Saint Swithin's Day

Saint Swithin’s Day is celebrated in the UK on July 15.  There is a commonly known superstition concerning the weather, which is supposed to be similar to whatever occurs on St. Swithin’s Day for a total of forty days.  That would imply hot and muggy, here in the U.S., with our drought continuing.  A forecasted dry spell might be welcome relief in parts of the UK, however.

Swithin was Bishop of Winchester, and prior to receiving his post, tutored the future King Ethelwulf of Wessex, serving as one of Ethelwulf’s counselors when he acceded to the throne (in 852 AD).  According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, Swithin’s consecration as Bishop took place on, or about, October 30,^, 852.

According to Chambers’ Book of Days, the deceased Swithin was reported to make appearances during a period of reconstruction around Winchester, about a century after his death (Swithin died in 862 AD). He made an appearance nearly a millennium later, as well, in Walter Scott’s “Waverley”.

‘The view of the old tower, or fortalice, introduced some family anecdotes and tales of Scottish chivalry, which the Baron told with great enthusiasm. The projecting peak of an impending crag which rose near it had acquired the name of Saint Swithin's Chair. It was the scene of a peculiar superstition, of which Mr. Rubrick mentioned some curious particulars, which reminded Waverley of a rhyme quoted by Edgar in King Lear; and Rose was called upon to sing a little legend, in which they had been interwoven by some village poet,

Who, noteless as the race from which he sprung,

Saved others' names, but left his own unsung.

The sweetness of her voice, and the simple beauty of her music, gave all the advantage which the minstrel could have desired, and which his poetry so much wanted. I almost doubt if it can be read with patience, destitute of these advantages, although I conjecture the following copy to have been somewhat corrected by Waverley, to suit the taste of those who might not relish pure antiquity…’

Michael Bruce

Robert Southey described poet Michael Bruce as "A youth of real genius, whose life was embittered and shortened by poverty". The author of "Elegy Written in Spring" died on July 15, 1767, at the young age of 21.  Having achieved a fair measure of success by this age, one wonders what he could have produced had he lived longer. 

Sir Walter Scott seems to have held a different opinion than Southey, at least in comparison to William Knox, who managed to live into his mid thirties.  Scott comments in his journal on December 8, 1825: 'Talking of the vixisse, it may not be impertinent to notice that Knox, a young poet of considerable talent, died here a week or two since. His father was a respectable yeoman, and he himself, succeeding to good farms under the Duke of Buccleuch, became too soon his own master, and plunged into dissipation and ruin. His poetical talent, a very fine one, then showed itself in a fine strain of pensive poetry, called, I think, The Lonely Hearth, far superior to those of Michael Bruce, whose consumption, by the way, has been the life of his verses.

Napoloen's Surrender on the Bellerophon

On July 15, 1815, the Napoleonic Wars officially ended, when Napoleon Buonaparte surrendered to Captain Frederick Maitland on board the HMS Bellerophon.  The Bellerophon was decommissioned two months later. 

Napoleon ended up on the Bellerophon as he was trying to escape to America following his defeat at the Battle of Waterloo (June 18, 1815).  Maitland was stationed off the coast of Rochefort when he received word that Napoleon may attempt to flee.  Napoleon realized he was trapped, and opened negotiations with Maitland.

Walter Scott discusses this episode in history in his "The Life of Napoleon Buonaparte":

...Buonaparte was put to considerable inconvenience by the shrewdness and tenacity of the noble negotiator, and had not forgotten them when, in 1815, he found himself on board the Bellerophon, commanded by a relation of the noble earl [Maitland was related to Lord Lauderdale]. It is indeed probable, that, had Mr. Fox lived, the negotiation might have been renewed. That eminent statesman, then in his last illness, was desirous to accomplish two great objects—peace with France, and the abolition of the slave trade. But although Buonaparte's deference for Fox might have induced him to concede some of the points in dispute, and although the British statesman's desire of peace might have made him relinquish others on the part of England, still, while the two nations retained their relative power and positions, the deep jealousy and mutual animosity which subsisted between them would probably have rendered any peace which could have been made a mere suspension of arms—a hollow and insincere truce, which was almost certain to give way on the slightest occasion. Britain could never have seen with indifference Buonaparte making one stride after another towards universal dominion; and Buonaparte could not long have borne with patience the neighbourhood of our free institutions and our free press; the former of which must have perpetually reminded the French of the liberty they had lost, while the latter was sure to make the Emperor, his government, and his policy, the daily subject of the most severe and unsparing criticism. Even the war with Prussia and Russia, in which Napoleon was soon afterwards engaged, would, in all probability, have renewed the hostilities between France and England, supposing them to have been terminated for a season by a temporary peace. Yet Napoleon always spoke of the death of Fox as one of the fatalities on which his great designs were shipwrecked ;3 which makes it the more surprising that he did not resume intercourse with the administration formed under his auspices, and who might have been supposed to be animated by his principles even after his decease. That he did not do so may be fairly received in evidence to show, that peace, unless on terms which he could dictate, was not desired by him...