VI.

Our holy island’s shores at last, One Tuesday morn they reach; But on the Hanois rocks are cast, And soon on Rocquaine’s beach The waves their lifeless corpses threw, That vengeance still will guilt pursue, Their dismal fate may teach.

[230] EDITOR’S NOTE.--I have also met with an account of the destruction of the Tower of Castle Cornet by lightning in 1672, in some old MSS. dated 1719, where the visitation is ascribed to the sins of the people!

[231] EDITOR’S NOTE.--On the slope of the hill rising to the south of Perelle Bay there is also a spot called “La Bataille,” and about a quarter of a mile further inland another spot called “L’Assaut.” This probably refers to some other conflict.--_From J. de Garis, Esq._

THE RECAPTURE OF SARK.

At the beginning of the present century, when little more was known of the Norman Islands than their names, it might have been necessary, in speaking of Sark, to describe where it is situated. Guernsey, Jersey, Alderney, Sark, and Man, were always associated together in Acts of Parliament and in school books for teaching children geography; and while there were many who believed the five to form but one group, there were many others who would have been very much puzzled to point out on the map the precise situation of any one of them. Now, thanks to the incessant intercourse with England by means of steam, and the attractions the islands present as resorts for tourists and excursionists, they are as well known as most watering places on the English coast.

Sark, though the smallest of the group, is by many considered the most beautiful of the Channel Islands, and, certainly in point of rock and cliff scenery, combined with the ever-varying effects of sea and sky, there are few lines of coast, of the same extent, that can compare with it. So precipitous are the shores on all sides, that there are very few spots where a landing can be effected, and in former days it would not have been difficult to repel an invader, merely by rolling down stones from the heights.

Of the history of Sark but little is known. St. Maglorius, a Briton from South Wales, who succeeded his kinsman, St. Samson, Bishop of Dol, about the year 565, in that see, gave up a few years afterwards his pastoral charge to his successor, St. Budoc, and retired to end his days in meditation and prayer in Sark, where he established a convent and college for training young men as missionaries to the neighbouring nations. As a priory, dependent probably on some one or other of the large monasteries in Normandy, this convent was still in existence in the reign of Edward III., but the wars between this monarch and the French king, seem to have been the cause of the monks withdrawing themselves entirely from the island about the year 1349. After the departure of the monks, Sark appears to have become the resort of pirates, who did so much injury to the trade of the Channel, that, in 1356, a vessel belonging to the port of Rye was fitted out by the merchants of that town and of Winchelsea to endeavour to expel this band of marauders. This they succeeded in doing, and are said to have effected an entry into the island by means of a stratagem, which Sir Walter Raleigh, sometime Governor of Jersey, where he may be supposed to have gained his information, relates as having occurred in the reign of Queen Mary, and attributes to the crew of a Flemish ship.

We copy Sir Walter Raleigh’s account of the re-taking of Sark, from his _History of the World_, Part I., Book IV., chapter XI., p. 18, but must premise by saying that he is incorrect in stating that Sark had been surprised by the French in the reign of Queen Mary. It was in the year 1549, during the reign of her brother Edward VI., that the French, being at war with England, and finding the island uninhabited, landed four hundred men and took possession of it. The anonymous author of _Les Chroniques de Jersey_, written apparently in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, in noticing the recapture of Sark by Flemings, says nothing of the stratagem, but simply that, guided by some Guernseymen, they landed at night and overpowered the French garrison, which, at that time, was very much reduced in numbers.

“The Island of _Sark_, joining to _Guernzey_, and of that Government, was in Queen _Mary’s_ time surprized by the _French_, and could never have been recovered again by strong hand, having Cattle and Corn enough upon the Place to feed so many Men as will serve to defend it, and being every way so inaccessible that it might be held against the _Great Turk_. Yet by the industry of a Gentleman of the _Netherlands_, it was in this Sort regained. He anchored in the Road with one Ship, and, pretending the Death of his Merchant, besought the _French_ that they might bury their Merchant in hallowed Ground, and in the Chapel of that Isle; offering a Present to the _French_ of such Commodities as they had aboard. Whereto (with Condition that they should not come ashore with any Weapon, not so much as with a Knife), the _French_ yielded. Then did the _Flemings_ put a Coffin into their Boat, not filled with a Dead Carcass, but with Swords, Targets and Harquebuzes. The _French_ received them at their Landing, and, searching every one of them so narrowly as they could not hide a Penknife, gave them leave to draw their Coffin up the Rocks with great difficulty. Some part of the _French_ took the _Flemish_ Boat, and rowed aboard their Ship to fetch the Commodities promised, and what else they pleased, but, being entered, they were taken and bound. The _Flemings_ on the Land, when they had carried their Coffin into the Chapel, shut the Door to them, and, taking their Weapons out of the Coffin, set upon the _French_. They run to the Cliff, and cry to their Companions aboard the _Fleming_ to come to their Succour. But, finding the Boat charged with _Flemings_, yielded themselves and the Place.”

Falle, the historian of Jersey, in citing this anecdote says:--“I have seen Memoirs which confirm the taking of this Island by such a Stratagem; but the other Circumstances of Time and Persons do not agree with the foregoing Story.”

He then quotes, in a footnote, a passage from a MS. chronicle in Latin, which appears to have been in the possession of the de Carteret family, Seigneurs of St. Ouen, in Jersey, giving an account of the recapture of Sark by a vessel from Rye, by means of the stratagem related above, but he does not assign any date to the transaction.

It would be rash to assert that no such event ever occurred in the history of Sark, but it is curious to note that similar stories are told of Harold Hardráda, a Scandinavian adventurer who was in the service of the Byzantine Emperors, and of the famous sea-king, Hastings. The former fell dangerously ill while besieging a town in Sicily. His men requested permission to bury him with due solemnity, and, on bringing the coffin to the gates of the town, were received by the clergy. No sooner, however, were they within the gates than they set down the coffin across the entrance, drew their swords, made themselves masters of the place, and massacred all the male inhabitants.

Hastings, about the year 857, entered the Mediterranean with a large fleet, appeared before the ancient Etruscan city of Luna, professed to be desirous of becoming a Christian, and was baptised by the Bishop. After a time he pretended to be dangerously ill, and gave out that he would leave the rich booty he had amassed to the Church, if, in the event of his death, the Bishop would allow him to be interred in one of the churches of the city. This was conceded, and, shortly afterwards, his followers appeared, bearing a coffin, which they pretended contained his dead body. No sooner had they entered the church and set it down, than Hastings started up, sword in hand, and slew the Bishop. His followers drew their swords, and, in the confusion, soon made themselves masters of the city.

