The Devil.
“The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman.”
--_Shakespeare._
“Tis a history
Handed from ages down; a nurse’s tale,
Which children open-eyed and mouth’d devour,
And thus, as garrulous ignorance relates,
We learn it, and believe.”
Various allusions to his Satanic Majesty have already appeared in these
pages. He has left his footprints on various rocks; he carried away
bodily Jean Vivian, Vavasseur de St. Michel; he fought with St. Patrick
at the Hougue Patris; and he enticed Duke Richard in the form of a
beautiful woman. He is of course head of the fraternity of wizards and
witches, and many references to him occur in all the legends dealing
with witchcraft, but there are a few stories dealing with him “in
propriâ personâ,” and these are collected in the following chapter.
It may be as well to state that his usual manifestation is believed
to be in the form of a huge black cat. He takes this shape apparently
when he wishes to pass incognito. Black cats in general are looked upon
with a suspicious eye, but if seen in the house of anyone supposed to
be addicted to magical arts, there is no doubt of their being imps of
Satan.
SATAN OUTWITTED.
It was Midsummer Day, the sun was shining brightly, and the country
people were hastening in their holiday apparel to the spot where the
militia were ordered to muster for a review, when an unfortunate
country girl was ordered by her master to weed a large field of
parsnips. He promised her that when her task was accomplished she
should be allowed the rest of the day to amuse herself; but she soon
discovered that this promise meant nothing, for that her utmost
exertions would not suffice to finish the allotted work before the
evening should close in. She commenced her task with a heavy heart,
and often lifted her head as she heard the joyous laugh of the groups
of lads and lasses as they passed along the high road on their way to
the place of rendezvous. One party followed another, and as they became
less frequent, the poor girl lost patience. Her hopes of taking any
share in the amusements of the day were nearly at an end. At last she
gave utterance to her thoughts, and wished aloud for assistance, were
it even from the Devil himself.
Scarcely had she expressed this unhallowed wish, when she thought she
heard a slight noise behind her, and, on looking round, saw a gentleman
dressed entirely in black, who in the kindest manner immediately
addressed her and enquired why she looked so sad, and how it was she
was not merry-making with her companions.
“Alas!” she answered, “I must weed the whole of this field before I am
released.”
“Oh,” said he, “is that all? Only promise me the first knot you tie
to-morrow morning and I will get your task performed.”
The girl easily agreed to these terms, and the gentleman departed.
She resumed her work, but was astonished to perceive that invisible
hands were employed in every part of the field, tearing up the weeds
and gathering them in bundles. In a very short time the ground was
clear, and she went to announce it to her master, who, astonished
at the rapidity with which she had executed his orders, gave her
permission to spend the rest of the day in amusement.
She went accordingly to the review, and from thence to the “Son,”[136]
where she danced the greater part of the evening. As night came on,
however, she began to reflect on the adventures of the morning, and to
consider that the assistance which she had accepted was most probably
not of a very holy nature, and that something more might be meant
by the promise which she had made than the mere words implied. She
returned home and retired to her bed, but was unable to compose herself
to sleep. The more she thought of what she had done the more uneasy did
she feel.
At last, in her perplexity, she resolved to rise immediately and seek
advice from the Rector of the parish. The worthy clergyman was much
alarmed at this open attack made by Satan on one of his flock, but bade
her fear nothing, but put her trust in Heaven, go home, and spend the
remainder of the night in prayer and repentance, and as soon as morning
dawned, before she fastened a single knot, to go to the barn, taking
her Bible with her, and, praying without ceasing, there bind up a
sheaf of barley straw.
The girl did as she was advised, and scarcely had she knotted the wisp
of straw, when the gentleman in black stood at her side. His looks and
voice were no longer so mild and prepossessing as they had been the
day before, and the poor maiden, no longer doubting as to the infernal
character of the stranger, was near fainting from fright. She was soon
reassured, however, when she saw the good minister enter the barn, who,
in God’s name, bade Satan avaunt. The Devil was not proof against this
solemn adjuration, but disappeared with a loud noise, and the poor
girl, full of gratitude for her miraculous escape, made a solemn vow
to avoid for the future all those places of resort and merry-makings,
by which Satan endeavours to tempt the unwary into sin, and to live
contentedly thenceforward in that station of life which Providence had
allotted to her.[137]
[136] The old name for the village dances, generally held in some
tavern to the sound of that obsolete instrument, the “chifournie.”
