The month of July
July is the seventh month of the year in the Gregorian Calendar, with 31 days. The seventh month of the year was named by
Mark Antony for
Julius Caesar. The Roman calendar had previously called it
Quintilis, as it was the fifth month of their year.
The Dutch called this month Hooy-maand (‘hay-month’), and the old Saxon name was
Maedd-monath (because the cattle were sent to the meadows to feed) and
Lida aeftevr (the second mild or genial month). Just to confuse things, the Saxons also called this time of year
Hen-monath (probably ‘foliage month’), a word most likely derived from the German
hain, meaning ‘wood’ or ‘trees’. Another Saxon term was Hey-monath because at this time they mowed and made hay.
The old Irish name is
based on ‘Julius’, namely, Iuil. The Frankish name for the
month of July is related to Hewimanoth, meaning hay month, a name
that continues in modern Ásatrú as Haymoon. In American
backwoods tradition, this is Buck Moon.
In the French Revolutionary calendar it was called Messidor (harvest-month, June 19
to July 18).
Until the 18th century,
July was pronounced as the girls' name ‘Julie’. Even as late as 1798
Wordsworth wrote:
In March, December,
and in July,
'Tis all the same
with Harry Gill;
The neighbours tell, and tell you truly,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Wordsworth, Goody Blake and Harry Gill
July begins on the same day of the week as April every year and also as January in leap years. Astrologically, this is the month of the house
of Cancer (June 22 - July 22) and that of Leo (23 July - August 23). July’s
birthstone is ruby, signifying contentment
and courage, and cornelian, signifying content.
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July weather lore
A shower of rain in July,
When the corn begins to fill,
Is worth a plough of oxen,
And all belongs theretill.
In this month is St Swithin’s Day,
On which, if that rain, men say,
Full forty days after it will
For more or less some rain distill,
Till Swithin’s Day is past and gone
There may be hops, or there may be none.
Traditional (St Swithin’s Day is July 15)
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowers;
Of April, May of June, and July flowers.
I sing of May-poles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bride-grooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.
Herrick
In this month of July, eschew all wanton
bed-sports, and of all things forebear Lettuce.
Markham, The English Husbandman, 1635
A swarm of bees in May
Is worth a load of hay.
A swarm
of bees in June
Is
worth a silver spoon.
A swarm of bees in July
Is not worth a fly.
Warwickshire saying
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