[Illustration: Old Mill, Talbot.]

These particulars are taken from Bohn’s editions of Mallet’s _Northern Antiquities_, pages 169 and 170. Perhaps the earliest known germ of this story is to be found in the famous Trojan horse; but it is curious to note that a tale, similar in all its incidents to that related of Sark, is told as having happened in the reign of William and Mary at Lundy, a small isle in the Bristol Channel. It will be found in _Murray’s Handbook for Travellers in Devon and Cornwall_; and as the date assigned to it is long subsequent to the publication of Sir Walter Raleigh’s _History_, the natural conclusion is that the incidents in the alleged taking of Lundy, have been borrowed from those of the recapture of Sark, as narrated by Sir Walter. In confirmation of this view of the case we would draw attention to the circumstance that the “Gentleman of the Netherlands,” with his crew of Flemings, of the earlier narrative, becomes in the later edition of this story “A ship of war under Dutch colours.”

With these preliminary remarks, we proceed to copy the account of the surprise of Lundy:--

“The principal event in the history of Lundy is its capture by a party of Frenchmen, in the reign of William and Mary. A ship of war, under Dutch colours, brought up in the roadstead, and sent ashore for some milk, pretending that the captain was sick. The islanders supplied the milk for several days, when at length the crew informed them that their captain was dead, and asked permission to bury him in consecrated ground. This was immediately granted, and the inhabitants assisted in carrying the coffin to the grave. It appeared to them rather heavy, but they never for a moment suspected the nature of its contents. The Frenchmen then requested the islanders to leave the church, as it was the custom of their country that foreigners should absent themselves during a part of the ceremony, but informed them that they should be admitted to see the body interred. They were not, however, detained long in suspense; the doors were suddenly flung open, and the Frenchmen, armed from the pretended receptacle of the dead, rushed, with triumphant shouts, upon the astonished inhabitants, and made them prisoners. They then quietly proceeded to desolate the island. They hamstrung the horses and bullocks, threw the sheep and goats over the cliffs, and stripped the inhabitants even of their clothes. When satisfied with plunder and mischief, they left the poor islanders in a condition most truly disconsolate.”

No reference to any authority for the story is given, and it is difficult to conceive that such an unprovoked and barbarous outrage, leading to no useful end--for Lundy could be of little or no use to either in time of war--could have been perpetrated so lately as the reign of William III.; but in the case of Lundy, as well as in that of Sark, the date assigned to the event is extremely vague, some asserting that it happened in the time of the great rebellion, others that it is to be found related by one of the old chroniclers who wrote the history of that long period of civil strife known as the Wars of the Roses.

THE ALARM OF PULIAS.

A time of war between England and France would naturally cause great anxiety and excitement in all the Channel Islands. Situated as they are, so near to the French coast that buildings of any size may be discerned in clear weather by the naked eye, and coveted by that nation ever since the time when King John, having lost Normandy, the islands, firm in their allegiance to the Duke, followed the fortunes of England, they were peculiarly exposed to a hostile attack.

England, fully aware of the importance of these islands, and knowing well what a command of the Channel the possession of them gives, has always been careful to have them well fortified and garrisoned in time of war, and to keep a fleet cruising in their waters. The local militia--a body of men which may be more correctly termed trained bands, for, by the ancient constitution of the islands, every male capable of bearing arms _must_ be trained to the use of them, and is required to serve his country from the age sixteen to sixty--forms a subsidiary force, frequently and carefully drilled. In times when danger was to be apprehended, watch houses were erected on all the hills and promontories round the coast, where a vigilant lookout was kept up night and day; and near each of these was placed a large stack of dried furze, which might be set on fire at a moment’s warning, and which would convey the intelligence of approaching danger to all parts of the island. The keeping of these guards was confided to the militia, or, to speak more precisely, to householders, who were told off by the constables of their respective parishes for this duty. Every house, in its turn, had to furnish a man, and even females living alone were not exempt, but were expected to find a substitute. These substitutes, being well paid for their trouble, were, of course, not difficult to be met with; but as they were for the most part idle fellows, and as they were enrolled under their employers’ names, these last sometimes found themselves in an awkward predicament. It is said that two maiden ladies, householders, of most unblemished reputation, and belonging to two of the most aristocratic families in Guernsey, were reported one morning as having been drunk and disorderly on guard the previous night!

During the last wars between England and France there does not appear to have been, except on one occasion, any very serious alarm in Guernsey; but every now and then the sight of ships of war off Cape La Hague, in the neighbourhood of Cherbourg, gave rise to some uneasiness, and put the island on the alert. It is no wonder if some amount of fear was felt by the inhabitants on these occasions, when we remember the panic that Bonaparte’s threatened invasion in flat-bottomed boats from Boulogne, occasioned in England.

It was during the American war, in the early part of the year 1781, shortly after the attempt made on Jersey by the French adventurer, de Rullecour, so gallantly repelled by a small body of the regular forces and the militia of that island, under the command of Major Pierson, who was killed fighting bravely at the head of his troops, that a drunken frolic of three thoughtless youths threw the whole island of Guernsey into a state of consternation, and was the unfortunate cause of the death of several sick persons.

