Demons and Goblins.
“Now I remember those old woman’s words
Who in my youth would tell me winter’s tales,
And speak of sprites and ghosts that glide by night
About the place where treasure hath been hid.”
_Marlow’s “Jew of Venice.”_
“Will-a-wisp misleads night-faring clowns,
O’er hills and sinking bogs.”
“Let night-dogs tear me,
And goblins ride me in my sleep to jelly,
Ere I forsake my sphere.”
--_Thierry and Theodoret. Act 1. Sc. 1._
LE FAEU BÉLENGIER.
That singular meteor, known by the English as Jack o’Lantern or “Will
o’ the Wisp,” by the French as “Feu Follet,” and by the Bretons as
“Jan gant y tan” (John with the fingers or gloves of fire), bears
in Guernsey the appellation of _Le Faeu Bélengier_--the fire of
Bélenger. According to Mr. Métivier “Bélenger” is merely a slight
variation of the name “Volunde” or “Velint”--Wayland, or Weyland
Smith, the blacksmith of the Scandinavian gods. Bélenger was married
to a Valkyrie, daughter of the Fates, so runs the old Norse legend.
He was, for the sake of some treasures belonging to him, or under his
guardianship, carried away by a certain king as prisoner to an island,
where the tyrant cut the sinews of his feet so as to prevent his
running away, and then set him to work. Too clever, however, not to be
able to compass his revenge, Bélenger managed to kill the two sons of
the despot, and fashioned their bones into vessels for the royal table.
And then, having maltreated the princess, daughter of his quondam
master, he flew away through the air, and the name Bélenger has become
identified in popular mythology with any especially clever worker in
metals. In English popular tradition the name of Bélenger becomes
contracted into Velint, or Wayland Smith, and, according to Sir Walter
Scott, “this Wayland was condemned to wander, night after night, from
cromlech to cromlech, and belated travellers imagined that they then
beheld the fire from his forge issuing from marshes and heaths.” The
natives of Iceland, descended from our own paternal ancestors of the
tenth century, say still of a clever craftsman that he is a “Bélengier”
in iron.
In Guernsey they say it is a spirit in pain, condemned to wander,
and which seeks to deliver itself from torment by suicide.[113] Its
presence is also supposed to indicate in very many cases the existence
of hidden treasures, and many a countryman is known to have made a
fruitless journey over bog and morass in the hope of locating the
flickering flame. It is also firmly believed by all the country people
that if a knife is fixed by the handle to a tree, or stuck in the earth
with the point upwards, the spirit or demon that guides the flame will
attack and fight with it, and that proofs of the encounter will be
found next morning in the drops of blood found on the blade.[114]
[113] See Métivier’s Dictionary,--Art: Bélengier.
[114] From Rachel Du Port, and others.
Yorkshire Folk-Lore--_Notes and Queries_, 4th Series, I; 193. “If
ever you are pursued by a Will-o’-the-Wisp, the best thing to do is
to put a steel knife into the ground, with the handle upwards. The
Will-o’-the-Wisp will run round this until the knife is burnt up, and
you will thus have the means of escaping.”
EDITOR’S NOTES.
“Tout le monde connaît ces exhalaisons de gaz inflammable qui brillent
quelquefois dans les endroits marécageux et qui effraient tant les
enfants et les vieilles. Ces feux sont appelés dans nos campagnes La
Fourlore, le feu follet, ou le feu errant. Ce sont des âmes damnées;
et, suivant quelques personnes, ces âmes sont celles de prêtres
criminels ou libertins. Elles cherchent à éblouir les voyageurs, à
les entrainer dans les précipices, et à les jeter dans l’eau. Quand
le feu follet, esprit d’ailleurs fort jovial, est venu à bout de son
entreprise il quitte sa victime avec de grands éclats de rire, et il
disparait.” _Recherches sur la Normandie_, par Du Bois, 1845, p. 310.
See also, Fouquet _Légendes du Morbihan_, p. 140. _Le Meu_--_Revue
Celt_, p. 230. A. Bosquet, pp. 135-143.
HIDDEN TREASURES.
As we have already stated “Le Faeu Bélengier” is supposed to indicate
the existence of hidden treasure, and it is well known that when
treasures have been hidden for any considerable time the evil spirit
acquires a property in them, and does all in his power to prevent their
falling into the possession of mortals. Nevertheless the meteor-like
form which the Bélengier assumes, frequently betrays their place of
concealment as it plays about the spot, and if a person have sufficient
courage and perseverance he may become the possessor. The wiles,
however, of the demon, and his efforts to retain his own, frequently
prove successful, as the following narratives will testify. It appears,
however, that the guardian spirit has no power to remove the treasure,
unless the adventure have first been attempted by a mortal.
A country-woman had often observed flames of fire issuing from and
hovering round the earth within the threshold of her house, and,
knowing well what they indicated, one day, when all the other
inmates of the dwelling were in the fields busied in getting in the
harvest, she determined on searching for the treasure. She procured a
pick-axe, closed and barred all the doors to secure herself against
interruptions, and proceeded to work. She had not dug long, before a
violent thunderstorm arose. Though alarmed, she continued her task,
but the rain, which now began to fall in torrents, drove the field
labourers to seek shelter in the house. By this time the woman had
struck on a brazen pan, which, she had no doubt, covered the treasure,
and was in no hurry to open to the men who were clamouring at the door
for admission. She was at last obliged to yield to their entreaties,
and, turning her back on the hole she had dug, unbarred the door. Her
dismay was great, when, on looking back on her work, she saw the pan
turned up, and the whole treasure abstracted. The demon had seized this
opportunity to take possession of his own.
A man had reason to believe, from the flames which he had seen hovering
about a certain spot, that a treasure was hidden there. Accordingly,
one night, he took his spade and lantern and dug till he came to a
large jar, which contained what appeared to him to be shells.[115]
Suspecting that this might be a stratagem of the evil spirit to deter
him from obtaining possession of the treasure, he carefully gathered
up the whole, and took it home with him. On examining the parcel the
next morning, he found he had judged rightly, for the apparent shells
of the preceding night had now resumed their original form of gold and
silver coin.
Another man was less fortunate, for, finding nothing but what he
conceived to be shells, he hesitated about removing them, and was
effectually deterred by the appearance of an immense animal, resembling
a black conger-eel with fiery eyes, coiled up in the hole which he had
dug.[116]
[115] It is perhaps to the fact that limpet shells are found in the
cromlechs, which are always supposed to be the repository of hidden
treasure, that the idea that buried gold, when discovered by mortals,
is transformed by its guardian spirit into worthless shells, is
entertained by the peasantry.
[116] From Rachel Du Port.