[137] From Miss Louisa Lane.
In the tales of this nature related in Lower Brittany, the soul that is
sold to the evil one is always rescued by the advice or intercession of
a holy hermit or priest, see Luzel’s _Veillies Bretonnes_, p. 132.
“Quand le diable paraît, il est généralement vêtu de couleur sombre, et
souvent il ressemblerait exactement à une “manière de monsieur” ou à
un gros fermier, si on ne regardait ses pieds, dont l’un au moins est
déformé et semblable à un sabot de cheval. Parfois aussi il a des gants
de cuir ou des griffes pointues. On lui prête aussi un habillement
tout rouge, et le cheval qu’il monte est tout noir.”--_Traditions et
Superstitions de la Haute Bretagne_, Tome I., p. 179.
SATAN AND THE SCHOOLMASTER.
It is good to possess knowledge, but, like all other possessions,
the benefit to be derived from it depends on the uses to which it
is applied, and there is no doubt that it exposes the possessor to
temptations which the more ignorant and simple-minded escape--to say
nothing of the envy and calumny which often follow the man who by his
superior acquirements, rises above the vulgar herd.
In the past century, the parish of St. Michel du Valle was fortunate in
having secured the services of a man of more than ordinary attainments
as its schoolmaster. Pallot was no common character, and his studious
and retiring habits were but little appreciated by the surrounding
farmers. They wondered at his superior knowledge, but could not
understand his shutting himself up in his schoolroom after the labours
of the day were over. In their opinion it would have been far more wise
and natural for him to follow the example of his scholars, and throw
aside his books until the next day. It was known that his studies were
often prolonged far into the night, and, little by little, it came to
be whispered about that these studies were of a nature that could not
bear the light of day, and, in short, that the schoolmaster was in
league with the powers of darkness. Pallot felt hurt at the imputation,
but at the same time somewhat flattered at the deference paid him by
his ignorant neighbours.
“Knowledge puffeth up,” and of all pride the pride of intellect is the
most dangerous, and exposes the man who gives way to it to the greatest
temptation. Satan knows well how to make use of the opportunities which
are afforded him to extend his empire and work the ruin of souls. The
schoolmaster--one whose influence over the youth of the parish was
so great--was a prize worth securing, and the great enemy of mankind
laid siege to him in due form. His approaches were made with skill,
but with little or no success. At last he determined on a desperate
expedient--that of a personal interview. The conference lasted for some
hours, the most tempting offers were made, but Pallot, now thoroughly
on his guard, was firm, and had grace to resist. He had too much regard
for his soul to yield in anything to the enemy, and Satan, out of
patience, rushed out of the schoolroom, carrying off with him the gate
of the inclosure, which was found next morning on a large hawthorn bush
on the summit of the Hougue Juas.
[Illustration: “Looking up Fountain Street, 1825.”]
The thorn, which was previously green and flourishing, was blasted as
if struck by lightning, and, although not killed, never recovered its
former beauty, but retained for ever afterwards the same scathed and
withered look.[138]
[138] From Miss Harriet Chepmell.
ANOTHER VERSION OF “SATAN AND THE SCHOOLMASTER.”
It is related that in days long past there lived in the vicinity of the
Roque Balan, at L’Ancresse, a man of very superior acquirements. It is
true that he was commonly suspected of knowing more than was altogether
lawful, but as he ostensibly gained his living by instructing the youth
of the parish, and as there was no doubt that his scholars profited by
his teaching, the neighbouring farmers made no hesitation in sending
their sons to him. Among his pupils was one lad of whom he was justly
proud, for a prying curiosity and love of acquiring knowledge, joined
to a retentive memory and a sharp intellect, had made the boy, in the
opinion of many, almost a match for his master. Curiosity and a love of
acquiring knowledge may be good in themselves, but they can be carried
too far, and this proved to be the case with the young scholar.