On the night of Sunday, the 4th of March, these men, officers in one of the militia regiments, after attending a muster of the force, which, in those days, generally took place on the Sunday, had finished the day by dining together, and were returning from the Castel parish to their homes in the Vale and St. Sampson’s. Their way was along the sea-coast, at that time not nearly so thickly inhabited as at present, and, on arriving at an almost solitary house, situated near the marsh of Pulias, just at the foot of the hill of Noirmont, on which a watch and a beacon, ready to be fired, were always in readiness, the fancy took them to knock at the door of the cottage, and to represent themselves as part of a French force, consisting of over ten thousand men, who had just effected a landing. They demanded that a guide should be furnished them forthwith to shew them the most direct road to the town, and to the residence of the Governor, promising that he should be amply rewarded for his trouble. It so chanced that the only inmates of the house were an old man and his wife. With admirable presence of mind, the man replied that it was out of his power to serve them as guide, as he had the misfortune to be stone blind, but that if they went a few hundred yards further in a direction which he pointed out to them, they would find another habitation, where, no doubt, the guide they were in search of would be forthcoming. They took their departure, going in the direction indicated to them, and, no sooner were their backs turned, than the old woman opened a window in the rear of the house, and made her way across the fields, over hedges and ditches, and through the thick furze that covers the hill, to the signal station on the summit of Noirmont. She told her story to the men on watch, and it was not many minutes before the beacon was in flames, and the signal taken up by all the others round the coast. A swift messenger was sent into town with the unwelcome news. Before long, the alarm had spread into every part of the island. The troops in garrison were soon under arms, the militia regiments mustered at their respective places of meeting, and scouts were sent out to search for the enemy, and to find out where they had taken up their position. With the return of daylight, the reconnoitring parties came back to headquarters, bringing the reassuring intelligence that not a sign of an enemy was to be seen on any part of the coast. It was then evident that the whole community had been made the victim of a heartless hoax. A strict enquiry was set on foot to discover the authors of it, but, though suspicion pointed strongly in the direction of the real culprits, nothing definite could be brought home to any one in particular; but the surmise was converted into certainty by the sudden departure from the island of the suspected

## parties, who did not venture to return to their homes till many years

afterwards, when the affair was well-nigh forgotten, and when there was no longer any danger of their being called to account for their mad freak. A bitter feeling was, however, engendered in the minds of the people, which found vent in satirical songs, some verses of which are still remembered.

JEAN BRETON, THE PILOT.

From the earliest times of which we have any authentic record, the people of Guernsey appear to have been a seafaring race. Perhaps they inherit their disposition for maritime pursuits from their remote ancestors, those hardy Scandinavian adventurers, who, there can be no doubt, found these islands a very convenient resort in their early piratical incursions, and probably had settled in them long before they took possession of that fertile province of France, now known as Normandy, the land of the Northmen. But, however this may be, the inhabitants of these islands could scarcely be other than mariners, surrounded as they are by a sea abounding in an endless variety of fish, and especially when we take into consideration the small extent of land in them available for agricultural purposes compared with the teeming population which,--exclusive of that of the town, which has increased considerably since the beginning of the nineteenth century--appears from authentic documents to have been quite as dense in the rural districts in the early part of the fourteenth century as it is in the present day.[232]

Their situation gave the islands importance in a strategical point of view, and was favourable also to the development of commerce, possessing moreover, as they did, the extraordinary privilege of neutrality in times of war between England and France.

[Illustration: Water Lane, Couture.]

After the forfeiture of Normandy by King John, it was long before the inhabitants of that Province acquiesced cordially in their change of masters; and the district known as _Le Cotentin_, to which the islands naturally appertained, was last to give up their allegiance to their ancient Dukes. Indeed, it can scarcely be said to have been lost entirely to England, until the final expulsion of our kings from all their continental possessions in the reign of Henry VI. During the long wars between the two nations, the possession of these islands was of the utmost importance to England, commanding as they did so long a line of the French coast. Guernsey alone at that time possessed a tolerably secure haven, the early existence of which is proved by a charter of William the Conqueror, dated prior to his invasion of England, in which St. Peter Port is mentioned. Edward I. allowed of certain dues on merchandise being levied for the improvement of this harbour, and that an active trade was carried on between Guernsey and the English possessions in Acquitaine is undoubted. No wonder then that we find the names of Guernsey ships in the lists of those chartered for the conveyance of troops to France in time of war. But what, perhaps, more than anything else contributed to form a race of hardy and courageous seamen were the important fisheries, which, before the discovery of America and the banks of Newfoundland, gave employment to an immense amount of men, in catching, salting, and drying for exportation, the fish which abound in the neighbourhood of the islands. The dangerous nature of the coast, and the surrounding seas, is owing to sunken rocks, strong currents and tides, which vary from day to day. It requires a life-long apprenticeship to become well acquainted with all the hidden and open perils which threaten a seaman’s life. No wonder then if some of our fishermen, brought up to the sea from their earliest youth, become experienced and fearless pilots, knowing every reef, every set of the tide, and able to reckon to a nicety, how long the current will run in one direction, and when it may be expected to take a different course. In making their calculations they are very much guided by the bearings of certain marks on land, such as churches, windmills, or other conspicuous buildings, and the following anecdote, related of one of our pilots, Jean Breton, is well worthy of being remembered, not more for the skill he displayed under very trying circumstances, than for the significant and touching answer he gave when questioned whether he was sure of his marks.

In the year 1794, Captain Sir James Saumarez was at Plymouth, in command of H.M.S. _Crescent_ and a squadron consisting of two other frigates, the _Druid_ and the _Eurydice_, and two or three armed luggers and cutters. He received orders to sail for Guernsey and Jersey, to ascertain, if possible, the enemy’s force in Cancale Bay and St. Malo. On the 7th of June he left Plymouth, having, a day or two before, accidentally met Jean Breton, whom he knew. He asked him what he was doing there. “I am waiting, Sir, for a passage to Guernsey,” was the reply. Sir James, whose active benevolence always prompted him to do a kind action when it was in his power, offered to take him across, and his kindness to his poor fellow-countryman was amply repaid in the sequel. The day after their departure from Plymouth, when about twelve leagues to the N.N.W. of Guernsey, and with a fresh N.E. breeze, the English ships fell in at dawn with a French squadron of considerably greater force. The superiority of the enemy being much too great to be opposed with any chance of success, it became the imperative duty of the English commander to effect, if possible, the escape of his ships. Observing that his own ships, the _Crescent_ and the _Druid_, had the advantage in sailing, and fearing that the _Eurydice_, which was a bad sailer, would fall into the enemy’s hands, he shortened sail, and, having ordered the _Eurydice_, by signal, to push for Guernsey, he continued, by occasionally showing a disposition to engage, to amuse the enemy and lead him off until the _Eurydice_ was safe. He now tacked, and, in order to save the _Druid_, closed with the enemy, passing along their line. The capture of the _Crescent_ now seemed inevitable, but the _Druid_ and the _Eurydice_ escaped in the meanwhile, and arrived safely in Guernsey Roads, the smaller craft returning to Plymouth.