“4 Oct. 1586. Procédures contre Edmond Billot, Richard Le Petevin,
Nicollas Le Petevin, et Jean Moullin, pour avoir été de nuit fouyr à
Ste. Anne, à St. George, et à St. Germain pour chercher des trésors
qu’un nommé Baston, des parties de Normandie, leur avoit dit y être
déposés,--savoir: trois à St. George, un dans la muraille, un autre
enterré dans la chapelle, et un troisième déhors, un à Ste. Anne, et un
à St. Germain au milieu du champ.”--_Proceedings of the Royal Court._
EDITOR’S NOTE.--See _Traditions et Superstitions de La Haute Bretagne_.
Tome I., p. 39 etc. “On m’a conté à Dinan que lorsque les chercheurs de
trésors eurent creusé à la base du Monolithe, il sortit de la terre des
flammes qui les forcèrent à interrompre leur travail. On assure qu’à
différentes époques on a fait des fouilles sous un meulier de la forêt
de Brotonne, dit ‘La Pierre aux Houneux’ pour y découvrir un trésor;
mais à chaque fois d’effrayantes apparitions les firent discontinuer.…
Des ouvriers qui avaient tenté d’enlever le trésor de Néaufle se virent
entourés de flammes.” A. Bosquet, p. 159-186.
“THE VAROU.”
The “Varou,” now almost entirely forgotten, seems to have belonged
to the family of nocturnal goblins. He is allied to the “Loup-Garou”
of the French, and the “Were-Wolf” of the English, if, indeed, he is
not absolutely identical with them. He is believed to be endowed with
a marvellous appetite, and it is still proverbially said of a great
eater “Il mange comme un varou.”[117]
“Aller en varouverie” was an expression used in former times in
speaking of those persons who met together in unfrequented places for
the purposes of debauchery or other illicit practices. Among the Acts
of the Consistory of the parish of St. Martin’s, in the time when the
island was still under the Presbyterian discipline, is to be found a
censure on certain individuals who had been heard to say one night that
the time was propitious “pour aller en varouverie sous l’épine.”
_Varou_ was originally from the Breton _Varw_--“the dead”--and was
identified with the “Heroes” or beatified warriors, who were, by Homer
and Hesiod, supposed to be in attendance on Saturn. Guernsey, in the
days of Demetrius, was known by the name of the Isle of Heroes, or of
Demons, and Saturn was said to be confined there in a “golden rock,”
bound by “golden chains.”
There is the “Creux des Varous,” which extends, according to tradition,
from Houmet to L’Erée, and is a subterranean cavern formed of rock
sprinkled with an abundance of yellow mica, which sparkles like gold;
a plot of ground near the cromlech at L’Erée, known as “Le Creux des
Fées,” still bears the name of “Le Camp du Varou;” and an estate in the
parish of St. Saviour’s is called “Le Mont-Varou.” Old people remember
that it used to be said in their youth that “Le Char des Varous” was
to be heard rolling over the cliffs and rocks on silver-tyred wheels,
between Houmet and the Castle of Albecq, before the death of any of the
great ones of the earth; and how this supernatural warning was sure to
be followed almost immediately by violent storms and tempests.[118]
[117] “La veille de la fête de Noël, à nuit close, dans un lieu
préscrit par le consentement de la communauté en Prusse, en Livonie,
et en Lithuanie, l’affluence des hommes changés en loups est telle que
les ravages perpétrés cette nuit-là contre les bergers et les troupeaux
sont beaucoup plus graves que ceux des véritables loups. S’insinuant
dans les caves, ils y grenouillent et vous sablent plusieurs tonneaux
de bière ou d’hydromel. Ils s’amusent alors à entasser les futailles
vides au beau milieu du cellier. Le bon prélat ajoute, que de très
grands seigneurs ne dédaignent pas de s’agriger à cette confrèrie
maudite. C’est un des anciens adeptes qui initie l’aspirant _varou_ ou
_garou_ dans une ample tasse de cervoise.” _Mœurs des Peuples du Nord_,
par Olaus Magnus, Vol. VI., p. 46.
[118] Mostly from Mr. George Métivier.
HERODIAS.
The 10th of January, in Roman days, was dedicated to the _Fera Dea_, or
cruel goddess, of which _Hero Dias_ is a literal Celtic interpretation
here. She is the queen of the witches, and although Satan himself is
the commander-in-chief of the witches, he has a mate who participates
in his authority, and leads the dance when his votaries meet to
celebrate their midnight orgies at Catioroc or Rocquaine. This is no
less a personage than the dissolute and revengeful woman by whose evil
counsel the holy precursor of our Saviour was put to death by Herod. To
her, more particularly, is attributed the rising of sudden storms, and
especially of those which take the form of a whirlwind. It sometimes
happens that during the warm and sultry days of harvest a gust of
wind will suddenly arise, and, whirling round the field, catch up and
disperse the ears of corn which the reaper has laid in due order for
the binder of the sheaves. The countryman doubts not but that this is
caused by Herodias shaking her petticoats in dancing--“_Ch’est la fille
d’Hérode qui châque ses côtillons_,”--and he loses no time in hurling
his reaping hook in the direction she appears to be moving. It is said
that this has generally the effect of stopping the progress of the
whirlwind.
These sudden gusts are locally known by the name of “_héroguiâzes_,”
and, although there is so easy a means of dispersing them as that
indicated above, the man who would venture to throw his sickle or knife
at them must be endowed with no small degree of courage.[119]
[119] From Mr. George Métivier.
Father Martin, the oracle of Gaulish divinity, has lavished floods
of ink on Herodias. According to him she is the genius of the
whirlwind--the “mid-day,” as well as a mid-night, demon. Here she
continues to “ride on the whirlwind,” and “direct the storm.” Instead
of driving her away with holy water, as our Catholic neighbours do,
_we_ fling a sickle at “La Vieille” with pious indignation, whenever
the eddying straws announce her arrival in the harvest-field.
Near “Le Ras de Fontenay,” so infamous for its shipwrecks, the little
island of Sain, off Finistère, was dedicated to He’ro Dias. There she
presided over the oracle of “Sena,” the Hag. Her priestesses were
nine shrivelled hags, and their island derived its appellation from
the hag, their mistress. None but mariners, suitors for a bagful of
favourable wind, were admissible to the presence of these ladies, who
spent their time “sur le rocher désert, l’effroi de la nature,” in a
very edifying manner--brewing storms, manufacturing hail, lightning,
thunder, and so forth, and changing themselves into a variety of brutal
forms--(Pomponius Mela).
That there is a two-headed serpent which caresses Dame Hérodias on a
bas-relief of the temple of Mont-Morillon in Poitou, may be remembered
_en passant_.