He had noticed some old-looking tomes which his preceptor kept always
carefully locked up in an old carved oak chest, and had long felt
most anxious to pry into their contents. The clearest hints he could
give, and even the openly-expressed wish to be allowed to peruse the
hidden volumes, met with no response on the part of his teacher. He
determined to watch his opportunity, and to get a sight, by hook or
by crook, of the contents of the mysterious books, and one day, when
the master had been called away suddenly to make the will of a dying
man, and had inadvertently left his keys behind him, the youth seized
on them, and, as soon as his back was turned, proceeded to examine the
contents of the chest. He lifted one of the ponderous tomes, opened it
at hazard, and commenced to read out aloud the first passage which met
his eye. Unfortunately this proved to be the spell by which the Prince
of Darkness can be summoned to this upper world to do the bidding of
his votaries. Great was the terror of the indiscreet youngster when
a sudden violent storm arose, which went on increasing in intensity,
and Satan in person appeared before him and demanded what he wanted of
him. The unfortunate boy knew not what answer to make, nor what task
to impose on the demon to get rid of him at least for a time, until
the return of the master. Pallot, who was already at some distance
from home, hastened back, and entered the house just at the moment
when Satan, tired of waiting and enraged at having been unnecessarily
called up, had seized on the inquisitive scholar and was on the point
of flying off with him. The master, at a glance, perceived how matters
stood, and, uttering a hasty spell, arrested the demon in his course.
He then proceeded to set him a task, promising him that if he succeeded
in accomplishing it before sunset he should be at liberty to carry off
his prey.
The Devil made some difficulty in acceding to these terms, but the
schoolmaster, determined, if possible, to save his unfortunate pupil,
was firm, and not to be influenced either by the threats or cajoleries
of the arch-fiend. He caught up a peck-measure containing peas, and
scattered them on the floor, handing at the same time a three-pronged
pitch-fork to the Devil, and ordering him with that instrument to throw
the peas over the door-hatch into the court-yard.
Satan took the fork and set to work with right good will, but soon
found that it was labour in vain. Not one pea could he raise from the
floor. The sun was fast sinking below the horizon. As the last portion
of its orb disappeared beneath the western wave, the enraged and
disappointed demon wrenched the door-hatch off its hinges and cast it
far away in the direction of Les Landes. There it was found the next
morning on a thorn-bush, which had been green and flourishing the day
before, but which, since that time, is blasted and flattened almost to
the level of the ground, though it still lives and is pointed out as a
proof of the truth of this history.[139]
[139] From Sieur Henry Bisson.
This incident is found in a Breton legend, as told by Dr. Alfred
Fouquet in his work _Légendes, Contes, et Chansons Populaires du
Morbihan_, apropos of the first occupant of the lands on which the
Château de Herlean was afterwards built. Satan undertook to be the
servant of a peasant as long as work could be found for him to do.
He accomplished the most difficult tasks with the greatest ease. At
last the peasant emptied a sack of millet into the court-yard and
ordered Satan to pitch it up to him in the granary with a hay-fork. He
acknowledged his inability and was ignominiously dismissed.
A somewhat similar story is also told in _Notes and Queries_. The Vicar
of a certain Devonshire parish was a diligent student of the black art,
and possessed a large collection of mysterious books and MSS. During
his absence at church, one of his servants entered his study, and,
finding a large volume open on the desk, imprudently began to read it
aloud. He had scarcely read half a page when the sky became dark and
a great wind shook the house violently. Still he read on, and in the
midst of the storm the doors flew open and a black hen and chickens
came into the room. They were of the ordinary size when they first
appeared, but gradually became larger and larger, until the hen was of
the bigness of a good-size ox. At this point, the Vicar (in the church)
suddenly closed his discourse and dismissed his congregation, saying
he was wanted at home and hoped he might arrive there in time. When he
entered the chamber, the hen was already touching the ceiling. But he
threw down a bag of rice which stood ready in the corner, and, whilst
the hen and chickens were busily picking up the grains, the Vicar had
time to reverse the spell.
EDITOR’S NOTE.--This story is still believed. It was told me by Miss
Falla in 1896.
THE DEVIL AND THE TAILOR.
The race of journeymen tailors and shoemakers, hired by the day to
make up, at the houses of their employers, the materials that have
been provided beforehand, or to patch and mend the clothes and shoes
requiring repairs, is not yet quite extinct in the rural districts of
Guernsey; although the facility of access to the town of St. Peter
Port, afforded by the excellent roads which intersect the island in all
directions, and the superior make and fashion of the articles supplied
by the tradesmen in town,--to say nothing of the ready-made clothing so
generally used in the present day--have had the effect of considerably
diminishing the number of men who gain their living in this way.
Although we have no knowledge that the journeyman tailor was ever the
important character here that he is in Brittany and even in Normandy,
where he is sometimes employed in the delicate office of negotiating
marriages between the families of distant hamlets, and where he is
often the sole means of circulating the news of the outer world, or
carrying the gossiping tales of one village to another, yet even here
his presence for a day or two in a house is looked forward to with
pleasure as a break in the monotony of the daily family routine; and if
he should chance to be what the French call “un farceur,” or teller of
good stories, he is doubly welcome.
