A potted history of Pro Test Ant ism and my family's place in the Reformation

Way back when – don’t ask me how way back, though 400 years rings bells for me – there was much trouble in Europe. A lot of people had gone off the Catholic Church, the Pope and often the King and /or Queen of where ever it was that they lived. So Martin Luther John Calvin and King Henry the Eighth got their heads together and invented a new version of Christianity called Protestantism. Those of you with no linguistic skills may need this word unpacked:

Pro = for,

Test = examine,

Ant, well everyone knows what an ant is.

Why this idea about examining ants, I don’t know. Maybe Proverbs 6:6 give us an insight: “Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise”.

So anyway, Henry, John and Martin sat around talking one night over a beer (some would have it that John Calvin had a cup of tea as he had problems with alcohol consumption) and came up with the general idea of Pro-test-ant-ism. They all went away the next morning to their respective countries, to work up the germs of ideas they had into a viable religion. Each of them was ultimately disappointed in what the others came up with

John didn’t like it that Henry saw the new religion as a way to get the divorce he so desperately wanted so that he could then marry someone else, some one who would give him a son and heir, but who was also prettier and better in bed, no doubt.

Henry didn’t like John’s version of Protestantism because John wanted to use it to outlaw dancing. In fact John wanted to outlaw making love in a standing position, which he was sure might well lead to dancing. Henry as we know loved to dance. And that’s not all he loved to do!!

Neither man liked Martins version of things basically because they didn’t like Martin. His incessant cabbage-eating made him unpleasant to be with. And he would insist on singing his interminable hymns at you, complete with stomping of feet and slapping of knees to keep time. Martin didn’t care what other folks thought of him, which is just as well.

Protestantism grew at great pace all over Europe and Catholic kings and bishops grew more and more upset. In France for instance a great clan of Protestants arose, lead by a man who was known as Hugh Gooey Nose. The King knew that if the Hugh Gooey Noses took over France he wouldn’t be allowed to sleep with his mother anymore. So distraught was he that he went to mummy in tears saying he was frightened and probably couldn’t sleep with the lights out, so she arranged to have the Hugh Gooey Nose lot murdered in their beds on St Bartholomew’s Day. Ten thousand to a hundred thousand French Calvinists died at this time.

My people the Gillards were among the Hugh Gooey Noses. Hardly surprising given the derivation of our surname:

Gill(s) = breathing apparatus (usually of fish though used colloquially to refer to the breathing apparatus of humans and other mammals)

Lard = dripping (well it drips when warm and therefore in liquid form)

These two words put together (Gill and Lard) refer to breathing apparatus that is dripping, i.e. a runny (or if you prefer a gooey) nose. We fitted right in there among the Protestants of France. That is until the Catholics turned nasty. A couple of us, at least escaped the persecutions and massacres, taking our skills as weavers to Protestant England, where no doubt we wove ourselves many handkerchiefs, and introduced the art of nose-blowing to the English.

There is much more to this fascinating tale but frankly I don’t want to have to do any more research. It was hard enough getting the facts straight in the above few paragraphs. And goodness knows, I’d hate to put anyone crook. Must go and blow my nose….