EDITOR’S NOTES.
According to the old Latin “Romaunt de Renard,” Herodias loved John
the Baptist. The jealous King caused him to be beheaded. His head, by
her order, was carried to her, and she wished to kiss it, but the head
turned away, and blew with so much violence that Herodias was blown
into the air. Since then, St. John, faithful to his antipathy, has made
her travel for ever in the deserts of the sky, and become the genius of
the storm.
Some confound her with “Habunde,” who may have been a white lady, or
one of those “genii” whom the Celts call “dusi.” _Chronique de Philippe
Mouskés_, Tome II. Introduction p. 139.
Some also think that Herodias will, if anyone dances at harvest time,
bring shipwreck and disasters at sea.--_From Mr. Isaac Le Patourel._
“LE BARBOUE.”[120]
This was a demon used by old Guernsey nurses to frighten their infant
charges. “_Le Barboue t’attrappera_” was quite threat enough to make
the naughtiest child repent of his misdeeds. According to Mr. Métivier
(See Dictionary, p. 51. _Barboue_), this name “Barboue” is a corruption
of _bared meleu_, the spectre which personifies the plague among the
Cymri. According to the legends, “Barbaou Hervé” was the wolf who
accompanied St. Hervé, a sainted hermit of the country of Léon, 560. He
was evidently related to the French “Loup-Garou.”
[120] May not this be a corruption of _Barbe Bleue_--the Blue Beard who
has frightened so many children both in France and England?
SPECTRAL APPEARANCES.
Many places have the reputation of being haunted by phantoms which make
their appearance at the dead of night, not always in a human form,
as the spirits of the departed are wont to do when they revisit “the
glimpses of the moon,” but in the more fearful shapes of beasts and
nondescript monsters. “La Bête de la Tour,” “Le Cheval de St. George,”
which has already been spoken of in connection with the well, and “Le
Chien Bôdu,” are among these.
The “devises,” or boundary stones, which served in olden times to mark
the limits of some of the principal “fiefs” or manors, but which have
now disappeared, leaving only a name to the locality, appear to have
been the particular resort of these spectres; and it is not improbable
that the superstition may have arisen from the custom, of which traces
are to be found in many nations, of sacrificing a victim and burying it
where the stone of demarcation was to be set up. It was not, however,
these places only which became the haunt of spectres; other spots came
in also for their share of these nocturnal and frightful visitors. A
lonely dwelling, especially if uninhabited, a dark lane far from any
friendly cottage, cromlechs, or spots where these mysterious erections
once stood--all these either had, or were likely to acquire, an evil
reputation in this respect, and more especially if tradition pointed to
any deed of horror, such as murder or suicide, connected with the place
or its neighbourhood.
The headless dog which haunts the Ville-au-Roi, and which will be
spoken of in the legend attached to that ancient domain, is an instance
of these spectres. The best known of them is “Tchi-cô,” or the “Bête
de la Tour,”--but there are also “La Bête de la Devise de Sausmarez à
Saint Martin,” which is a black dog supposed to haunt the avenue by
Sausmarez Manor.[121]
[121] EDITOR’S NOTE.--Then there is the “Rue de la Bête” at St.
Andrew’s, on the borders of the Fief Rohais. Near this lane there was
formerly a prison, so that it is probably full of associations of
crime and malefactors. There is also a “Rue de la Bête” near L’Erée,
between “Claire Mare” and the Rouvets, where, to this day, people will
not go alone after dark, and they still tell the story (so wrote Miss
Le Pelley, who lived in that neighbourhood), of a man, a M. Vaucourt,
who, driving down that lane in the dark, the “Bête” got up into the
cart, which so scared the unfortunate man that he died the next day.
There was also a black dog which haunted the Forest Road, clanking its
chains. The father of one old woman who told the story, saw and was
followed by this beast one night when walking home from St. Martin’s to
his house near the Forest Church. He was so frightened that he took to
his bed and died of the shock very shortly afterwards. There is also
“La Bête de la Rue Mase,” on the western limits of the Town parish, the
“Coin de la Biche,” at St. Martin’s, between Saints’ and La Villette,
and in the cross lane running from the “Carrefour David” to the
“Profonds Camps,” past the house now called “St. Hilda,” a small white
hare was supposed to be seen on stormy nights, accompanied by “Le Faeu
Bélengier.”
“TCHI-CO, LA BÊTE DE LA TOUR.”
There is no doubt that in early times the town of St. Peter Port was
encircled by walls, and fortified--indeed there is an order of Edward
III. in 1350, authorising the levy of a duty on merchandise for this
purpose. Certain spots, called “les barrières,” mark where the gates
were situated, and, although all remains of the walls have long since
disappeared, it is not difficult to trace the course they must have
taken. At the northern extremity of the original town, the name of “La
Tour Gand” indicates a fortress of some sort. The southern extremity
was protected by a work called “La Tour Beauregard,” of sufficient
importance to be named, together with Castle Cornet, in the warrants or
commissions issued by the monarch to those who were intrusted with the
defence of the island.
This fortress stood near the top of Cornet Street, on the brow of
the hill which overlooks the Bordage and Fountain Street, where now
stands St. Barnabas’ Church. Tradition points to a spot at the foot of
the hill, as the place where the execution of heretics and witches,
by burning, used to take place, and connects with these sad events
a spectral appearance which, even within the present century, was
believed to haunt the purlieus of the old tower.
During the long nights of winter, and especially about Christmastide,
the inhabitants of Tower-hill, the Bordage, Fountain Street, and Cornet
Street used to be roused from their midnight slumbers by hearing
unearthly howlings and the clanking of heavy chains, dragged over the
rough pavement.
Those who could summon up courage enough to rise from their beds and
peep out of window, declared that they saw the form of a huge uncouth
animal with large flaming saucer eyes, and somewhat like a bear, or
huge calf. This spectre was known as “Tchî-co, La Bête de la Tour.”
EDITOR’S NOTES.
See Pluquet in _Contes Populaires de Bayeux_, p. 16, for an account of
a phantom in the shape of a great dog that wanders about the streets of
Bayeux in the winter nights gnawing bones and dragging chains, called
“Le Rongeur d’Os.”
See also Sir Walter Scott’s note in _Peveril of the Peak_, Vol. II.,
Chap. I., on the spectral hound or “Mauthe Doog”--a large black
spaniel, which used to haunt Peel Castle in the Isle of Man.
There is also in Laisnel de la Salle’s book _Croyances et Légendes du
Centre de la France_, Tome I. p. 181, a long story of “Le Loup Bron,”
which in many respects resembles that of our “Bête de la Tour.”
