An old Devon legend, late frosts, and why I always wait until the 22nd of May
As any fellow gardener, farmer, or person who spends their days working outside will know, the weather plays an enormous role in what we do. This has been true for countless generations. We have always been trying to predict the best time to plant, and hoping, or praying, for the right weather. It is no surprise, then, that superstitions, folklore, and old traditions have played their part in how we farm. Sometimes more than I like to admit.
One of these old pieces of folklore that I have known for as long as I can remember is this old Devon legend of Franklin’s Nights.
There has been much debate about where this legend originated, but the story I was told centres on a brewer named Franklin. His sales of ale were in steady decline, the victim of the growing popularity of cider. After trying everything to reverse his fortunes, he eventually resorted to making a deal with the devil in exchange for his soul. The bargain was simple: the devil would send three nights of late frost to damage the cider makers’ apple blossom, putting an end to their harvest, and with no cider to be had, Franklin’s ale would be back in demand, and his business would thrive once more.
Those three cursed nights were said to fall on the 19th, 20th, and 21st of May. Whether or not that is truly where the legend began, I cannot say for certain. But as a farmer, it has always resonated with me deeply. I am always cautious about planting anything tender before those nights have passed. Each May, I watch the forecast and wait, and the 22nd always feels like something of a small celebration.
Old stories have a way of holding practical wisdom, even when they come wrapped in devils and bargains. Franklin’s Nights is one of mine.
