The Week That Wasn’t
When 10 Days Vanished and Time Got a Reset
In the fall of 1582, the people of Italy, Spain, and Portugal went to bed on October 4th and woke up on October 15th. Ten days—gone. Vanished. Erased by the stroke of a papal pen. And no, this isn’t a tale from Narnia or Middle-earth, though it certainly feels like one.
It was, in fact, very real—and it all started with the sun.
Why the Calendar Needed a Makeover
The Julian calendar, introduced by Julius Caesar in 45 BC, had been faithfully counting the years for over 1,600 years. But it had a tiny flaw, it miscalculated the solar year by just under 11 minutes. That sounds small, but over the centuries, it added up.
By the 1500s, the calendar was off by about 10 days, and Easter, meant to align with the spring equinox, was slowly drifting.
Enter Pope Gregory XIII, who in 1582 announced a fix: the Gregorian calendar. His solution? Delete 10 days. Just… skip them.
And so it was: October 5th through 14th simply vanished.
Not Everyone Was On Board
Catholic countries adopted the change right away. Protestant ones? Not so much.
England and her colonies didn’t catch up until 1752, by then the calendar was 11 days off. To sync things, they jumped from September 2 to September 14.
People were not thrilled. Legend says they marched in protest, shouting, “Give us back our eleven days!”
It’s one of my favorite footnotes in history: proof that while we humans can contemplate eternity and pen verses about salvation, we’ll still riot if someone messes with our PTO. 😄
A Theological Reflection
All this fuss over lost days makes me pause. We humans are so bound to time—counting hours, measuring milestones, chasing deadlines. But God isn’t. He is the Alpha and Omega, outside time, beyond our clocks and fading calendars.
When we scramble to “fix” time, I imagine God smiling. Not mockingly—but lovingly. As if to say,
“You sweet little souls… trying to measure eternity with day planners.”
Time is a gift we’ve been given, not the ultimate truth. In genealogy, I chase down names and dates to tell a story. But the heartbeat of that story? It’s never just the date, it’s how they lived.
Genealogy Tip: Mind the Gap(s)
If you’re researching ancestors from before the 18th century, watch the calendar like a hawk. Between Julian and Gregorian switchovers, the new year starting in March, and those sneaky double-dated entry like “February 11, 1731/32,” it’s a genealogical jungle.
In England and its colonies before 1752, the Julian calendar ruled, and the year often started on March 25, not January 1. So don’t be surprised if your ancestor’s will is dated “February 10, 1699” and their burial record says “February 10, 1700.” Both could be right.
Blue’s Commentary (a.k.a. Cluckingham Palace)
Blue, my rooster and resident timekeeper, has informed me that he would never have let 10 days go missing without a proper investigation. His official ruling?
“If 10 days vanish, so does 10 days’ worth of scratch grain. This is an emergency, not a calendar update.”
He’s still filing a grievance.
Final Thought
As we navigate the ticking hands of time, whether through ancient records, spiritual reflection, or just trying to get dinner on the table, I’m reminded:
We count time, God redeems it.
So here’s to the week that wasn’t, and to the timeless truths waiting quietly in spaces between our days.