Eleanor Parker’s book, on the Anglo-Saxon Year, is a wonderful book. It has a poetry about it, that also provides an insight into how Anglo-Saxon thought the world works. For a non-Old-English speaker, it, also, really gives some understanding of the language. It reveals that for the Anglo-Saxons, Winter’s End was on the 7th February. We are now in the season of ‘lencten’. This probably comes from ‘lenghtening days’ or Spring as we call it. The word eventually got absorbed into the Christian calendar, giving us the name of the fasting season, which is ‘Lent’.
So Winter began, for the Anglo-Saxon, on 7th October and ended on the 7th February. January was called ‘Gēola‘ the month of Yule. February ‘Sol-mōnaþ‘ which is Mud month. The Venerable Bede in the 8th Century calls this the:
‘month of cakes which they offered to their gods in that month’.
Bede tells us that before conversion to Christianity, the Anglo-Saxons had two seasons – Winter and Summer. Winter began on the first full moon of October, which they called Winterfylleth. The summer was called ‘sumor’ or ‘gear’ which developed into our word ‘year’. As in: ‘he was a boy of 10 summers.’
Roman, Celtic and Saxon Winter’s End
There is some sense in Winter’s End on February 7th. Lambs are being born; buds and shoot are appearing on branches and poking up from the cold earth. So, their winter is essentially, the time when nothing is growing, while ours is more aligned to the coldest period.
The Roman author Marcus Terentius Varro divided the Roman Year into 8 phrases and his Winter/Spring divide is also on 7th February. This is when, in Italy, the west winds began to blow warmer weather. So farmers ‘purged’ the fields, readying them for planting. They would be cleared of old growth and debris. Then blessed, weeded, pruned with particular attention given to preparing the grain fields, the vineyards, olive trees and fruit trees.
The Celtic year began at Halloween, and the spring begins with Imbolc, a week earlier than the Saxon on the 1st of February.
Anglo-Saxon Winter
In the section on Winter, Eleanor Parker gives a poetic description of winter. What seems particularly interesting about it is that the harshness of winter is often paired with descriptions of the ruins of Roman Civilisation. So, the despair of winter, the barren soil, the fight for survival is made more melancholic by the comparison to failed civilisation. Nature battering away at the useless ruins, and the destruction of people’s dreams.
Here, is a flavour of the juxtaposition of the bleakness of winter and the sadness of lost society. It is from ‘The Wanderer’ an alliterative poem from the Exeter Book, dating from the late 10th century. I have presumed to change a couple of words to make it a little more accessible.
Who’s wise must see how ghostly it has been
when the world and its things stand wasted —
like you find, here and there, in this middle space now —
there walls totter, wailed around by winds,
gnashed by frost, the buildings snow-lapt.
The winehalls molder, their Lord lies
washed clean of joys, his people all perished,
proud by the wall. War ravaged a bunch
ferried along the forth-way, others a raptor ravished
over lofty seas, this one the hoary wolf
broke in its banes, the last a brother
graveled in the ground, tears as war-mask.
“That’s the way it goes—
the Shaper mills middle-earth to waste
until they stand empty, the giants’ work and ancient,
drained of the dreams and joys of its dwellers.”
Translation Dr. Aaron K. Hostetter.
Winter and Old Age
As I read this, I wonder if it is a tradition that began in the cold of Scandinavia? England, at least Southern England, can often have mild, rather than ferocious winters?
However, there is also an idea about the circularity of life and the interconnectedness of everything. There are 4 Seasons, 4 Ages of Man, and the cycle was from childhood to old age, from Spring to Winter. We start young, and become vigorous, and then we decline and eventually die. And so does the world of the Anglo-Saxons. The world of Adam was young, restored to vigour by the coming of Jesus. Now the World was in its old age awaiting the Apocalypse, before the Day of Judgement. So Winter was connected with Old Age and Death.
Bede’s Metaphor for Winter
Parker recounts a beautiful image of Bede’s. The King of Northumberland is thinking of taking his wife’s religion. He, therefore, invites the Christian evangelist, Paulinus to his court. Inclined to convert. He asks the opinion of one of his pagan advisers, who answers to the effect.
‘We are in the Great Hall, gathered warm with friends and family around the roaring fire, with Winter raging outside. A sparrow comes in from a hole in the end wall, flies through the warm of the Hall, and flies out through the other side. Such is life. The Hall is this world, we are the Sparrow, and as pagans we have no idea what happens before we enter the Hall, nor what happens after we leave. How much better it is to embrace a religion that can give us certainty as to what happens when we leave the hall.’
Lovely image, although, the pagan adviser does seem to have made his mind up to try Christianity? . What I like about it is that it echoes feelings I have. We as a species worry about what happens after death. It seems to many so final, to others unknowable. But I think ‘I don’t worry about what happened before I was born, so why should I worry about what happens after I die?’ It’s the same state of non-being. It gives me some comfort that I’m going back where I came from.
For the Ancient Grecian Winter looked at my Post on Hesiod
For the Roman Festival of Winter look at my post on the Festival of Brumalia
On This Day
1812 – Dickens born in Portsmouth. His father was the son of a Butler and a clerk in the Royal Navy Pay Board. He has much in common with Mr Micawber. His mother, Elizabeth Dickens was a source for the character of Mrs Nickleby. Dickens told a friend that his mother came to him exasperated by the stupidity of Mrs Nickelby. Dickens said words to the effect: ‘Little did she know that Mrs Nickleby was based on her’. Here is a section of Nicholas Nickleby that makes the point.
Nicholas Nickelby From Chapter 1
‘Mr Nickleby looked about him for the means of repairing his capital, now sadly reduced by this increase in his family, and the expenses of their education.
`Speculate with it,’ said Mrs Nickleby.
`Spec—u—late, my dear?’ said Mr Nickleby, as though in doubt.
`Why not?’ asked Mrs Nickleby.
`Because, my dear, if we should lose it,’ rejoined Mr Nickleby, who was a slow and time-taking speaker, `if we should lose it, we shall no longer be able to live, my dear.’
`Fiddle,’ said Mrs Nickleby.
`I am not altogether sure of that, my dear,’ said Mr Nickleby.
`There’s Nicholas,’ pursued the lady, `quite a young man—it’s time he was in the way of doing something for himself; and Kate too, poor girl, without a penny in the world. Think of your brother! Would he be what he is, if he hadn’t speculated?’
`That’s true,’ replied Mr Nickleby. `Very good, my dear. Yes. I will speculate, my dear.’
Speculation is a round game; the players see little or nothing of their cards at first starting; gains may be great—and so may losses. The run of luck went against Mr Nickleby. A mania prevailed, a bubble burst, four stock-brokers took villa residences at Florence, four hundred nobodies were ruined, and among them Mr Nickleby.’
Mr Nickleby ends up dead having falling 202 ft from the top of the Monument. In 1810 Elizabeth’s father, Chief Conductor of Monies in the Navy Pay Office was found guilty of embezzling £5,689 3s 3d.
Full text of Nicholas Nickely here.
First published in February 2023, republished on 7th February 2024, 2025, On This Day addedd 2026
