_Old Memorandum of the Months._
Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November,
All the rest have thirty and one,
Except February, which hath twenty-eight alone.
[Illustration: MARCH.]
--Sturdy March with brows full sternly bent
And armed strongly, rode upon a ram,
The same which over Hellespontus swam;
Yet in his hand a spade he also hent,
And in a bag all sorts of weeds ysame,
Which on the earth he strewed as he went,
And fill’d her womb with fruitfull hope of nourishment.
_Spenser._
March is the _third_ month of the year; with the ancients it was the
first: according to Mr. Leigh Hunt, from Ovid, the Romans named it from
Mars, the god of war, because he was the father of their first prince.
“As to the deity’s nature, March has certainly nothing in common with
it; for though it affects to be very rough, it is one of the best
natured months in the year, drying up the superabundant moisture of
winter with its fierce winds, and thus restoring us our paths through
the fields, and piping before the flowers like a bacchanal. He
sometimes, it must be confessed, as if in a fit of the spleen, hinders
the buds which he has dried from blowing; and it is allowable in the
less robust part of his friends out of doors, to object to the fancy he
has for coming in such a cutting manner from the east. But it may be
truly said, that the oftener you meet him firmly, the less he will
shake you; and the more smiles you will have from the fair months that
follow him.”
Perhaps the ascription of this month to Mars, by the Romans, was a
compliment to themselves; they were the sons of War, and might naturally
deduce their origin from the belligerent deity. Minerva was also
patroness of March.
Verstegan says of our Saxon ancestors, that “the moneth of March they
called _Lenct-monat_, that is, according to our new orthography,
_Length-moneth_, because the dayes did then first begin in length to
exceed the nights. And this moneth being by our ancestors so called when
they received Christianity, and consequently therewith the ancient
christian custome of fasting, they called this chiefe season of fasting
the fast of _Lenct_, because of the _Lenct-monat_, whereon the most
part of the time of this fasting alwayes fell; and hereof it cometh
that we now cal it _Lent_, it being rather the fast of Lent, thogh the
former name of _Lenct-monat_ be long since lost, and the name of March
borrowed in stead thereof.” _Lenct_, or _Lent_, however, means _Spring_;
hence March was the _Spring_-month. Dr. Sayer says the Saxons likewise
called it _Rhed-monath_, a word derived by some from one of their
deities, named Rheda, to whom sacrifices were offered in March; others
derive it from _ræd_, the Saxon word for council, March being the month
wherein wars or expeditions were usually undertaken by the Gothic
tribes. The Saxons also called it _Hlyd-monath_, from _hlyd_, which
means stormy, and in this sense March was the _Stormy_ month.
No living writer discourses so agreeably on the “Months” as Mr. Leigh
Hunt in his little volume bearing that title. He says of March,
that--“The animal creation now exhibit unequivocal signs of activity.
The farmer extends the exercise of his plough; and, if fair weather
continues, begins sowing barley and oats. Bats and reptiles break up
their winter sleep: the little smelts or sparlings run up the softened
rivers to spawn: the field-fare and woodcock return to their northern
quarters; the rooks are all in motion with building and repairing their
nests; hens sit; geese and ducks lay; pheasants crow; the ring-dove
coos; young lambs come tottering forth in mild weather; the throstle
warbles on the top of some naked tree, as if he triumphed over the last
lingering of barrenness; and, lastly, forth issues the bee with his
vernal trumpet, to tell us that there is news of sunshine and the
flowers.--In addition to the last month’s flowers, we now have the
crown-imperial, the dog’s-tooth violet, fritillaries, the hyacinth,
narcissus, (bending its face like its namesake,) pilewort, scarlet
ranunculus, great snow-drop, tulips, (which turned even the Dutch to
enthusiasts,) and violets, proverbial for their odour, which were
perhaps the favourite flowers of Shakspeare. The passage at the
beginning of ‘Twelfth Night,’ in which he compares their scent with the
passing sweetness of music is well-known, and probably suggested the
beautiful one in lord ‘Bacon’s Essays,’ about the superiority of flowers
in the open air, ‘where the scent comes and goes like the warbling of
music.’”
Now, Winter, dispossessed of storms, and weak from boisterous rage,
---------- Ling’ring on the verge of Spring,
Retires reluctant, and from time to time
Looks back, while at his keen and chilling breath
Fair Flora sickens.
~March 1.~
_St. David_, Archbishop, A. D. 544. _St. Swidbert_, or _Swibert_, A.
D. 713. _St. Albinus_, Bishop, A. D. 549. _St. Monan_, A. D. 874.