In Sark “they have another superstitious belief, that of the _Tchico_,
or old dog, the dog of the dead, the black or white beast. Several
affirm having seen it, and met it walking about the roads. This dog
affects certain localities, and makes its regular rounds, but often it
is invisible.” From _Descriptive Sketch of the Island of Sark_, by the
Rev. J. L. V. Cachemaille, published in Clarke’s _Guernsey Magazine_,
Vol. III., October. 1875.
In Brand’s _Antiquities_, Vol. III., p. 330, he identifies the English
“Barguest,” or “Great Dog Fiend,” with the Norman “Rongeur d’Os,” and
the “Boggart” of Lancashire, great dog-spirits, which prowl about in
the night-time, dragging heavy chains behind them.
“LE CHIEN BÔDU.”
This black dog was said to infest the Clos du Valle, and was probably a
resident of the Ville Bôdu, which was at one time the slaughter-house
of the Benedictine monks of St. Michel du Valle. To see him was taken
as a sure sign of approaching death. According to Mr. Métivier, he
derived his name from “the German Bohdu, and Gaulish Bodu, which mean
the _Abyss_, and the mythological dog of Hades is our ‘Chien Bôdu.’”
EDITOR’S NOTE.--In _Croyances et Légendes du Centre de la France_
Laisnel de la Salle has a chapter (Tome I. pp. 168-175), on “La Chasse
a _Bôdet_,” which he describes as “une chasse nocturne qui traverse les
airs avec des hurlements, des mieulements et des abois epouvantables,
auxquels se mêlent des cris de menace et des accents d’angoisse,” and
he identifies (p. 172), “Bôdet” with the German _Woden_, who is the
same as the Scandinavian Odin, Gwyon of the Gauls, the Egyptian Thot,
Hermes of the Greeks, and Mercury of the Latins, who filled, in the
Teutonic Mythology, the rôle of “Conductor of Souls.”
LEGEND OF THE VILLE AU ROI.
Although this story is known to everyone, and is to be found in all the
local histories and guide books, no collection of Guernsey folk-lore
can be considered perfect without it. It is just one of those stories
that are calculated to make a profound impression on the popular mind,
as showing the special interposition of Providence in preserving a poor
and innocent man from the effects of a false accusation, and in causing
the nefarious designs of a rich and unprincipled oppressor to fall back
with just retribution on his own head.
[Illustration: “Old Manor, Ville au Roi.”]
Whether the story be founded on an occurrence which did actually take
place in this island, whether it originated elsewhere, or whether
it be a pure invention, it is now impossible to determine.[122] The
name of the principal personage in the tale--Gaultier de la Salle--is
to be found at the head of the lists of Bailiffs of Guernsey, with
the date 1284, but no written evidence has yet been adduced to prove
that anyone of the name ever held that office. There is, however,
proof of a certain kind that a person bearing this name did exist at
some period of the fourteenth century, for, in a manuscript list of
Bailiffs, which appears to have been compiled about the year 1650,
the writer, who seems careful not to place any on record for whom he
cannot produce documentary evidence, appends this note to the name of
John Le Marchant, Bailiff from 1359 to 1383:--“J’en ay lettre de 1370
concernant la veuve Gaultier de la Salle.”
That no document is known to exist in which this name appears is no
proof that Gaultier de la Salle did not hold the office. Previously
to the reign of Edward I. it appears to have been the custom for the
Warder or Governor of the island to appoint an officer with the title
of Bailiff, who combined the functions of Lieutenant-Governor, chief
magistrate, and Receiver of the Crown Revenues, and who was generally
changed annually. The names of many of these dignitaries have been
preserved, but there are still several blanks to be filled up, and it
is not impossible that the name of Gaultier de la Salle may some day or
other be found as holding this important charge, although probably at a
later date than that usually assigned to him--1284.
The estate of the Ville-au-Roi is said to have borne originally the
name of “La Petite Ville.”[123] It has now dwindled down to a few
fields, but was doubtless at one period of far greater extent and
importance than at the present time. The house, which may probably
be assigned to the fifteenth century, is now much diminished in size
from what it was, even a few years since, but it still presents an
interesting specimen of the architecture of former days. It consisted,
when perfect, of a building, forming two sides of a square, with
a tower in the angle, where may yet be seen the holes for arrows.
It contained a well-wrought newel staircase in stone, leading to a
large room, which appears to have been the principal apartment in the
house, if we may judge from the careful workmanship bestowed on the
handsomely carved granite chimney piece, the traces of stone mullions
in the windows, and the ornamental open timber roof, now hidden by a
low ceiling. A wall of unusual thickness divides this portion of the
building into two parts; and a few steps from the head of the staircase
of which we have spoken, lead to the remains of another newel resting
on this wall, which evidently formed part of a turret rising above the
ridge of the roof, and which could have served no purpose but that of
ornament, or perhaps a lookout over the neighbouring country. There
are some detached farm buildings, and traces of a wall surrounding the
homestead, intended probably to form an inclosure into which the cattle
might be driven at night. The remains of an arched gateway at the end
of the avenue, leading from the main road, and connecting the western
gable of the dwelling house with an out-building, are still to be
discerned. This was exactly opposite the principal door of the mansion,
which is of good proportions, with a well-executed circular headway in
granite, over which is a square recess in the masonry which doubtless
once contained the armorial device of the original proprietor. There
is reason to believe this was a member of the De Beauvoir family,
once very numerous and influential in the island but now extinct,
for it was well known that the family was formerly in possession of
this estate, and the existence of their arms--a chevron between three
cinq-foils--carved in granite on the mantelpiece of the principal
room, is almost sufficient proof of one of the name having been the
original builder of the house.[124] The estate afterwards passed into
the possession of the De la Marche family--also extinct. From them it
descended to a family of the name of Le Poidevin. These last falling
into pecuniary difficulties, the property by the legal process called
“saisie” came into the hands of the present (1859) proprietor, Thomas
Le Retilley, Esq., Jurat of the Royal Court.
Whilst the recently-abolished manorial Court of the Priory of St.
Michel du Valle still existed, there was a curious servitude attached
to this estate. When this Court made its periodical procession through
the island to inspect the King’s highway and see that it was kept in
due repair, the proprietor of the Ville-au-Roi was expected to furnish
a cup of milk to everyone legally entitled to a place in the cortège,
and the procession made a halt at the gate to demand the accustomed
refreshment, which was willingly afforded, although immemorial usage
alone could be pleaded for the exaction.
It is now time to come to the legend itself. In the earliest records
which the human race possesses--the Holy Scriptures--we read that
disputes arose about wells and the right of drawing water from them.
