Forget April showers. How about blunks, cow-quakers, lettys and plothering?
Britain’s national obsession with the weather means we spend an average of six months of our lives talking about it. No wonder we’ve developed dozens and dozens of words to help describe it…
HAVE you talked about the weather today yet? Of course you have. And you’re not alone, because surveys suggest Britons spend about six months of our lives chatting with friends, family, and let’s be honest sometimes complete strangers, about what’s heading our way from up above.
Rain, of course, is one of the most popular topics for discussion. We get so much of it and in so many different forms that as a nation we’ve developed dozens and dozens of ways to describe it, wherever we live.
This ranges from “dringey” (light but persistent rain in Lincolnshire), and a “Fox’s wedding” (sudden rain falling from a clear sky in Devon and Dorset), through to rain in Scotland and the north of England that’s so heavy it rebounds off the ground, known as “stotting” (from the Scottish word “stoat” meaning “to bounce”).
Naturally predicting when rain is coming has also been a national pastime for many years.You might remember amateur weather watcher Bill Foggitt who became popular in the 1980s for his crystal ball-gazing based on decades of rural knowledge watching plant and animal behaviours – he kept a particular eye on flowers on the basis that imminent rain would cause them to close their petals to guard their pollen.
But there’s a much longer history to it than that. Way back in 1670, John Claridge put pen to paper to produce his book, The Shepherd Of Banbury’s Rules, in which he studied mists to help with rain predictions. So, he suggested: “If they rise in low Ground and soon vanish, then Fair Weather”, but “If they rise to the Hill-tops, then Rain in a Day or two”.
Two centuries later, Richard Inwards’ 1869 book Weather lore: a collection of proverbs, sayings, and rules concerning the weather, helpfully tells readers: “If spaniels sleep more than usual it foretells wet weather”, and that “When cats sneeze it is a sign of rain”. So keep a close eye on your pets before heading out.
Leonard Digges, who used astrology to predict the weather in his rather grand sounding A Prognostication Everlasting of Right Good Effect in 1556 even used a version of a saying familiar to us all in the 21st century: “The element red in the evening, the next day fair, but in the morning red then wind and rain.”
Dealing with rain has also long been important to us.
ALTHOUGH umbrellas were known in ancient China, Egypt and India, they are regarded in modern times as a typically British accessory – Robinson Crusoe even makes himself one on his island, which also serves a dual purpose as a sunshade.
Jonas Hanway, born in 1712, was a businessman and traveller, and regarded as the first English person to carry his own umbrella in public.
This earned him plenty of mockery from onlookers at the time who believed that a real gentleman should travel in a carriage when it was wet, or at the very least have a servant hold one for him.
And it’s not just rain we have to deal with. The Dog’s Nose was a Victorian “anti-fogmatic”, a drink to psych yourself up before venturing out into an urban fog, especially common in London. The ingredients of this classic cocktail were – readers of a fragile disposition should look away now – stout or porter, black treacle and gin, some brown sugar to taste, and then the whole thing heated, before being served with a little grated nutmeg on top. Charles Dickens mentions the drink twice in his novels, in Our Mutual Friend, and again in The Pickwick Papers, which also includes a brief recipe (“compounded of warm porter, moist sugar, gin, and nutmeg”). British weather certainly has a major effect on all our lives.
It’s had a part to play in war from 1066 to D-Day, and in particular on the results of the 15th century civil wars known as the Wars of the Roses during which rival branches of the Plantagenet family, the Yorkists and the Lancastrians, fought an often very bloody conflict. “Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?” asks the would-be King Edward IV in Shakespeare’s HenryVI Part 3 as he prepares for The Battle of Mortimer’s Cross (February 2, 1461). No dazzling, he’d just witnessed a “parhelion” or “sun dog”, three suns next to each other, the result of sunlight refracted through ice crystals in high clouds.
In real life, Edward’s soldiers were disturbed by its appearance but he managed to convince them that it was actually a positive omen from God and in fact turned it into his royal emblem after they had won.
A decade later, The Battle of Barnet (April 14, 1471) proved to be a turning point as Yorkist Edward pushed for a final victory.
By no means a small part of his success was due to a thick fog which descended on the heathland battlefield early in the morning.
This caused a section of the Lancastrian archers, mistaking a significant number of their fellow officers for the enemy and believing themselves to be flanked, to open fire on their fellow soldiers who had simply
got a bit lost.This friendly fire caused considerable confusion, at which point the fog began to clear and Edward seized his chance to throw in his reserves to win the day.
The weather continues to affect us in the 21st century.
A recent YouGov survey showed that it has a major affect on our moods, with people generally reporting feeling energised by windy days and happily nostalgic on snowy ones. The most divisive weather condition was foggy – while some people felt trapped by these kinds of days, others said that it made things intriguingly mysterious.
More specifically, according to National Trust analysis, visitor numbers to its properties peak at 24C. When it gets hotter than this, visitor numbers gradually drop off until they reach 28C when they fall significantly. There are other effects, too – and not always what you might think.
ONCE temperatures go over the 18C mark, supermarkets estimate there will be a roughly 20 per cent increase in fizzy drinks and juice sales. And while it’s hardly surprising that we eat more ice cream when it’s hot, sales actually plateau at about 25C in the south of Britain at which point people switch to frozen lollies.
There’s a lot of anecdotal discussion about the effect of the weather on turnouts for elections, but one gripping piece of research turns our expectations of what should happen upside down. Politics and meteorological researchers at the University of Reading looked at voting statistics in the Wokingham constituency where the university is located.
Their work showed that rain actually leads to a higher turnout (by about four per cent).
And while serious crimes such as physical assault, domestic violence, and rape tend to increase as the temperature rises, once it gets above 29C, levels of violence drop again, perhaps because the excessive heat dampens emotions.
All in all, it’s no wonder we talk about the weather so much.
Certainly, when it comes to rain, some things never change. Here’s Samuel Pepys’ diary entry for Tuesday March 20, 1659: “Then to Westminster, where by reason of rain and an easterly wind, the water was so high that there was boats rowed in King Street and all our yard was drowned, that one could not go to my house, so as no man has seen the like almost, most houses full of water.”
●●100 Words for Rain: And everything else you need to know about the British weather by Alex Johnson (National Trust Books, £9.99) is out now.Visit expressbookshop.com or call 020 3176 3832. Free UK P&P on orders over £25