But Sir James had, for his own preservation, a scheme, to effect which required great courage, consummate skill in the management of his ship, and an intimate knowledge of the intricate passages through the reefs which render navigation, on that part of the coast in particular, so very dangerous. The providential presence of Jean Breton on board enabled him to put this scheme into execution with an almost certainty of success. Sir James knew that if there was a man in Guernsey thoroughly acquainted with every danger that besets that iron-bound shore, Jean Breton was that man; and, making a feint to run his ship on the rocks to avoid being captured by the enemy, but trusting implicitly in his pilot’s skill, he ordered him to steer through a narrow channel, a feat which had never before been attempted by a vessel of that size. The result of this manœuvre was watched with the utmost anxiety from the shore, and remarks were made by the lookers-on that Jean Breton alone, of all the pilots in Guernsey, would venture on such a perilous feat, little suspecting that it was indeed he, to whom, under God, was to be attributed the safety of the ship and her gallant crew. The frigate was soon brought to in a secure anchorage under shelter of the fire of the batteries on shore, and the French, mortified at being baulked of a prize of which they had made quite sure, had to retire from the contest.

The scene of this daring adventure was to the westward of the island, off the bays known as Le Vazon and Caûbo, on the shore of the former of which Jean Breton’s cottage was situated, and full in view of Sir James Saumarez’s own manorial residence, a position truly remarkable, for on one side was a prospect of death or a French prison, on the other side home with all its joys! When in the most perilous part of the Channel, Sir James asked the pilot whether he was sure of his marks? “Quite sure,” was Jean Breton’s reply, “for there is your house and yonder is my own!”

[232] EDITOR’S NOTE.--This was true years ago when Sir Edgar MacCulloch wrote the above, but it has ceased to be true now.

## CHAPTER XV.

Nursery Rhymes and Children’s Games.

“Gather up all the traditions, and even the nursery songs; no one can tell of what value they may prove to an antiquary.”--Southey, in a letter to Mrs. Bray, quoted in her _Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy_.

[Some of these I have found lying loose among Sir Edgar MacCulloch’s MSS. I have put them together, and added to them a few I have collected among the old country people.--ED.]

CHILDREN’S GAME.

A number of children seat themselves in a circle on the ground, as near to each other as possible, and one of the party is chosen to stand in the centre of the ring. Those who are seated keep their hands in their laps with their fists closed, and endeavour to pass a pebble or other small object from one to the other, without its being perceived by the child who is in the middle. While the game is going on they recite the following rhyme:--

“Mon toussebelet va demandant, Ma fausse vieille va quérant, Sur lequel prends tu, bon enfant?”[233]

The child in the centre of the circle is in the meantime on the look out to discover into whose hands the pebble is passing, and, if he can succeed in arresting it in the possession of any one of the players, he takes his place in the ring, and the one in whose hands the pebble was caught, replaces him in the centre.

_From Rachel du Port._

[233] EDITOR’S NOTE.--All Guernsey nursery rhymes, etc., are naturally either in old French or Guernsey French, dating as they do from the times when no other language was spoken in the island.

CHILDREN’S GAME.

A child stands in the middle and says:

“J’ai tant d’énfants à marier.”

Chorus from children standing round:

“Ah! Ah! Ah!”

The child again says:

“Ah! je ne sais qu’en faire.”

One of the children then says:

“Maman, maman, que voulez vous?”

The first child replies:

“Entrez dans la danse, faites la révérence, Chantez, dansez, et embrassez celui que vous aimerez.”

This is repeated till all the children are brought inside the circle, then the “mother” says.

“Tous mes enfants sont mariés, Je n’en ai plus un seul resté.”

Then the first child says to the “mother”:

“Entrez dans la danse, faites la révérence, Chantez, dansez, et embrassez celui que vous aimerez.”

_From Mrs. Jehan._

CHILDREN’S “COUNTING-OUT” RHYME.

The child in the centre says the first couplet and then “counts out”:

“Un loup passant par le désert, La queue levée, le bec en l’air, Un, deux, trois, Vers le bois, Quatre, cinq, six, Vers le buis, Sept, huit, neuf, Vers le bœuf, Dix, onze, douze, Dans la bouze.”

ANOTHER.

“Un “i” un “l,” ma tante Michelle, Des roques, des choux, des figues nouvelles, Ne passez pas par mon jardin, Ne cueillez pas mon rosmarin, Crim! Cram! Crue,! Elysée,! Henri! Va ’t’en!”

Sometimes the last three ejaculations are omitted.--_From Mrs. W. P. Collings._

ANOTHER.

“A la grand’ rue Les étoiles y sont suspendues; Du vin blanc, et du vin noir, On le met à baptizer, Sur le dos de la cuiller. La cuiller se passe, L’enfant trépasse, Ainsi, par ci Mon cœur me dit Ceci, celà, Hors d’ici Hors de là!”

--_From Miss Harriet de Sausmarez, aged ninety. Used by children in her youth._

OTHERS.

“L’un de la lune Deaux, des ch’vaux Très des peis, Quâtre d’la grappe Chinq, des chelins, Six du riz. Sept du lait, Huit, de la gâche cuite, Neuf, du bœuf, Dix, pain bis, Onze de la congre, Douze de la bouze.”

--_From Mrs. W. Ozanne._

[Illustration: Hautgard, St. Peter’s, showing Pilotins.]

“Hickory, Airy, Ory, Anne, Biddy, boddy, over San, Père, Père, Vierge et Mère,[234] Pit, Pout, out, one!”

--_From Miss Annie Chepmell._

ANOTHER VERSION.

“Eckary, airy, ory Anne, I believe in ury San, Père, père, what’s your mère, Pit, pout, out, one!”

--_From Mrs. Mollet, La Villette._

ANOTHER.

“Onery, Twoery, Dickery, Davy, Arabo, Crackery, Jennery, Lavy, Wishcome, Dandy, Merrycome, Time, Humberry, Bumberry, Twenty-nine.”

--_From Mrs. Durand, sen._

[234] Or sometimes “Birds of the Air.”

These words sound like a burlesque of Roman Catholicism, especially of the words of administration of the Mass.

Nurses’ Rhymes.

NAMES OF THE FINGERS.

The nurse takes the child’s hand, and beginning with the thumb says: “_Gros det_,” “_Arridet_,” (for the index finger.)

[Métivier, in his Dictionnaire Franco-Normand, says it comes from an obsolete word, “_arrer_” or “_arrher_,” meaning to promise, to ratify, to buy; and quotes the “Speculum Saxonum II., 15, I.” “Celui qui commence une cause devant le juge pour laquelle il est tenu de donner caution … du doigt.”]