Where water is scarce, as it is in some parts of the East, this can
readily be understood, but why should any disagreement occur in
places where this indispensable element abounds? The answer is simply
this. The well is for the most part the property of one person, and
situated on his ground, and those who claim a right to the use of it,
must necessarily pass over their neighbour’s land to get at it. It is
clear that this right may be exercised in such a manner as to become
vexatious and troublesome.
Gaultier de la Salle had a poor neighbour of the name of Massy, who
was the proprietor of a small field containing little more than a
vergée of land at the back of the Bailiff’s house, but with this land
he possessed also the right,--no doubt by virtue of some ancient
and binding contract--of drawing water from a well on De la Salle’s
property. Often had the Bailiff offered to buy off this right,--to give
a fair and even liberal price for the piece of ground to which the
privilege was attached. Massy was obstinate. His answer to every offer
was that of Naboth to Ahab--“The Lord forbid it me that I should give
the inheritance of my fathers to thee.”
Annoyed at Massy’s pertinacious refusal to accede to his wishes,
Gaultier de la Salle formed the horrible design of taking away his
life, but how was this to be done without causing suspicion? Open
violence, even in those days, was not to be thought of. Secret
assassination might be discovered. At last the acute mind of the
unworthy Bailiff hit on an expedient which appeared to him perfectly
safe. It was to make the forms of the law subservient to his wicked
designs, and, under the guise of a judicial proceeding, to cause the
ruin and death of the unfortunate Massy. Theft was then, and for too
many centuries after, punished with death. If he could succeed in
fixing an accusation of this kind on the innocent Massy, he flattered
himself that there would be no difficulty in obtaining a conviction,
and then would follow the utmost penalty of the law, and the consequent
forfeiture of the felon’s lands and goods to the King, from whom he
hoped to get a grant or sale of the field. To carry out his nefarious
intention, he hid two of his own silver cups in a cornstack, and
adroitly contrived to cause a suspicion of having stolen them to rest
on his too-obstinate neighbour. Circumstantial evidence, skilfully
combined, was not wanting on the day of trial, and, notwithstanding his
vehement protestations of innocence, poor Massy was found guilty and
condemned to death. The day fixed for the execution arrived, and the
Bailiff proceeded to the Court House with the intention of witnessing
the death of the unfortunate victim of his own false accusation.
But “the wicked man diggeth a pit and falleth into the midst of it
himself.” Before leaving home, he gave orders to some of his workmen
to take down a certain stack of corn, and house it in the barn. He had
barely taken his seat in Court, where the magistrates had assembled for
the purpose, as was then the custom, of attending the culprit to the
place of execution, and seeing their sentence duly carried out, when a
messenger, almost breathless, rushed in and exclaimed--
“The cups are found.”
[Illustration: “Houses in Church Square, 1825.”]
“Fool!” cried the Bailiff. “Did I not tell thee not to touch _that_
rick. I knew----.” Here he stopped short in confusion, perceiving that
he had already said enough to raise the suspicions of those who had
heard him.
The Jurats immediately gave orders to stay the execution. The matter
was submitted to a searching investigation, and resulted in a full
exposure of the Bailiff’s nefarious plot. Thereupon Gaultier de la
Salle was sentenced to suffer the same punishment that he had intended
for the innocent Massy, and his estate was declared to be confiscated
to the King, since which time it has borne the appellation of “La
Ville-au-Roi.” It is said that he was hanged at a spot in the parish
of St. Andrew’s, where, until the last century, executions[125]
usually took place, and that, on his way to the gibbet, he stopped and
received the Holy Sacrament at the foot of a cross, which, though long
destroyed, has given its name to the locality “La Croix au Baillif.”
An old lane bounding the land of the Ville-au-Roi on the north, and
which was closed in the early part of last century, when the present
high road was cut, bore the singular name of “La Rue de l’Ombre
de la Mort.” It had naturally an evil reputation as the resort of
phantoms and hobgoblins, and even in the present day it is with fear
and trembling that the belated peasant in returning from town passes
the avenue of aged elms that leads up to the ruined mansion of the
iniquitous judge.
Many will tell you how, at the witching hour of night, they have seen
a huge, headless black dog rush out and brush past them, and how those
who have been bold enough to strike at the phantom might as well have
beaten the air, for their cudgel met with no resistance from anything
corporeal. No one doubts that it is the unquiet spirit of Gaultier de
la Salle, doomed to wander till the great day of judgment around the
field for the sake of which he was led into such deadly sin, happy
even if so dreadful a penance could expiate his guilt.
[122] See note on page 245.
[123] EDITOR’S NOTE.--To this day one of the fields on the adjoining
estate of “Le Mont Durant,” belonging to Colonel de Guérin, bears the
name of “Petite Ville.”
[124] EDITOR’S NOTES.--There is documentary evidence proving that in
the early part of the fifteenth century the “Ville au Roi” estate
belonged to John Thiault, Jurat of the Royal Court. He died, leaving
three daughters, of whom the eldest married Perrin Careye, and thus
brought these lands into the Carey family, where they remained until
the year 1570, when Collette Careye, great, great grand-daughter of
Perrin Careye, married Guillaume De Beauvoir, and received the Ville au
Roi estate as her share of her father’s property. The property did not
remain long in the possession of the De Beauvoir family, as we find,
September 24, 1636, “Monsieur Jean de la Marche, ministre,” its owner,
“à cause d’Ester De Beauvoir, sa femme, fille de Collette Careye.”
The Reverend John de la Marche, Rector of St. Andrew’s and subsequently
of the Town parish, married Esther, daughter of William de Beauvoir and
Collette Careye, January 24th, 1616.
[125] The field at St. Andrew’s where the executions took place was
called “Les Galères,” and near it is a lane leading to a water-mill,
called “Moulin de L’Échelle,” because the miller had, for his tenure,
to provide the ladder for the executions.
There is a small piece of land, just off the road which passes the
Monnaie, and leads from the Bailiff’s Cross Road to the Ecluse Corbin,
which is known as “Le Friquet du Gibet.”
EDITOR’S NOTE.
In the Record Office exists (Assize Roll No. 1165, 17 Edward II.,
1323), a petition of “Cecilia, who was wife of Walter de la Sale,” for
restitution of lands and rentes bought in their name and in that of
their children, in the parishes of St. Peter Port and St. Andrew’s;
“and that these tenements,--on account of the death of the said Walter,
who was judicially executed last criminal assizes, now three years
past, before Peter Le Marchant, then Bailiff of the Island,--had been
seized by the King.… Upon the inquisition of 12 men of the parish of
St. Peter Port, and 12 men of the parish of St. Andrew’s, who depose
upon their oath, that the aforesaid Walter was condemned before Peter
Le Marchant, Bailiff of the aforesaid Island, for the murder of Ranulph
Vautier[126], three years ago. An inquisition was made, and on account
of the said murder, the said lands were seized into the King’s hands,
and for this cause, and no other, are still detained.… A day given to
the said Cecilia for the hearing of her case at Jersey, on which day
the aforesaid Cecilia came, and it is determined that the King removes
his hand (_i.e._, restores the land), and that from henceforth she has
possession.”
