Blackberry Fair in Whitchurch, Shropshire which takes place on the first Saturday in October to ensure that it falls before Old Michaelmas Day)

I received an email today.  It wasn't sent just to me but to a number of people but the lady said she hoped we'd all said 'white rabbits' this morning.  I've reached the age of seventy-something without ever hearing of that custom which appears to be said to encourage good luck.  https://www.itv.com/news/channel/2015-05-01/why-do-we-say-white-rabbits-on-first-of-the-month  I'm not sure if it is confined to the first of December or is a monthly tradition.

Used in my childhood ie ancient - by those who touched wood and had all manner of ways and means to attract good luck. I recall thinking them then - as I do now - all daft. One had to say Three White rabbits three times on the first day of the month on waking, apparently - and it would seem there are daft people still doing it....... including having a rabbit's foot good luck thingy somewhere.
According to a google search just now, rabbits were introduced to UK by the Normans - seems a rather late addition since they provided food and fur and needed not a lot of hunting down. "Voici un lapin, " I guess was must have been followed by, "Noice. looking rare bit for the pot, Ta. An' a fur for baby bunting. Our lucky day, eh Wot, missus?" Free white rabbits for luck then..... possible.
Must stop - persons in white coats are here again for me.

It was the Romans! The University of Exeter has got a bit of bone to prove it! Details here, plus a picture of said evidence  - it is thought the historic bunny was kept as "an exotic pet". If Romans liked keeping rabbits as pets, it was inevitable that some (at least one male and one female) would eventually escape and manage to meet up somewhere. The rest is history.

I never say "white rabbits" - the adjective is unnecessary: "rabbits" repeated twice will keep all bad luck away. Hope we all chanted the mantra this morning - it is sorely needed here...

What Did The Romans Ever Do For Us?

PS I still have my ancient copy of Fabula De Petro Cuniculo.

Just read the warning about not (to) ire in hortum Domini McGregor. Great stuff - much better than those boring Gallic Wars.

Temperance wrote:

It was the Romans! The University of Exeter has got a bit of bone to prove it! Details here, plus a picture of said evidence  - it is thought the historic bunny was kept as "an exotic pet". If Romans liked keeping rabbits as pets, it was inevitable that some (at least one male and one female) would eventually escape and manage to meet up somewhere. The rest is history.

Indeed but although they can breed like, well rabbits, they actually took a long time to become established in the wild in Britain. As you say they were certainly not unknown to the Romans, who'd originally come across them in Hispania, but they were probably only present in Britain as a few domestic animals. Indeed the British rabbit population may well have died out completely with the Roman exodus, before being reintroduced 500 years or so later by the Normans. Rabbits remained primarily a farmed animal kept, for their meat and fur, in jealously-guarded walled warrens simply to stop them from escaping or falling prey to foxes etc. They only really started to become established in the wild in Britain after the 13th century but they had certainly become very common, and consequently regarded as a pest, by the 16th century.


Women hunting rabbits with a ferret, from the 14th century Queen Mary Psalter.

By the 19th century their numbers made them a serious agricultural pest but in the 1950s and 60s myxomatosis caused the rabbit population to crash by over 90%. While many crop-growers were doubtless pleased, the rapid loss of wild rabbits and their grazing contributed to the near-loss of several plant and insect species that require warm, closely cropped grassland. Rabbit numbers had been recovering until about 2010 when the arrival of rabbit haemorrhagic disease caused another crash in the population. So although rabbits can do well in Britain they are of course not true natives and despite being able to multiply rapidly their persistence as a common wild animal is by no means assured. Although the last thing anyone wants is a resurgence of the belligerent medieval type of rabbit:

MM wrote:

 Although the last thing anyone wants is a resurgence of the belligerent medieval type of rabbit...

Indeed no, MM. We all (well, most of us) want a liberal, equal society, but it is unwise ever to trust a rabbit, however cute or snuffly. Freedom for a rabbit inevitably means licence, as all gardeners know. A psychopathic cat or two is the only answer.

That picture of the medieval rebel rabbits will haunt me for some time. Could this be historic guilt for my own shameful part in the persecution of the local bunnies? I have tried to be reasonable with them, saying, pointing at the field adjacent to my cottage, "Of all this you may eat, but of this (my garden), you may not eat."