“_Longuedon_,” or “_mousqueton_,” the middle finger, “_Jean des Scéas_,” the ring finger, or the finger which wears the signet. Métivier (page 443 of Dictionnaire Franco-Normand) gives as evidence of the signet being worn on this finger, Macrobius VII., 13, p. 722. Edit. de Lyon, 1560. “Dis-moi pourquoi on s’est déterminé, par un assentiment universel, à porter l’anneau au doigt qui avoisine le petit, qu’on a nommé aussi le doigt médical: et cela presque toujours à celui de la main gauche? Voici la réponse de Disarius. ‘Ayant consulté les livres des anatomistes, j’en ai découvert la vraie cause. Ils m’ont appris qu’un nerf passe du cœur au doigt de la main gauche, qui avoisine le petit, et que c’est là, enveloppé par les autres nerfs de ce doigt, qu’il termine sa course. Voilà pourquoi les anciens se sont avisés de ceindre ce doigt d’un anneau, et, si j’ose m’exprimer ainsi, d’une couronne.’”

“_P’tit Coutelàs_,” the little finger.

The nurse puts the child on her knee and sings:--

“Sur les paires[235] et sur les poumes[236] Et sur le petit chevalot Qui va--le pas, le pas, le pas, Le trot, le trot, le trot, Le galop! le galop! le galop!”

The nurse pretends to shoe the baby’s feet and sings:--

“Ferre, ferre la pouliche, Pour allaïr vée ma nourriche, Ferre, ferre le poulaïn, Pour allaïr vée mon parrain; Ferre, ferre le cheval, Pour allaïr à Torteval.”

Another version of this rhyme is given in Métivier’s _Dictionary_. Vide _Pouliche_, namely:--

“Ferre, ferre men poulaïn Pour allaïr à Saïnt-Germaïn![237] Ferre, ferre ma pouliche Pour allaïr cîs ma nourriche.”

[235] Poires.

[236] Pommes.

[237] Saint-Germain was a fountain with medicinal properties in the Castel parish.

NURSES’ RHYMES.

The nurse tickles the baby’s hands, and says:--

“L’alouette, l’alouette a fait son nid Dans la main de mon petit, Et a passaï par ichin.” (Here she tickles the baby’s palm).

Then beginning with the thumb, she says:--

“Ch’tinchin l’a tuaïe, Ch’tinchin l’a plumaïe, Ch’tinchin l’a rôtie, Ch’tinchin l’a mangie, Et le poure p’tit querouin, Qui a étai au fouar et au moulin, N’en a pas ieü un poure p’tit brin.”

(There are several slightly different versions of this rhyme.)

Nurses, while playing with a child’s face, say:--

“Menton fourchi” (pinch the chin). “Bouche d’Argent” (touch the lips). “Nez de Cancan” (touch the nose). “Joue rotie, joue fricassée” (touch the cheeks). “P’tit œillot, gros œillot” (touch the eyes). “Craque Martel” (tap the forehead).

--_From Mrs. Kinnersly._

“En r’venant de St. Martin J’ rencontri men p’tit lapin, Il sautit dans ma grand’ chambre Et mangit toutes mes almandes; Il sautit dans ma p’tite chambre Et mangit toutes mes noix; Il sautit dans men chillier Et mangit toutes mes cuillers; Il sautit dans men gardin Et mangit men rosmarin; Il sautit dans mon galetâs Et mangit tous mes râts; Il sautit sur ma maison Et mangit mon p’tit garçon.”

--_From Mrs. David, the old nurse in the service of Mr. Gosselin, at Springfield._

“L’alouette, l’alouette, qui vole en haut, Prie Gyu pour qu’il faiche caud, Pour ses poures p’tits aloutiaux, Qui n’ont ni manches ni mantiaux Ni alumettes ni coutiaux Pour copaïr les gros morciaux.”

“Tire-lire-li, ma cauche étrille, Tire-lire-li, ramendaïs la, Tire-lire-li, j’ n’ai pas d’aiguille, Tire-lire-li, acataïs n’en,

Tire-lire-li, j’ n’ai point d’argent, Tire-lire-li, empruntaïs n’en Tire-lire-li, j’ n’ai point d’ crédit, Tire-lire-li, allou’s-en.”

“Corbìn, Corbìn, ta maison brule, Va-t-en cueure ton pain et ton burre, J’ai la cllai dans ma paoute, Jamais tu n’ la verras d’autre.”

--_From Louise Martel, of the Vale._

“Colin, Colimachon, montre mè tes cônes, Ou je te tuerai!”

--_From Louise Martel._

Métivier in his _Dictionnaire_ gives this version:--

“Limaçon, bône-bône Montre-moi tes cônes!”

ANOTHER VERSION.

“Coli, Colimachon, mourte mè tes cônes, Et je te dirai où est ton père et ta mère. Ils sont là bas, en haut du pré, A mangier d’la gâche cuite et bère du lait!”

--_From Mrs. Mollet._

“Rouge bounet, veur-tu du lait? Nennin, ma mère, il est trop fred, Rouge bounet, veur-tu d’la craïme? Oui, ma mère, caer je l’aïme.”

--_From Mrs. Mollet._

“Coquedicot, j’ai mal au det, Coquedicot, qu’est qui-t-la-fait? Coquedicot, ch’tait men valet, Coquedicot, où est qu’il est, Coquedicot, il est à traire, Coquedicot, dans qu’est qu’il trait? Coquedicot, dans son bounet, Coquedicot, dans qu’est qu’il coule? Coquedicot, dans sa grand goule, Coquedicot, dans qu’est qu’il ribotte? Coquedicot, dans sa grand botte? [238]Coquedicot, dans qu’est qu’il fait le burre? Coquedicot, dans son grand verre!”

In summer a species of small black beetle, known by the local name of “_pan-pan_,” is found very commonly in the hedges. Children are in the habit of laying these beetles on their backs, in the palms of their hands, spitting upon them, and then repeating the following words:--

“Pan-Pan, Mourte mé ten sang, Et je te dounerai du vin bllanc.”

The insect thus tortured emits a drop or two of a blood-red secretion, which is, of course, what the child is looking for.

