RandomPalaver: Happy St. Swithin's Day!

Years ago, George Carlin railed against people "who haven't had a generous thought since St. Swithin's Day." (I hope I didn't get that wrong. George, or someone claiming to be George, has a website where he rails against people who wrongly attribute things to him on the Internet.)

Who is this St. Swithin (or Swithun)?  Here's what Wikipedia has to say:

Saint Swithun (or Swithin) (died 2 July 862) was an early English Bishop of Winchester, now best known for the popular British weather lore proverb that if it rains on Saint Swithun's day, 15 July, it will rain for 40 days and 40 nights.

St Swithun's day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain
St Swithun's day if thou be fair
For forty days 'twill rain na mair

Swithun was buried out of doors, rather than in his cathedral, apparently at his own request, so that the "sweet rain of heaven" could fall on his grave. In 971 it was decided to move his body to a new indoor shrine, and it is said that the ceremony was delayed by 40 days of torrential rain, a sign of Swithun's displeasure at the move.

A Buckinghamshire variation has

If on St Swithun's day it really pours
You're better off to stay indoors.

Not surprisingly, Swithun is regarded as one of the saints to whom one should pray in the event of drought.

Photo courtesy of Nina Aldin Thune.

Comments

[eggy]

This makes me think of perhaps my favorite Billy Bragg song, which is, in fact, entitled "St. Swithin's Day."

Please do a future posting on the Battle of Agincourt:

Thinking back now,
I suppose you were just stating your views
What was it all for
For the weather or the Battle of Agincourt
And the times that we all hoped would last
Like a train they have gone by so fast
And though we stood together
At the edge of the platform
We were not moved by them

With my own hands
When i make love to your memory
It's not the same
I miss the thunder
I miss the rain
And the fact that you don't understand
Casts a shadow over this land
But the sun still shines from behind it.

Thanks all the same
But i just can't bring myself to answer your letters
It's not your fault
But your honesty touches me like a fire
The polaroids that hold us together
Will surely fade away
Like the love that we spoke of forever
On St Swithin's Day