A Curse

                                                           Beautiful England last week in the North
 

Dear Reader, 

 St. Swithun's Day, July 15th, is a day which, according to folklore,  the weather for a subsequent period is dictated.  It is said, if it rains on St. Swithun's Day it will rain for 40 days, but if it is fair, 40 days of good weather will follow.

St. Swithun was Bishop of Winchester from 852 to 862.  At his request he was buried in the churchyard where rain and the steps of passerby might fall on his grave.  According to legend his body was moved inside the Cathedral on July 15th, 971, when a great storm ensued.

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I find this story very interesting.  Some of you will already know my views about digging up skeletons, sacred bones, of dead people.   It simply is not the correct thing to do, it is a violation, and as we all know Shakespeare put a curse on anyone who dared to move his bones.  No one should have move St. Swithun.  He left instructions of what to do with his remains and these should have been obeyed.

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From Dorothy Wordsworth, July 15th, 1802 in North Riding

'Arrived very hungry at Rievaulx ....at an exquisitely neat farmhouse we got some boiled milk and bread; this strengthened us, and I went down to look at the ruins. Thrushes were signing, cattle feeding among green-grown hillocks about the ruins.  These hillocks were scattered over with groveler of wild roses and other shrubs, and covered with wild flowers.  I could have stayed in this solemn quiet spot till evening, without a thought of moving, but William was waiting for me, so in a quarter of an hour I went away.'

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A Curse

on those who plunder the earth,
and violate sacred places ......

A curse on those who disturb
and steal gently-bandaged skulls,
legs, arms, and finger-bones,
jewels: perhaps a pearl bracelet,
a coal ring, hair pins, or a mosaic plate,
set out lovingly with food
for the long journey home.
Who have lain there, at peace,
for many thousand years,
the sand, the desert winds, the rains,
nature's bed.

A curse on those whose
laughter and excitement
fills the air, stealing the remains,
transporting them to people
in white coats,
who dissect their dignity,
stick labels on them,
give them to museums
to enlighten an ice-cream-licking public.

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With very best wishes, Patricia