The British Museum contains a document, (Add: Ch: 19809) which gives
further particulars of “la peticion Cecile qui fut fame Gaultier de la
Salle,” she claiming the lands, etc., as having been bought with her
money “et disante que l’avant dit son mari vint en lylle desus dicte
sans nul bien fors son corps.” From this document it appears that
Cecilia and her husband built the house, presumably that now known
as “La Ville-au-Roi,” for she claims “une meson séante en la ville
de Saint Pierre Port, de laquelle la place fut fiefeye de Jourdan et
de Johan des Maons … et que du mariage de la dicte Cecile ovecques
autres biens pourchaciez par yceluy mariage, fistent la dicte meson.” …
Signed at St. Peter Port, 10th of October, 1323, before Geoffrey de la
[Hou]gue Guillaume Karupel, Richart Toullay, Guion Nicolle, Renouf de
Vic, Henri de la [Mule][127], Guillaume le Genne, Johan Fale, Ranulph
leMoigne, de Saint Pierre Port, and Radulph de Beaucamp, Jurats of the
King’s Court.
The Assize Roll of 32 Edward I (1304), mentions the murder of Brother
John del Espin, of the Priory of Lyhou, by Ranulph Vautier and
Guillaume Lenginour, who, after having taken refuge in the Church
of St. Sampson, and abjured the Islands, were pardoned by the King.
Guillaume L’Enginour seems to have been subsequently Gaultier de la
Salle’s accomplice in the murder of Ranulph Gautier, for the “Lettres
Closes” of 1321, mention the restoration of lands to “Guillaume
L’Enginour demeurant accusé de la mort de Ranulphe Gautier, tué dit on
criminellement, et du vol d’un anneau d’argent au même Ranulphe, et
d’un florin d’or à John de Souslemont, Chapelain”; he being willing to
stand his trial when called upon.
Among the “Ancient Petitions” No. 4345 contains a request from John
du Vivier, Thomas d’Estefeld, and Philip de Vincheles of Guernsey and
Jersey, “for protection from the friends of Gaultier de la Salle, his
wife, his son, and his relations, who threaten them because he was
hanged for the murder of Renouf Gautier, murdered in the Castle of
Guernsey, by his acquaintances and others who abjured (the Islands),
for this deed, such as Master William le Enginour, John Justice, and
Christian Hert”.…
The Calendars of Patent Rolls for the years 1313-14, contain mentions
of “Protections” for “Walter de la Salle, clerk” to “the islands
of Gerneseye and Jereseye,” and in the Assize Roll of 1319, he is
described as “Minister” of Otho de Grandison, then Governor of the
Islands.
A Ranulph Gautier was one time bailiff to Otho de Grandison, so the
feud between the two may have been of long standing. Gaultier de la
Salle was probably a member of one of the many Anglo-Norman families
then connected with the Channel Islands. His wife Cecilia was evidently
a Guernseywoman, and part of their land in St. Andrew’s parish was
inherited from Havise, his wife’s mother. There is reason to believe
that he was the son of a Robert de la Salle, and Agnes his wife, who
were landowners in England in the early part of the 14th Century; his
son, Nicholas, was King’s Receiver to Edward III., in 1372-3.
It is not possible to absolutely locate the lands held by Gaultier de
la Salle, but in a British Museum MS. (Clarence Hopper) is quoted a
document, then in the Chapter House, Westminster, shewing that part
of the “Eschaet” of “Galter de Sale” was the “Clos au Botiller,”
which particular “Clos” has been identified as part of the territory
now known as Le Vauquiédor, and in the petition of Cecilia, widow of
Gaultier, she mentions lands bought from “Guillaume et Richard le
Hubie.” Both the Hubits Lanes and the Vauquiédor estate adjoin that of
the Ville-au-Roi, the traditionary seat of Gaultier de la Salle.
_From documents kindly lent me by Lord de Saumarez, Colonel J. H. C.
Carey and Colonel de Guérin._
[126] He seems to have been called “Vautier” or “Gautier”
indiscriminately.
[127] Letters illegible, but have been supplied from the “Second Report
of Commissioners (Guernsey)”, p. 303, viz., Names of Officials 5 Ed.
III.
THE SPECTRE OF LES GRENTMAISONS.
At no great distance from the thriving village of St. Sampson’s, which,
thanks to its commodious harbour, the neighbouring granite quarries,
and an extensive trade in stone carried on there, bids fair to become a
town, stands what was formerly the mansion of a considerable branch of
the Le Marchant family,[128] one of the most ancient and influential in
the Channel Archipelago. It is known as “Les Grentmaisons,” the name of
a family that has been extinct for some centuries, but which possessed
lands in this part of the island. The house is situated on the high
road leading from St. Sampson’s to the town of St. Peter Port, and,
although surrounded at the present time on all sides, was, at the
beginning of the present century, far removed from any dwelling--none
indeed being then in sight but those of the town, distant at least two
miles.
At that time the proprietor, who possessed a very handsome dwelling in
St. Peter Port, only inhabited the house of the Grentmaisons during the
summer months; and in the winter it was closed and left under the care
of a servant, who lived in one of the dependencies. How it had come
to acquire the evil reputation of being haunted, or how long it was
supposed to have been so, no one could tell, but that it was the resort
of troubled spirits no one could doubt. Fearful noises were heard, and
lights that could not be accounted for were seen in its deserted rooms
during the long winter nights; and belated wayfarers were affrighted
by the apparition of a horrible beast, with large glaring eyes, and
long shaggy hair trailing down to the ground, which took its nightly
rambles round the ancient walls, and seemed to guard the house from
intrusion.[129]
[128] EDITOR’S NOTE.--It was bought by the Reverend Thomas Le Marchant,
Rector of St. Sampson’s parish, August the sixth, 1655.
[129] From Mr. Denys Corbet.
“LA BÊTE DE LA PENDUE.”
The western coast of Guernsey, abounding in sunken reefs stretching
far out to sea, and exposed to the full force of the Atlantic waves,
was, before the establishment of a lighthouse on the Hanois rocks, most
dangerous to shipping coming up Channel, and many a gallant vessel,
with all its crew, has struck on some hidden danger and gone down in
deep water, leaving no traces but what the waves might throw up some
days afterwards on the shore, in the form of detached portions of the
wreck and cargo, or the dead bodies of the hapless mariners.