Compare “Les feux de la St. Jean en Berry,” in _Revue des Traditions Populaires_, Vol. I., p. 171. “Il existe une petite scarabée d’un noir bleu qu’on nomme ‘_petite bête St. Jean_.’ Quand on le prend, il rend par les mandibules (la bouche) un liquide rougeâtre; les enfants excitent cette sécretion en mettant de la salive sur l’insecte, et en disant:--

‘Petite bête Saint-Jean, Donne-moi du vin rouge, Et je te donnerai du vin blanc.’”

[238] These two lines were omitted in the version known by Mr. de Garis, of the Rouvets.

See _Notes and Queries_, Vol. I., Series I, January 26th, 1850.

WHEN IT SNOWS.

“Les Français qui plument leurs ouaies Craquent leux puches et les font quée.”

--See Chambers’ _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_.

“The men o’ the East Are pyking their geese And sending their feathers here away, here away!”

“Margoton, mon amie,} bis. Margoton, mon cœur, } Il te faudra du rôti, Pour et pour, et pour et pour, Pour te mettre en appetit.”

“Patty Patoche, vendit la caboche Dans le marchi, pour des sous merquis.”

Je fus par les càmps Ma roulette roulànt. J’ rencontris Tchisette Qui m’ print ma roulette. J’ li dis “Tchisette, Rends-mé ma roulette.” A’ me répounit “Je ne t’la rendrai poiut Si tu n’me doune une croûte de lait.”

Je fus à ma mère J’ li dis “Ma mère, Doune mé une croûte de lait.” A’ me répounit “Je ne t’la dounerai poiut Si tu n’ me doune une cllavette.” Je fus à mon père J’ li dis, “Mon père, Doune mé une cllavette.” I’ me répounit “Je ne t’ le dounerai poiut Si tu n’me doune un’ tchesse de viau.” Je fus au viau J’ li dit “Viau, Doune me un’ tchesse.” I’ me répounit “Je ne t’ le dounerai poiut Si tu ne me doune du lait de la vâque.” Je fus à la vâque J’ li dit “Vâque, Doune mé du lait.” A’ me répounit “Je ne t’en dounerai poiut Si tu ne me doune de l’herbe de pré.” Je m’en fus au pré J’ li dis “Pré, Doune mé de l’herbe.” I’ me répounit “Je ne t’ la dounerai poiut Si tu ne me doune une tranche de faux.” Je fus au faux J’ li dis “Faux, Doune mé de la tranche.” I’ me répounit “Je ne t’ la dounerai poiut Si tu ne me doune de la graisse de porc.” Je fus au porc J’ li dis “Porc, Doune mé de la graisse.” I’ me répounit “Je ne t’ la dounerai poiut Si tu ne me doune un glliand de quêne.” Je m’en fus au quêne J’ li dis “Quêne, Doune mé un glliand.” I’ me répounit “Je ne t’ le dounerai poiut Si tu ne me doune du vent de maïr.” Je fus à la maïr J’ li dis “Maïr, Doune mé du vent.”

La maïr ventait--J’éventi men quêne Men quêne glliandait--Je glliandi men porc Men porc graissait--Je graissi men faux Men faux tranchait--Je tranchi men pré Men pré herbait--Je herbi ma vâque Ma vâque laitait--J’allaiti mon viau Men viau tchessait--Je tchessi men père Men païre cllavettait--Je cllavetti ma mère Ma maïre crôtait--Je crôti Tchisette Par chunna j’eus ma roulette.

This, the local version of “The House that Jack Built,” is widely known. Slightly different versions exist in the different parishes, but the above is as complete as I can make it.--_From Mrs. Mollet, Mrs. C. Marquand, Mrs. Le Patourel, and from a version collected in St. Peter-in-the-Wood, by Miss Le Pelley._

“Haptalon[239] de la Vieille Nanon Qui ribotait son cotillon.”

[239] “Haptalon” is the Guernsey equivalent of “Hobgoblin.”

[Illustration: Old Guernsey Farm House.]

Cradle Songs.

“Dindon, Bolilin, Quatre éfants dans le bain de Madame. Le petit, qui cri le bouille, Dindon, bolilin!”

“Chausseaton, berçeaton, Ma grand’mère est au païsson, Si al’en prend j’en aïron Tout sera plein à la maison! Si non, j’ nous en passerons!”

“Ton père[240] a dit qui fallait dormir (bis). Lo, lo, lo, le petit Puisque ton père a dit.” (bis).

“Makieu Dors tu? Nennin, ma mère, quer je prie Gyu, Quaille prière dis-tu? “Not’ Père” et “Je cré en Gyu.””

“Trop paresseuse, pourquoi te revaïr? Reveillez-vous joyeuse, et venez dansaïr.”

ANOTHER VERSION.

“Crolloton, berchotton, Ma grand’-mère est au païsson S’ al’en a j’en airon S’ a n’en a poiut, j’ nous en passerons.”

--_From John de Garis, Esq., of the Rouvets._

[240] EDITOR’S NOTE.--This rhyme is repeated, bringing in “mère,” “oncle,” “tante,” etc., till all the relations have been named.

Dancing Rhymes.

MON BEAU LAURIER.

It was formerly customary on holidays for the youth of both sexes to assemble in some tavern or private house to amuse themselves with dancing to the enlivening strains of the fiddle or _rote_, called in the local dialect the “_chifournie_.” These assemblies were termed “_sons_,” and were generally attended also by some of the older portions of the community, whose presence was a guarantee for the orderly conduct of the meeting. Things are now much changed. The presence of a large garrison during the wars that arose out of the first French Revolution, and the influx of a mixed population since the peace, altered the character of these assemblies in town. They came to be regarded with disfavour; parents discouraged their children from attending them; the prejudice against them extended to the country parishes, and the puritanical feeling that grew up with the rapid spread of dissent among the labouring classes was entirely opposed to any species of amusement. Whether the cause of morality has gained much by this over strictness is questionable.

The dances at these meetings were of a very primitive character, consisting almost entirely of a species of jig, by two performers, or in joining hands and moving round at a quick pace in a circle. When a musician was not to be procured, recourse was had to the united voices of the dancers, and an ancient roundelay or “_ronde_,” no doubt originally imported from France, where such dances are still common among the peasantry, helped to carry on the amusement of the evening. It is still danced occasionally by young people and children, and, as the sole remaining specimen of this kind of diversion, deserves to be recorded.

