TOMORROW, September 14, was formerly known as Nutting Day and it used to be a school holiday to allow children to gather hazel nuts. This was important because there was an old belief that the Devil went around collecting nuts on this day and the objective was to get there before he did his worst.

The day was also celebrated as Holy Rood Day, the name rood meaning cross. Its more formal name was the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, sometimes known as Rood Mass Day.

The name rood also appears in the rood screens that were a cross-like feature of pre-Reformation churches, many being torn out of former Catholic churches during the Edwardine Visitations during the Reformation.

Despite that official vandalism, some rood screens have survived – there is a spectacular example in St Andrew’s Church at Aysgarth.

This one is said to have been removed from Jervaulx Abbey church during its destruction when its last abbot, Adam of Sedburgh, was executed at London’s Tyburn in 1537 for adhering to his Catholic faith.

It is said that while awaiting execution, he was confined in the Beauchamp Tower of the Tower of London where he carved his name on the wall – Adam Sedbar, Abbas Jorevall, 1537. A similar inscription appears on a beam in St Andrew’s Church at Aysgarth – it reads A.S., Abas anno Dm 1536. That date is when he took part in the ill-fated Pilgrimage of Grace but it is said he had earlier restored St Andrew’s Church at Aysgarth whilst he was the Abbot of Jervaulx, the church then belonging to the abbey.

The Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, known even in Anglo-Saxon times as Rood Mass Day, is believed to have originated when Emperor Constantine of Rome saw a blazing cross in the sky at noon on that day.

Holy mass was celebrated from that time.

In Yorkshire, after the mass of the day, the people went gathering nuts but it was also the time for harvesting.

An old saying said: If dry be the buck’s horn On Holy Rood morn, ‘Tis worth a kiss of gold.

But if wet it be seen, ‘Ere Holy Rood E’en, Bad harvest is foretold.

CONTINUING the topic of harvest time, one of the curious phenomena of the period is known as harvest lightning. Huge expanses of the sky may be illuminated by a single flash of lightning which is not followed by a crack of thunder.

In some areas it is called sheet lightning but no-one seems quite sure how or why it occurs in this manner at harvest time.

Some of the displays in the darkness of a late summer or early autumn evening can be extremely spectacular and also a little eerie because they are so silent.

There is a theory that such flashes of harvest lightning are nothing more than ordinary flashes, except they are reflected upon the clouds to give them that extra broad spread of silent light. However, there was a very ancient belief that lightning unaccompanied by rain had the power to break the stems of oat plants and to cut off ripening ears of grain.

There is a good deal of weather lore that features thunder and lightning but the term harvest lightning is seldom used. It is usually called sheet lightning. In early times, it was thought the crack of thunder was the result of clouds being torn apart by the action of the lightning, especially when accompanied by strong winds. However, lightning without thunder, which can occur at any time of the year, seems to have always heralded storms.

An old Scottish belief was that sheet lighting without thunder that occurred during the night as a pale colour, was the herald of unsettled weather, and if it occurred during the morning, then really bad weather could be expected. Here in England, it was thought that lightning without thunder after a clear day meant fair weather would continue.

A more general piece of lore said that if sheet lightning appeared in a clear sky during spring, summer or autumn, then heavy rain could be expected, whilst if it appeared during the night, strong winds may occur. The simplest piece of lore comes from the Roman poet Virgil (BC 70-19) who wrote: “Rain and wind increase after a thunderclap.”

In the past, it was even thought that thunder and lightning could be prevented or removed by the sound of ringing bells, particularly church bells. Church bells were rung in Austria to drive thunder storms from the locality and an old French ritual, popular in Paris, involved a prayer that said: “May the sound of this bell put to flight the fiery darts of the enemy of man, the ravages of thunder and lightning, the rapid fall of stones, the disasters of tempests, etc.”

APROPOS my reference to Jervaulx Abbey (above), and following my notes about Rosedale’s famous chimney (D&S Times, Aug 9) I have received an email from a former resident of Bainbridge. He refers to lead mining in the Dales and remembers a large chimney somewhere in the Dales whose purpose was to dispense the toxic fumes from smelted lead. He cannot recall precisely where the chimney stood but suggests there may be some remains.

My references suggest lead mining was concentrated in Arkengarthdale above Swaledale, and also in the Greenhow/Pateley Bridge area as well as to the northeast of Grassington. It dates from Roman times, the earliest mining being on the surface but later from shallow pits with water being deployed in the 16th century.

Water was used for a form of mining known as hushing when it was directed down the fell to remove the upper debris to expose the veins of lead. The smelt mills produced fumes which were regarded as a hazard to both plants and animals, consequently flues were built to carry away the fumes.

Mines became a profitable source of income for many landowners and in 1145, Count Alan granted Jervaulx Abbey a charter to mine lead and iron throughout his forest in Wensleydale. The monks also mined coal in the locality. Lead mines were being worked in Swaledale during the 13th century and a modernisation of techniques and equipment came about during the 1560s, with deeper mines being created along with an increased output.

One of the benefits was that the mines created an alternative income for small farmers but by the middle of the 19th century, the industry began to decline. By the early years of the last century, much of the Dales scenery had reverted to an agricultural landscape with a corresponding reduction in the population.

Some reminders of the mining industries can still be seen and among the scattered ruins, there may be the remains of a lead mining chimney or two.