It’s time we Britons feted our long-lost saint days once again
Did you enjoy St George’s Day? Surely you cannot yet know. It turns out that the feast of England’s patron saint, and that of quite a few other nations, isn’t on April 23 – or earlier if you’re Jeremy Corbyn. Easter Week displaces every other festivity, so St George is being shifted, in a nice way, to next Monday in the case of the C of E.
The Morris dancing and mock jousting and real ale drinking to celebrate the day can now take place twice over. As a holiday it’s not quite up there with St Patrick’s Day as an occasion that embraces near enough everyone, but it’s a cheerful festivity that brings people together.
There are lots of other holidays that we could be celebrating besides the other national days of St David (Wales) and St Andrew (Scotland). One which has been revived in a bad way is Hallowe’en – the eve of All Saints and All Souls – which has displaced the very Protestant celebration of Guy Fawkes (poor man). Except now, it’s not just to do with dressing up as ghosts and the day of the dead; it’s an Americanised horror fest, featuring rubbish chocolate in ghoul shapes.
How about making more of Midsummer – the feast of the birth of St John the Baptist? His feast day on June 24 used to be a kind of summer Christmas, a celebration of the summer equinox.
This celebration unapologetically took over the fun bits of pagan festivities, like the bonfires the night before and rolling burning cartwheels down hillsides on the day. Indeed, right up to the Reformation, which spoiled pretty well everything, the night before was an occasion for huge municipal processions bearing tapers – a kind of river of light – through every town, with a carnival element, including pageants, thrown in.
Like so many festivals, it’s also a celebration across many parts of Europe. And if we want to reconnect with the culture of Europe – and now is the time – this is one way to go.
There were any number of saint days before the Reformation banned them, especially under the baleful direction of Protector Somerset; one of the chief effects of Protestantism was to take holidays away.
But some festivities survived. Michaelmas, the feast of St Michael (and All Angels), in September was one of the quarter days, when rents would be collected and courts held. It was, moreover, an occasion for a good dinner with the Michaelmas goose fattened specially. That deserves a revival.
And there’s a lot to be said for bringing back the whole Twelve Days of Christmas, starting on Christmas Eve and going through to Epiphany. January 6 – with the main festivities on Twelfth Night, the evening before – the day when the Three Kings came to baby Jesus, was the culmination of the festivities.
It’s still celebrated that way in Spain. Instead of which, modern Britain by then is well into the abomination that is Dry January. Like so many festivities, it has its own nice things to eat – like the French galette des rois, a tart with a crown.
Celebrating saint days isn’t just nostalgic; it’s a way of celebrating the cycle of the year in a way that’s blessedly non-commercial and often tied up with the seasons. They connect us with the past and with the culture of our European neighbours, and beyond. Happy St George’s Day for next week, then – a saint from Cappadocia honoured around the world. Nothing insular about him. Or the dragon.
read more at telegraph.co.uk/opinion