The Mortuary Cloth of the Clothiers’ Company
The assumption of Miss Strickland that the mortuary cloth in the possession of the Clothiers’ Company at Worcester was the pall used at the funeral of Queen Catherine, the first wife of King Henry VIII, who was buried in Peterborough Cathedral, has been, upon examination, refuted. At a recent meeting of the Archæological Institute at Cambridge, the Rev. C. H. Hartshorne read a paper on the funeral of Catherine of Arragon, and produced a document from the Rolls’ Court which had never been consulted before, and which gave a full account of the Queen’s funeral. The rev. gentleman afterwards alluded to the life of Catherine of Arragon, by Miss Strickland, who says that the pall used on this occasion is now in the possession of the Clothworkers’ Company at Worcester. Mr. Hartshorne then produced this pall, which he had been allowed to bring with him. It was spread out and examined, and it clearly appeared that it could not be that used at the Queen’s funeral. It consisted of three or four old capes [copes?] put together, and it was utterly impossible to recognise it from the description given in the document produced from the Rolls’ Court.
WEATHER RHYMES AND SAYINGS.
If the moon on a Saturday be new or full
There always was rain and there always will.
If it rain on Good Friday or Easter day,
It’s a good year of grass but a sorry year of hay.
If Easter be early,
Or if it be late;
It’s sure to make
The old cow quake.
The weather’s always ill
When the wind’s not still.
When the wind is in the East
It’s neither good for man nor beast.
A storm of hail
Brings frost in its tail.
A May wet
Was never kind yet.
As the day lengthens
The cold strengthens.
A rainbow at night
Is the shepherd’s delight.
When the reds are out at night
It’s the shepherd’s delight,
But when out in the morning
It’s all the day storming.
At New Year’s tide
A cock’s stride:
By Twelfth-tide
Another beside.
When Bredon hill puts on his hat,
Ye men of the vale, beware of that.
(This alludes to the rain-cloud settling on the hill.)
A peck of March dust is worth a king’s ransom.
When the new moon “lies on her back,” as the saying is—that is with its concavity upwards, it is expected to be a dry time, “the rain being kept from running out,” but, vice versa, it will be wet.
It is said that if the little beetle, the Carabus, should be trodden upon, rain will fall. This little glittering insect runs about only in fine weather.