It must be acknowledged that, as a rule, this class of men are not
supposed to be very particular as to the exact truth of the stories
they put in circulation, and that some of them would be better members
of society, if, on quitting their work, they were to go straight home,
without thinking it a part of their duty to turn into every house where
drink is sold, that they may chance to fall in with on their way.
The hero of the following adventure, if fame does not belie him, is one
of this sort, and, although he affirms the truth of the story, there is
no corroborative evidence that it is anything more than the dream of a
drunken man.
It appeared in a letter from a correspondent to the _Gazette de
Guernesey_ of the 22nd December, 1873, and is translated literally,
omitting only the writer’s sensible remarks on the folly and simplicity
of those who could give credence to such an invention, and on the
superstition which, in spite of education, is still so prevalent among
the lower orders. There is no doubt that the story was widely spread
and believed in the country, and that the tailor, when questioned about
it, asserts it to be true.
He is an inhabitant of the parish of Torteval, and a Guernseyman born
and bred, although bearing a name which shews that his family came
originally from another country. One evening, as he was returning from
his work, a certain tailor, who shall be nameless, and who bears but an
indifferent character, met with an adventure which was far from being
agreeable. A man, dressed entirely in black, of a sinister aspect, and
mounted on a black horse, met him on his way. This strange looking
individual stopped the tailor, and the following conversation took
place:
“Hallo, you’re a tailor, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir, at your service,” answered the tailor, somewhat alarmed.
“Then I wish you to make me a pair of trousers, which I will come and
fetch at your house to-morrow at noon.” And, so saying, the stranger
went on his way.
“But, sir,” cried the tailor, running after him, “You’ve forgotten to
let me take your measure.”
“Bah! what does that matter?”
“But, sir, I shall never be able to fit you if I’ve not got your
measure.”
“Well then, take it,” said the gentleman in black, dismounting from his
horse. “There!”
But imagine the poor tailor’s dismay! There were no legs to be seen. Do
what he would, it was impossible to take a proper measure for trousers
under such circumstances. A horrible suspicion flashed through his
mind.
“It must be the Devil,” thought he to himself. “How shall I get rid of
him?”
Alarmed, horrified, trembling in all his limbs, feeling his legs giving
way under him, our poor tailor only got out of the scrape by stammering
out these few words--
“Well, sir, your trousers shall be ready to-morrow at noon.”
“Look to yourself if they are not ready. I shall come and fetch them
at your house,” answered the dark-visaged and black-coated individual,
leaping on his horse and going on his way.
Seized with uncontrollable fear, it is said that the tailor went
straight to the Rector of his parish, and told him the whole of his
adventure. The good parson advised him to make the trousers, and
promised him that he would not fail to be with him the next day to be
witness to the delivery of them. Accordingly, the next day, at the hour
appointed, and, but a few minutes after the arrival of the clergyman,
who was beforehand with him, the Devil knocked at the tailor’s door to
claim the trousers; and the hero of our tale, in delivering them, heard
his Satanic Majesty utter these words--
“If a man of God had not been present in this house, I would have
carried you off also.”
RECENT APPEARANCE OF THE DEVIL.
Whatever may be the spread of rationalism in other places, a belief
in the personality of Satan still holds its ground firmly in the
minds of our peasantry. How can it be otherwise when there are those
who, within the last two or three years, have had the rare chance of
seeing him “in propriâ personâ;” and this in a locality which, one
might suppose, would be about the very last that he would be inclined
to honour with his presence? The neighbourhood of L’Erée, it is true,
has never borne a very high character. Everyone knows that from time
immemorial the hill of Catiauroc and the beach of Rocquaine have been
the favourite resort of witches and warlocks, and that their infernal
master holds his court there every Friday night, and, seated in state
on the cromlech which is called “Le Trépied,” receives the homage of
his deluded votaries. But who could suppose that he would leave this
time-honoured haunt to become the inmate of a Methodist Chapel? Such,
however, if we can attach any credit to the statements of the fishermen
and others who inhabit this coast, is undoubtedly the case.
[Illustration: “Looking down Berthelot Street, 1880.”]
