The All Fool's Day tradition probably began in France during the Sixteenth Century, when the beginning of the New Year was observed on April and was celebrated as New Year is today with parties and dancing late into the night. In 1582, however, Pope Gregory introduced a revised calendar for the Christian world wherein the New Year fell on January 1. Communications being what they were in the Sixteenth Century, it took some time, possibly even years, for many people to even hear word of the change, while others obstinately refused to accept the reform. So in many areas New Year's Day continued to be celebrated on the first day of April. People who had accepted the new calendar played tricks on those who had not, and referred to the unfortunate victims of such pranks as "April Fools," sending them on a "fool's errand" (an invitation to a non-existent party, for example) or attempting to make them believe that something which was true was actually false. The practice evolved into an annual tradition, eventually migrating to England and Scotland during the Eighteenth Century, being introduced to the American colonies by British and French settlers.

I know that’s a curious title, but it happens to be the title of this painting by Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones. It is one of a series called the Perseus Cycle, commissioned in 1875 by the Tory statesman (and Prime Minister in waiting) Arthur Balfour to decorate his London home. Don’t you find it heartening that senior politicians of the day were so cultured, and so immersed in classical literature, that they should seek to line the walls of their homes with illustrations from Homer? (If you look carefully, there’s a guy fighting with some sort of serpent in the picture.) I may scoff, but if I had the bottle - okay, let’s face it, if were master in my own home - I would have filled my walls with similar pictures, the only difference being that the model would have been Emma. Sadly, there wasn’t a Mrs Balfour to pose for these paintings - the cousin he had hoped to marry died of typhoid. Perhaps that explains Balfour’s most famous utterance: “Nothing matters very much, and most things don't matter at all."

[Monday, 30th March, 1959] Took Emma Jane to the Allerton last night. Although she can look old enough (just about) we seldom go to the pub on our own, but she was on. Since our first venture into a pub, she drinks Pimms Number One, complete with umbrella and all the shrubbery. (The first time, she got a fit of the giggles when the barman brought it over.) Tonight, just before we left, I insisted that she try a Drambuie - without telling her the significance of course. The idea of her drinking her own pussy-juice appealed to my imagination, even if it is a private joke between me an KC. She had one sip and decided she didn’t like it. Then my Uncle Arthur came over and introduced himself. Emma blushed. Uncle Arthur then offered to buy us a drink, which I politely declined as it was almost time to go for the bus. However, he asked the barman what we were drinking and sent over two more Drambuies. So I had to drink all four. That’s more than enough pussy-juice for anyone.