February – in bits

According to church rules, Easter is celebrated on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox.

(An accurate calculation is much more complicated, but this is near enough for most of us.)

But what has Easter got to do February?

Only with Easter determined is it possible to back-track and date Lent when it is traditional give up things, possibly sweets or chocolate or the like.

But what has Lent got to do with February?

Just before Lent comes Shrovetide, the four days before the fast that provide a good reason and enough time to get rid of all the sweets and chocolate or the like that can't be consumed during Lent.

Forget chocolate and sweets, which our rural wouldn't have had, and consider giving up say, eggs, instead and when Shrovetide starts off with Quinquagesima Eve the way is open to enjoy egg feasting that continues to the present day

In the north Quinquagesima Eve is known as Brustin Saturday, named after a particularly thick and crumbly pudding or in other areas after a sensational waffle-type creation cooked on a gofer iron. Elsewhere the same day was often referred to as Egg Saturday.

Following a day of rest on Quinquagesima Sunday the shrovetide experience surged towards excess on Collop Monday with frantic egg fryers across the county consuming copious Collops which were eggs fried on a doorstep-thick rasher of bacon.

In the poorer rural areas like South Zeal it was traditional to begging for Collops, and fat.

The Collops to be consumed and the fat to be kept for next day.

Vegetarians that otherwise might have felt excluded from these annual celebrations were catered for in Cornwall where Collop Monday was not recognised but Peasen Monday was; with a pea-soup menu.

Then came Tuesday, and for those that aren't already cooking them, the day provided a magical method of getting rid of eggs and became the still popular Pancake Day.

For those that frown at the Halloween trick or treat night as an American import might consider the fact that the eve of pancake day in Devon was Dappy Door Night when gangs of youths almost terrorised their neighbourhood battering on windows and running away, mutilating doors, unhinging gates, dousing passers by with water and soot and singing their merry ditty;

Nicky, nicky nan, eggs in the pan,

Give us some pancake and we'll be gone,

But if you give us none,

Uz'll throw a great stone,

And down your door shall come.

Most will be aware of February's favoured day, the 14 th , and its association with love but will be less aware of the early church's dilemma with the Roman festival of Lupercalia, a bawdy bonanza of close contact celebrations. Like many other festive days of pagan pleasure it was decided to superimpose on the pagan past the influence of a respectable saint. Valentine was selected and still provides the romantic touch to the day.

It was more likely that the 15 th was the day for Lupercalian celebration but with Valentine taking the passion out of it there remains only one way to celebrate it.

On the 15 th of February 1971 decimal currency was introduced and Britain caught up with the proposal made in 1699 by Isaac Newton, who was then Master of the Mint, that there should be 100 pennies to the pound.

St. Milburga's Day, 23 rd February, may hold little significance to Devonian's today but it was certainly celebrated by one of its celebrated residents in 1886 a year after first feeling somewhat let down on it a year earlier and then uplifted almost instantly.

Not exactly a law, but more a deep-rooted fear of incurring divine wrath, it was customary to reprieve a condemned man if he miraculously thwarted the gallows three times in one session; not that this happened often. John Lee accused of killing his employer Emma Keyse in Babbacombe, Devon, found guilty, and sentenced to hang by the neck on this day in 1885. Lee had protested his innocence and spoke of prophetic dreams assuring him that he would not die. The evidence against him included bloodstains on his clothes, the presence of the murder weapon in his room, and the fact that he was known to hate Emma Keyse. Apart from this the police had nothing to go on.

Come the day of execution, February 23rd, the gallows trap door at Exeter gaol was successfully tested and Lee stepped on to it, prepared to swing. But the door failed to open. Re-tested, it opened perfectly. So again Lee got ready for the drop, and again the trap stayed shut. This whole farce was repeated one more time before the executioners gave up, blaming warped boards. Lee's death penalty was instantly commuted to a long stretch behind bars, and by the time of his release his escape from the gallows had converted him from villain into something of a hero. John 'Babbacombe' Lee toured the halls as The Man They Couldn't Hang, emigrated, and died in America in 1933 - of natural causes.

© Roy & Ursula Radford