The inhabitants of this inhospitable coast are a rugged race of hardy
fishermen, for the most part experienced pilots, who know every rock
for miles round, not one of which is without its distinguishing name.
As might be expected, they are close observers of the weather, and of
every sign that may indicate a coming storm. Those in the neighbourhood
of L’Érée and Rocquaine declare that they are warned of an approaching
tempest by a peculiar bright light which appears some time before in
the south-west, and also by a loud roaring, like that of a large animal
in great pain, which appears to proceed from a rock known by the name
of “La Pendue.” They do not attempt to account for this noise, but
speak of it as “La Bête de la Pendue.”[130]
[130] From Mrs. Savidan and Mrs. Sarre.
According to Mr. Métivier there is also, in the neighbourhood of Lihou,
a rock called “Sanbule,” a very dangerous place for ships, and sailors
say that underneath this rock can be plainly heard the bellowing of a
bull. It is conjectured that the “bule” in the name of this cliff is
from the English “bull” or the Swedish “bulla,” and _san_, from the
French _saint_, and that it points to some now-forgotten legend about a
holy bull.--See Clarke’s _Guernsey Magazine_, September, 1880.
THE DOLE OF LOAVES AT LE LAURIER.
In the parish of St. Pierre-du-Bois, there is a house and estate known
by the name of Le Laurier, where loaves are distributed to the poor
on Christmas Eve and on Good Friday. Nothing certain is known of the
origin of this dole, the title-deeds of the property merely containing
the following item in the enumeration of the ground-rents due on
it:--“_Aux Pauvres de la ditte Paroisse de Saint Pierre-du-Bois,
un quartier de froment de rente, à être distribué en pain aux dits
pauvres, à deux diverses fois; savoir, deux boisseaux, partie du
dit quartier à Noel, et les deux autres boisseaux à Pâques, comme
d’ancienneté_.”
Tradition assigns two very different reasons for the institution of
this charity, one of which is highly probable. It is that, at some
remote period of which all memory is now lost, the house took fire, and
the proprietor made a vow that if the fire could be extinguished he
would charge his estate with an annual rent, to be given to the poor
in bread. His prayer was answered, the fire yielding to the efforts of
those who were attempting to put it out, as if by miracle, and the dole
was instituted in conformity with the vow.
The other tradition, which, as it falls into the domain of the
supernatural is, of course, a greater favourite with the people, is
to the following effect. In times past, long before the memory of the
oldest inhabitants of the parish, the house, for some undefined reason,
but connected, it is surmised, with some unknown crime of a former
proprietor, was haunted from Christmas Eve to Easter by a hideous
spectre in the form of a black beast like a calf, but as large as an
ox. On Christmas Eve the inmates of the house were in the habit of
leaving the front and back doors open, and at midnight precisely the
spectre would pass through.
At last, however, the proprietor of the estate bethought himself of
calling in the aid of the clergy, in hopes that by their powerful
help the visits of this unwelcome guest might be put an end to. Their
prayers and exorcisms soon prevailed in quieting the phantom, and, by
their advice, the annual distribution of the loaves to the poor was
instituted.
It is related, however, that on one occasion the owner of the house,
instigated by his wife, an avaricious, grasping creature, who would
sooner have seen all the poor in the parish die of hunger than bestow
a crust on them, withheld the accustomed dole. He paid dear for it,
for the house was once more visited by the spectre, which this time
made its appearance in the form of a gigantic black sow, accompanied
by a numerous litter of pigs, all grunting and clamouring for food, as
if they had not eaten for a week. The master of the house was fain to
purchase peace by restoring to the poor their rights, but it is said
that to her dying day his wife never recovered from the impression this
supernatural visit made upon her.
There is a tradition also that at one time a report having been spread
abroad that the accustomed alms would no longer be distributed, the
poor, who were in the habit of receiving it, assembled at night before
the house, formed themselves into a procession, and marched through,
entering by the front door, and passing out at the back. The mistress
of the house was watching their proceedings from behind the door, and
was seen by one of the poor women, who addressed her companion, walking
by her side, in these words:--
_“Et chette-chin, est-alle des nôtes?”_
(And that woman there, is she one of us?)
To which the following answer was returned:--
_“Oh! Nennin! quer sa liette nous l’y ôte.”_
(Oh! No! for her snood proves it.)
The “liette” was the riband or snood with which, in days gone by, the
cap was fastened on the head, and was apparently a bit of finery quite
beyond the reach of the poor who had assembled on this occasion, and
only likely to be seen on the head-gear of a person in tolerably easy
circumstances.[131]
[131] Partly from John de Garis, Esq., and partly from Mrs. Savidan.
EDITOR’S NOTE.--This story was also told to Miss Le Pelley by an old
woman in St. Peter’s in 1896.
THE ENCHANTED HORSE.
A number of young men had met together one evening in search of
amusement. One of the party proposed going to a place at some
distance, where they were likely to fall in with others as fond of
fun as themselves, but, not choosing to fatigue themselves with
walking, they determined on using some of their neighbours’ horses. A
good-looking white horse was grazing hard by in a meadow. One of the
party approached, caught, and mounted him. Another got up behind, but
still there seemed room for a third: at last, to shorten the story,
the whole party, in number above a dozen, found accommodation on the
horse’s back, but, no sooner were they all well seated, than he set off
at full gallop, and, after carrying them through brambles and briers,
over hedges and ditches, to a considerable distance, deposited them all
in the most muddy marsh he could find, and disappeared, leaving them to
find their way home at midnight, in the best way they could.[132]
[132] From Rachel Du Port.
See Keightley’s _Fairy Mythology_, Vol. II., p. 294. _La Normandie
Romanesque_, p. 128. _Folk-Lore Journal_, Vol. I., p. 292.
EDITOR’S NOTES.
In _Notions Historiques sur les Côtes-du-Nord_, by M. Habasque, there
is mentioned a goblin called _Mourioche_, and it is said “Mourioche
qui revêt toutes les formes; Mourioche, la monture du diable, qui vole
avec la rapidité de l’éclair, qui parsément des points lumineux, et
_qui s’allonge tant que l’on veut, assez du moins pour porter quatre
personnes_.
“Cinq jeunes filles partirent un soir pour aller chercher un des
chevaux de la ferme qui était dans la prairie. L’une d’elles monta
sur le dos de la bête; puis une seconde; alors le cheval s’allongea,
et il y eut place pour la troisième, et les cinq filles finirent par
s’asseoir sur son dos qui s’allongeait à mesure. La monture des filles
se mit en marche, et quand elle fut arrivée au milieu du ruisseau, elle
disparut comme si elle s’était évanouie en fumée, et laissa les filles
tomber dans l’eau. Le vrai cheval était déjà rendu à la porte de son
écurie.”--_Traditions et Superstitions de La Haute Bretagne_, Tome II.,
p. 66.
THE SPECTRAL CORTÈGE.
One of the most interesting old mansions in Guernsey is that of La
Haye du Puits, in the parish of Le Castel, with its tower rising above
the roof, its handsome “porte cochère” and its pepper box turrets.
It has the appearance of having been built early in the sixteenth
century, and it is known to have been, in the reign of Henry VIII., the
residence of a family of considerable local antiquity and importance,
of the name of Henry, who had also property in Salisbury, where they
were known by the anglicised form of their patronymic, Harris. It
passed from their possession into that of the Le Marchant family, to
one of whom it still belongs, in the reign of James II.[133] It is
just one of those sort of places that one might expect to find some
legendary tale or old superstition attached to; but we are not aware
that either La Haye du Puits, or the neighbouring estate of St. George,
claims any special property in the spectral appearance, which, from
time to time, is seen at Le Mont au Deval--a steep ascent over which
the high road between the two properties passes. Persons travelling at
night along this road, which in some parts is thickly overshadowed with
trees, have occasionally met with a funeral procession, preceded, as
is customary in Guernsey, by a clergyman and his attendant clerk, and
composed of the usual carriers, pall bearers, mourners, and attendant
friends. The cortège takes its mournful way in perfect silence--and
well it may--for, of the many persons who compose it, not one is the
bearer of a head!
[Illustration: “Le Coin de la Biche,” St. Martin’s.]
There are those, it is said, who affirm to having met it, but it
is looked upon as of evil augury. The death of some one in the
neighbourhood, or of some member of the family of the person who has
the misfortune to fall in with it, is believed to follow close upon the
appearance of the headless company.[134]
[133] EDITOR’S NOTE.--It was bought by Joshua Le Marchant from the
heirs of Pierre Henry, June 3rd, 1674.
[134] From Mr. Denys Corbet.
EDITOR’S NOTE.--In Mr. Paul Sebillot’s _Traditions et Superstitions
de la Haute Bretagne_, Tome I., p. 270, we meet with nearly the same
superstition. “Un jour un homme de la Ruèe était à dire ses prières.
Il vit un enterrement qui passait à quelque distance de lui; un homme
portait la croix, puis venait la chasse, les prêtres et des hommes.
Huit jours après, un homme qui était né à la Ruèe mourut, et son
enterrement eut lieu comme celui que l’homme avait vu.”
EDITOR’S NOTES. “LE COIN DE LA BICHE.”
There is a lane leading from the post-box at the “Carrefour David,”
on the Saints’ Bay Road to “La Marette,” at the Villette, which was
formerly supposed to be haunted by a spectre in the form of an enormous
nanny-goat.
As you go along the lane to the Villette, you will see on your right
hand side a triangular corner overgrown with weeds and brambles, and,
although between two fields, not included in either. This corner is
known as “Le Coin de la Biche”--the Corner of the Nanny Goat.
Tradition marks it as one of the proposed sites for St. Martin’s
Church, but, they say, when the building was commenced, materials,
tools, etc., were moved by unknown hands, in the course of the night,
to La Beilleuse, its present site, and all attempts to build it there
had to be abandoned. Ever since then this corner has borne a bad
reputation, and none of the neighbouring proprietors will include it in
their fields for fear of ill-luck.
One evening, towards the close of the last century, Mr. Mauger, of
the Villette, and some other men, were returning home from vraiking
at Saints’ Bay. In those days, the road leading to the bay was a
water-lane with a very narrow footway and a deep rocky channel, down
which the water rushed to the sea. High hedges were on either side,
bordered with trees, so that it was a laborious journey for carts to
go up and down. When the present road was made, the trees were cut
down, and the earth from the hedges used to fill up the waterway.
Accordingly, this cart had harnessed to it three oxen and two horses,
but even then progress was slow, and it was getting late as they turned
into the lane. As they did so, one man said to the other:--
“_Creyous que nous verrons la biche?_”
(“Do you think we shall see the goat?”)
“_Si nous la veyons alle nous f’ra pàs d’mà._”
(“If we see her, she can do us no harm!”)
was the reply. Almost as he spoke out came a great hairy grey
nanny-goat from her corner, and rested her forelegs against the back
of the cart. The oxen tugged, the horses pulled, lashed on by the
terrified men, who were longing to get out of the lane. But nothing
could move the cart while the great beast stood there with her paws
on the cart and looked at them. So they finally had to unharness the
cattle, and lead them on to the Villette, and leave the cart with all
the vraic in it in the lane.
Next morning they brought one ox and one horse, who, “La Biche” being
gone, easily pulled the cart home, this part of the country being on
level ground.
Another night, Mr. Mauger, of Saints’, wanting to go and see his
brother at the Villette, took the short cut, which is a tiny lane
next to a little shop at the top of the Icart-road, and which comes
out nearly opposite “Le Coin de la Biche.” He was carrying a torch of
“gllic” (glui[135]--thick straw and resin), and felt that, thus armed,
nothing could attack him. As he turned into the lane, he heard the
clank of a chain, and, looking down, he saw a large brown beast about
the size of a small calf, with enormous red eyes, which it kept fixed
on him, walking by his side. He hurried on, and tried by walking in
the middle of the lane not to give it room to pass (the lane is barely
three feet wide), but it was always there, on the footpath, keeping
step with him. When he turned into the broader lane, where its own
special “corner” is, it turned away, and he hurried on to the Villette.
Determined not to give in to his cowardice, he came home the same
way, and there where it had left him was the beast waiting for him.
It walked with him, on his other hand this time, still keeping to the
footpath, till he got into the Icart-road, where it disappeared.
These stories were told me in 1896 by Mrs. Le Patourel, of St.
Martin’s, who was a Miss Mauger, of Saints’, and she was told them by
a relative of hers who was a daughter of the Mr. Mauger to whom these
incidents happened. She declared that they were absolutely true.
Our coachman, whose father lived in the neighbourhood at “Les Pages,”
just above Petit Bôt, told me that his father would never let him go
along that lane after dark, and would never go himself, for fear of “La
Biche,” and many other inhabitants of St. Martin’s tell the same story.
Another old man, belonging to one of the most respectable families
in the parish, and who had himself been churchwarden for eleven
years, told me that in his youth he lived in the neighbourhood of the
Villette, and one evening his sister, then a strong young girl of
sixteen, rushed in saying she had seen “La Biche.” The shock was so
great that she took to her bed and died shortly afterwards.
[135] These torches of “glui” were called “des Brandons.”