Within the last few years the Wesleyans have erected several small
chapels in various parts of the island, and, among others, one near
a place called “Les Adams.” Shortly after the chapel was finished it
began to be whispered about that lights were seen in it at hours of
the night when it was well known that no one was likely to be there.
The light is described by some who had seen it from a distance as if
illuminating the whole of the interior, but some fishermen who were
bold enough to draw near and look in at the windows could see nothing
but a small subdued flame in one corner, which seemed to sink downwards
into the earth. A gentleman of strict veracity, formerly residing
about a mile from the spot, declared that he had frequently seen the
mysterious light. He described it as being of a pale blue colour, and
was convinced that it did not proceed from either candle or lamp. He
had seen it from various points, from the rising ground inland, to the
east of the chapel, and from the low lands lying along the sea-shore
to the west. It seemed to occupy a particular spot in the building,
for the light appeared brightest through one of the windows, and
fainter through all the others. He had observed it on many occasions
immediately after dusk, and at hours when it was most unlikely that
any person would be in the chapel for any improper purpose. On drawing
near, the light always disappeared. The state of the weather or of
the moon seemed to make no difference in it. Curiosity, thus excited,
had to be appeased, and, at last, some of the fishermen ventured to
approach the chapel and peep in at the windows. What they saw they
described as “Le Dain,” the name by which his Satanic Majesty is
designated when it is thought proper to avoid the more offensive
appellation of “Le Guyablle.” Sparks of fire issued from his mouth and
nostrils, the traditional horns and tail seem to have been discerned,
but the cloven feet were hidden by long boots covering the knees, and
which, according to some accounts, were red.
His occupation was as difficult to be accounted for as his presence
in so unusual a place. It was that of dancing and leaping with all
his might and main! Whether the fishermen really saw anything which
their fears magnified into a vision of the wicked one, or whether, for
reasons of their own, they wished to impose upon the credulity of their
neighbours, it is impossible to say. One thing is certain, and that
is that persons of the highest respectability, living in that part of
the country, vouch for the fact of the lights having frequently been
seen in the chapel at hours of the night when it ought not to have been
occupied. It does not seem to have occurred to them that many of the
mariners on this part of the coast are employed at times in carrying
off packages of tobacco to the English and French boats engaged in
smuggling, and that, as a temporary depôt may be sometimes required
for these goods, the chapel may have been selected for the purpose, in
preference to a dwelling house or other private property, the owner of
which, in case of detection, might be subjected to much inconvenience.
But the neighbouring peasants have their own method of explaining these
supernatural appearances.
Some say that they are a judgment on the original founders of the
chapel, who, as it is believed and reported, after having collected
ample subscriptions towards the building, pretended that the funds
were insufficient, and defrauded the workmen whom they had employed
of their just dues. Others say that the original proprietor of the
land on which the chapel is built, was importuned by his wife to make
a free gift of the site, but, being strongly averse to dissent in all
forms, could never be brought by her to consent to the alienation;
but that immediately on the death of the old man, the widow, who,
after a youth spent in frivolity and pleasure, had turned wonderfully
pious in her declining years, took measures to make over the ground to
the dissenters, and, not content with this, squandered on them large
sums of money which ought rightly to have been reserved for her late
husband’s children by a former marriage. The spirit of the departed
could not brook such disregard of his wishes, and such disrespect for
his memory, and manifests his displeasure by haunting the spot of
which his children ought never to have been deprived.
EDITOR’S NOTE.--When in Sark in 1896 I was told by one of the old
Sark men, how a Sark fisherman defeated the Devil. This fisherman was
supposed to be given to witchcraft, and one day he succeeded in raising
the Devil, when Satan appeared and asked him what commands he had for
him. The fisherman had nothing to say. Finally he said, “You must
carry me where I tell you.” They were then on the far end of Little
Sark. So the Devil consented, but on the understanding that when they
reached their destination, the man, in his turn, should do what Satan
commanded. So the man mounted on Satan’s back, and first was carried
across the Coupée. “_Allez plus loin_,” (Go farther) said the man. Then
they went on to the Carrefour, near where the Bel Air Hotel now is.
“_Allez plus loin_,” said the man when Satan stopped for a rest. Then
they reached the Port du Moulin, where the fisherman’s cottage stood.
“_Au nom du Grand Dieu--Arrêtez!_” (In God’s name--Stop!) At that the
Devil had to put him down and fly away shrieking, “for,” as the old man
concluded his story, “he is powerless when God’s name is said.”