The performers, who must consist of an equal number of either sex placed alternately, join hands in a circle. They then dance round, singing in chorus:--

“Saluez, Messieurs et Dames, Ah! mon beau lau-ri-er!” (bis)

One of the girls is then selected and placed in the middle of the circle, and the rest of the party continue to dance round her singing:--

“Ah! la belle, entrez en danse! Ah! mon beau lau-ri-er!” (bis)

The next verse is:--

“Faites nous la révérence, Ah! mon beau lau-ri-er!” (bis)

On this the damsel curtseys round to the company, who go on singing:--

“Faites le pot à deux anses, Ah! mon beau lau-ri-er!” (bis)

The dancer must now set her arms a-kimbo, and so figure away in the centre of the ring until the strain changes to:--

“Jambe, enjambe en ma présence, Ah! mon beau lau-ri-er!” (bis)

This figure generally causes much merriment, for the performer is expected to clasp both arms round one uplifted knee, and hop about on the other foot, the result of which is not unfrequently a fall. Then follows:--

“Prenez cil qui vous ressemble, Ah! mon beau lau-ri-er!” (bis)

The maiden now makes selection of a partner among the youths, and both join hands in the middle of the circle, while the following words are sung to a different tune and measure:--

“Entr’embrassez-vous par le jeu d’amourette, Entr’embrassez-vous par le jeu d’amour.”

A tender embrace follows, and then the assistants sing:--

“Entr’embrassez-vous par le jeu d’amourette, Entr’embrassez-vous par le jeu d’amour.”

A kiss is now claimed from the compliant damsel, after which is sung:--

“Entrequittez-vous par le jeu d’amourette, Entrequittez-vous par le jeu d’amour.”

The girl now leaves the young man in the midst of the circle and returns to her original place, when the dance recommences with such verbal alterations as the change of the principal performers renders necessary.

The old-fashioned cushion dance, which delighted the romps of the Court of the merry-monarch, Charles II., is not altogether forgotten on these occasions.

There are several other dancing rhymes and snatches of dancing times in existence--such as the one quoted by Métivier in his _Dictionnaire_, page 148:--

“Ma coummère, aquànd je danse, men cotillon fait-i bien? Ah! vraiment oui, ma coummère, i va bien mûx que le mien. I va de ci, i va de là; I va fort bien, ma coummère, I va fort bien coumme i va.”

Another version is:--

“Ma coummère, aquànd je danse, men cotillon fait-i bien? Ah! vraiment oui, ma coummère, i va bien mûx que le mien. I va d’ici, I va de là, men cotillon, Vole, vole, vole, men cotillon vol’ra.”

One dance consisted of a sort of see-saw in different corners of the room, the couple repeating:--

“Dansez donc, ou ne dansez pas, Faites le donc, ou ne le faites pas, La-la-la.” (bis).

Dance and repeat!

Sark Games.

EDITOR’S NOTE.--In a _Descriptive Account of the Island of Sark_, published in Clarke’s _Guernsey Magazine_ for September and October, 1875, the Rev. J. L. V. Cachemaille wrote:--“The public games and amusements of the Sarkese are few, and of a simple kind; and it is only children or young people who take part in them now-a-days. Formerly they used to have a favourite amusement, consisting of six or eight men, or big boys, who placed themselves in a line, one behind the other, and held each other firmly round the waist, while two outsiders made every effort to pull them apart one after another, till one only remained. This game they called ‘_Uprooting the Gorse_,’ and the last man represented the largest or principal root. Children still keep up this game, but not very universally, nor is it often played. It was one of the chief amusements of the ‘_Veilles_.’” Mr. Cachemaille also wrote:--“A person, either young or old, disguised himself in a manner to frighten people. At the end of a stick he carried the head of a horse or donkey, and this he placed on his own head, having first enveloped himself in a sheet. By means of cords, he made the jaws of this head to open and shut with a noise, then he ran after one or the other, endeavouring to bite them with the teeth of those horrible jaws; whereupon everybody ran away as fast as they could, and there was a general turmoil, the people either screaming with fright, or else laughing at the joke. This head made the round of all the “_Veilles_,” followed by a crowd of people, and, until quite latterly, one of these heads was still to be seen in one of the principal farm houses.”

## CHAPTER XVI.

Superstitions Generally.

“Even a single hair casts a shadow.”

--_Lord Verulam._

EDITOR’S NOTE.--In this chapter are collected all the loose and unclassified bits of Folk-Lore scattered among Sir Edgar MacCulloch’s manuscripts.

The widely-diffused idea that the spirits of the dead sometimes return in the form of birds, is not altogether obsolete in these islands.

A widow, whose husband had been drowned at sea, asked the Seigneur of Sark whether a robin that was constantly flying round her cottage and alighting on her window-sill, might not possibly be the soul of the departed.[241]

The robin is a bird specially reverenced in Guernsey, as the widely-accepted belief is that it was the robin who first brought fire to the island. In bringing it across the water he burned his breast, and this is the reason why, to this day, the breast of the robin is tinged with red. “My mother,” said the old woman who told me this, “had a great veneration for this little bird, which had been so great a benefactor to those who came before us, for who can live without fire.”[242]

_Soucique._ This is the name given in Guernsey to the marigold, and also to the fire-crested or golden-crested wren, the word being derived from the Latin “solsequium.” It is probably the same as the “heliotropium.” The shape and colour of the flower, resembling the disc of the sun surrounded with rays, and the fact of the flower opening at sunrise and closing at sunset, would naturally cause it to be associated with that luminary, and considered sacred to Apollo. It is not quite so easy to account for the same name being given to the fire-crested and golden-crested wren, but we know that the wren plays a considerable part in the mythology of the Aryan nations, and is one of those birds which is believed to have brought fire from heaven for the use of man.[243] The story of its outwitting the eagle, in the contest for the sovereignty among birds, and getting nearer the sun by perching on its back, may have gained for it a name, which, as we have seen, signifies “a follower of the sun.”

[Illustration: Portion of the Old Town House (on the left) of the de Sausmarez Family, situated where St. Paul’s Chapel now stands.]