No rabbit has ever heeded the warning, or appreciated my desire to be understanding of their legitimate grievances. It is, and always has been, total war - them or us.

As if we didn't have enough to worry about...

Temperance wrote:

PS I still have my ancient copy of Fabula De Petro Cuniculo.

Just read the warning about not (to) ire in hortum Domini McGregor. Great stuff - much better than those boring Gallic Wars.

It's taken me all this time to get the joke, Temperance. Beatrix Potter never REALLY goes out of fashion - I went to a small museum about her with a friend (in the Lake District) back in the 1990s.

I'll wish everyone all the best for 2022.

Going back January 1st used to be a "Holy Day of Obligation" - a day when Catholics were expected to attend mass.  That isn't expected anymore, at least in the UK.

Edit: Just realised (in November 2023) that I forgot to put the apostrophe in "isn't". Oooops.

Temperance wrote:

PS I still have my ancient copy of Fabula De Petro Cuniculo.

Just read the warning about not (to) ire in hortum Domini McGregor. Great stuff - much better than those boring Gallic Wars.

We had that at school too. Alongside Asterix for non-specialist French.

One of the ladies (English) left the U3A Spanish class I attend left the class a little early to help set up a Thanksgiving evening in Acton * Trussell, a village not too far from Stafford.  There is an American lady who comes to the class who lives in the same village though whether she went to the Thanksgiving bash I don't know.  She's been with her British husband long enough to have an adult daughter.  I don't know the story behind an English village having a Thanksgiving 'do' though one online advert mentioned it being near St Helen's....... * We've mentioned Acton Trussell likely being the Stacton Tressell of Hinge & Bracket fame before on this website.

There might be an American connection through US troops having been stationed there during WW2, albeit that most US troops in Britain, at least until the final build up to D-Day, were airmen typically based in East Anglia. Ely Cathedral (Cambridgeshire) still holds an annual eve of Thanksgiving service for US Airmen stationed at nearby RAF Mildenhall and RAF Lakenheath (where serving USAF personel obviously mark the day itself). The church service at Ely ultimately traces its origins back to WW2 when American troops were invited by Westminster Abbey to commemorate Thanksgiving.

I'd not thought of the WW2 connection, MM.  Good thinking!.  I've not checked the name of the church in Acton Trussell.  Could it be named for St Helen (though I always thought it was named for St James).  I was thinking of St Helen's the town in Lancashire which is some considerable distance from Staffordshire.

Slightly off topic but appertaining to Boris J and his having renounced the American part of his dual citizenship, any Americans I have asked whether they would like at least a half of Boris J back have given a resounding "No!".

With regard to US soldiers and sailors celebrating Thanksgiving during WW2, Max Miller on 'Tasting History' has a topical youtube, which is as informative and entertaining as usual:

With the the start of Lent just a week away we're now well into Carnival season when authority often turns a blind eye to a certain degree of decadence and boistrousness after the confines of Winter but before the forty days of Lenten piety and abstinence. Accordingly last weekend was the occasion for my commune, Arles-sur-Tech, to celebrate its annual Bear Festival, la Fête de l'Ours, or in Catalan, la Festa de l'Ós. I didn't go this year but judging by all the flour, confetti and shaving foam still in the streets this morning, it was the usual riotous, slightly boozy, rough-and-tumble affair.

It's basically a pantomine bear hunt through the streets of the town led by the trapper Pigasse and his wife Rosetta (who's usually played by a strapping six-foot rugbyman in a blonde wig), plus the Bear of course in his goofy papier-maché mask. There're also several other traditional groups: the hunters and washerwomen, the enigmatic bótes and the tortugues, and all accompanied by a group of traditional Catalan 'cobla' musicians. It culminates with the bear being trapped in the central square where he is finally tamed, then ritually shaved with an axe, before being 'decapitated' to release his inner human soul (in local myth bears are already semi-human) and so welcomed back into society. This youtube was shot a few years ago but as I say it never changes much, although this year the weather was much kinder.



As well as at Arles sur Tech the same Festa de l'Ós, albeit with some variations, also occurs in the two neighbouring villages of Prats de Mollo and St Laurent de Cerdens: