Odd this day

Coates
4 min readSep 2, 2023

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Today is the 271st anniversary of the day 2 September was followed by 14th, when England changed to the Gregorian calendar. We did this 170 years after Pope Gregory first came up with it, because he’d come up with it, and it was therefore beastly and Popish.

Portrait of Gregory XIII by Lavinia Fontana — an old man in a posh chair, wearing white robes with a red velvet hat and cloak holds a piece of paper and a handkerchief, and looks out of the painting at us

People were so weird about it, in fact, that they insisted on celebrating ‘Old Christmas Day’ on 6 January — and this continued right up to the 20th century (according to Steve Roud’s The English Year — customs, festivals and folklore “from May Day to Mischief Night”).

In 1912, folklore collector Ella Leather recorded the following words from a Herefordshire man: “My grandfather always kept up Christmas on Old Christmas Day”, said WP of Peterchurch, “none of your new Christmas for him; it must be the real Christmas, too, for the Holy Thorn blossoms and the cattle go down on their knees at 12 o’clock in remembrance” I have talked to many people who firmly believed this; though they have not seen it, their parents or grandparents have

…and, according to Bentley’s magazine in 1847, the cattle who got down on their knees to mark the nativity could not only contemplate the mysteries of the divine, they were also aware of the change from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar

It is said, as the morning of the day on which Christ was born, the cattle in the stalls kneel down; and I have heard it confidently asserted that, when the new style came in, the younger cattle only knelt on December 25, while the older bullocks preserved their genuflection for Old Christmas Day, January 6.

None of this, though, was as ridiculous as the people rioting in the streets bellowing “Give us back our eleven days!” Or at least, they would have been ridiculous if anything even resembling this had ever happened.

Painting depicting people rioting, one of whom seems to be gesturing at a clock, as if that is the focus of their unhappiness

In the words of historian Robert Poole, although there is

no better illustration of the collective idiocy of the crowd … The riots, like the Snark, are universally known but defy detection.

As one reference work puts it, slightly shamefaced: the riots

have been mentioned in a number of reputable texts about the change, including the Encyclopædia Britannica as recently as its 15th edition in 1976. But the evidence for these riots is scant.

There are two sources for the story — one being a satirical magazine which imagines “fires … kindled” in Smithfield, the other William Hogarth’s 1755 painting An Election Entertainment, which shows not a riot but Whigs feasting in a tavern.

a tavern dinner organised by the Whig candidates, while Tories protest outside. The Tories are carrying an antisemitic caricature, and a Tory banner bearing the words “Give us our Eleven days” lies on the floor. Inside, one Whig candidate is kissing a woman, while a girl tries to steal his ring; the other is listening to a drunken bore. In the foreground a maimed soldier sits on the floor while a patron pours gin into his head wound.

If you peer very closely — or look at this blow-up — you can just make out a banner on the floor which says “Give us our Eleven Days”, which a Whig is supposed to have stolen from a Tory campaigner

Detail of Hogarth painting showing Tory banner bearing the words “Give us our Eleven days” on the floor, and a maimed soldier sitting on the floor while a patron pours gin into his head wound.

In other words, the evidence of the riot is Hogarth, a satirist, suggesting that a Tory would carry such a banner and a Whig would knock him on the head with the stick he’s holding and nick it.

The satirical magazine was published by Lord Chesterfield, who championed the Calendar Act, and its piece finishes with the following sentence which basically means “Ha, ha, idiots — I won.”

This popular clamour has at last happily subsided, and shared the general fate of those opinions which derive their support from imagination, not reason.

The Oxford History of England says “the bill … passed without difficulty in parliament, but aroused much antagonism outside … for some time the most popular cry in the country was ‘give us back our eleven days’.” People were definitely pissed off.

Roy Porter, in English Society in the Eighteenth Century, says people might have quite reasonably feared a loss of wages, but where mathematician Gerald Whitrow, author of Time in History, got this from is anybody’s guess:

when the British government decided to alter the calendar, so as to bring it into line with that previously adopted by most other countries of Western Europe, and decreed that the day following 2 September should be styled 14 September, many people thought that their lives were being shortened thereby. Some workers actually believed that they were going to lose eleven days’ pay. So they rioted and demanded ‘Give us back our eleven days!’ (The Act of Parliament had, in fact, been carefully worded so as to prevent any injustice in the payment of rents, interest, etc.) The rioting was worst in Bristol, in those days the second largest city in England, where several people were killed.

Grumbling about infernal papists, yes; actual riots and deaths as a result? Complete balls.

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Coates
Coates

Written by Coates

Purveyor of niche drivel; marker of odd anniversaries

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