The willow-wren is known among us as “_Le Ribet_,” from _Ri_ (roi), and “_bet_,” the form known in the province of Bearn of “bel.” Vallancey says:--“The Druids represented this as the king of birds, hence the name of this bird in all the European languages. Latin, _Regulus_; French, _Roitelet_; Welsh, _Bren_ (or “king”); Teutonic, _Konig Vogel_; Dutch, _Konije_, _etc._”

A magpie crossing one’s way is of evil augury, portending vexation, or trouble of some kind. Crows cawing much in the neighbourhood of a house is also a sign of impending trouble.[244]

When the cuckoo is heard for the first time in the year one ought to run a few steps forward in order to ensure being light for the rest of the year. If you have money in your pocket, and turn it, or shake it, it will ensure good luck, and you will not want money throughout the rest of the year.[245]

“Money should be turned in the pocket when the cuckoo is heard for the first time.”

An old woman, living at the Vale used to say:--_“En Guernesi nous a coutume de dire en oyant le coucou pour la première fais:--‘Si tu ne cuers pas tu seras lourd toute l’annâie.’ Nous remue étout l’argent qu’nous peut aver dans les paoutes, en les secouant--et il y a des gens qui se mettent à genouaïx. La première fais que nous-ôt le coucou il faut mettre une grosse roque sus sa tête, arroütaïr à courre, et nou sera légier toute l’annâie._”

[241] See _Indo-European Folk-Lore_.

[242] From Rachel Du Port.

EDITOR’S NOTES.

“Another version of this story is: The robin redbreast brought fire to the Island, and by so doing burnt his breast, as he had been carrying a lighted torch in his beak. When he arrived with his breast-feathers burnt and raw and red, all the other birds were so sorry for him that they each gave him a feather, except the owl, who would not, so that is why he no longer dares show his face by day.”--_Told me in 1896 by the late Miss Annie Chepmell, who had heard it from an old servant._

“Quand la rouge-gorge alla chercher l’ feu, ses plumes furent toutes brulées, alors les oiseaux en eurent pitié et ils résolurent de lui donner chacun une plume pour la réhabiller. Seul le chat-huant, oiseau orgueilleux et peu compatissant, refusa. C’est pour cela que, lorsqu’il se montre au jour, tous les petits oiseaux crient après lui, et la rouge-gorge en particulier, qui, par son cri, lui reproche son orgeuil.”--_Traditions et Superstitions de la Haute Bretagne_, Tome II., p. 201.

[243] One country tradition says that the wren brought water to Guernsey.

[244] From J. R. Tardif, Esq.

[245] See “Folk-Lore of the North of England,” in the _Monthly Packet_, February, 1862.

CUCKOO RHYMES.

_“En Avril_ _Le coucou crie_ _S’il est vif.”_

_“Le coucou_ _S’en va en Août_ _La barbe d’orge_ _Li pique la gorge.”_

_“Coucou-Varou_ _Bave[246] partout.”_

(See _Notes and Queries_, 4th Series, Vol. III., 1869.)

It is thought lucky to shake one’s pockets and run a few steps, the first time one hears the cuckoo sing. The following lines are also repeated by some, and the number of times the cuckoo utters his note is taken as an answer to the question.

_“Coucou, cou-cou, dis mé_ _Combien d’ans je vivrai.”_[247]

I remember when I was a child, my aunt, Miss de Sausmarez, making me remark how chickens, when they drink, lift up their heads at every sip, and telling me that they did so to thank God.[248]

The bone of the cuttle fish, which is found at times thrown up on the beach, is called in Guernsey “_Pépie_.” It is supposed to possess the quality of healing the “pip” in chickens, also known as “la pépie.”

A stye in the eye is called in Guernsey “_un laurier_,” and is to be cured by bathing the eye with an infusion of laurel leaves or “lauriers.”

If a fisherman, on setting out, sees a humble bee flying in the same direction as he is going, he considers it a good omen, and that he is sure of a plentiful catch. If, however, the insect meets him, it is quite the reverse. The ill-luck, however, may be averted by spitting thrice over the left shoulder. Omens of good or bad luck are also derived from sea-birds. All depends on whether a gull or a cormorant is seen first, as, if a cormorant, no fish is to be expected that day. All fishermen also know how unlucky it is to count one’s fish until the catch has been landed, as, however freely they may be biting, counting them would inevitably stop all sport for the day.[249]

If a pair of bellows is put on a table, some great misfortune is sure to happen in the household.[250]

Richard Ferguson, fisherman, of the Salerie, tells me that there is a great objection against taking currant cake with them when they go a-fishing, it is sure to bring bad luck.

[246] _Bave_--The cuckoo spittle.

[247] See Thorpe’s _Northern Mythology_, and Chambers’ _Popular Rhymes_, p. 193.

[248] See _English Folk-Lore_, p. 95.

[249] From the late Colonel de Vic Tupper.

[250] From J. R. Tardif, Esq.

EDITOR’S NOTE.

The following scraps of Folk-Lore I have gathered from old people in St. Martin’s parish, in the years 1897-99.

THE MAN IN THE MOON.

“_J’ai ouï dire à ma gran’mère i’y a be’tôt chinquante ans qu’l’bouan homme que nou veit dans la lune enlevit un fagot de bouais le Dimanche, et pour chut fait le Bon Gyu le condamnit à s’en allair dans la lune jusqu’au Jour du Jugement. V’la l’histouaire de chut poure Mâbet que non vait si souvent perqui là-haut._”--_From Mrs. Le Patourel._

A robin flying to the window or in the house is a sign of death. Crows flocking together and cawing over the house are most unlucky. To go out and meet three crows or three magpies means good luck, all other numbers mean misfortune.

None should ever cut their finger nails on either a Sunday or a Friday if they wish to prosper. A baby’s first nails should never be cut, but bitten.

On being given a present of scissors or a knife, a double[251] should always be given in exchange. Parsley should never be taken as a gift, but it is very lucky to steal some (!).

No berried plants such as ivy, etc., should be brought into the house before Christmas, and it is especially unlucky if, when they are brought in, they are allowed to touch the mantel shelf. May should _never_ be brought into a house, and many people, especially in Alderney, consider that to bring in furze or gorse means to introduce sorrow.

Should an unmarried woman go in and out of a house through a window which is not destined as a means of entrance or exit, she will never marry.

An umbrella should never be opened in a house, or placed upon a table, quarrelling and strife are sure to follow.

It is supposed to be very unlucky when going out of the house, if the first person you meet is a woman. Never pass her if you can avoid it, but stand still and let her pass you.

To keep witches from entering a stable and molesting the cattle a piece of naturally pierced flint-stone should be tied to the key of the stable door. On going down to a beach it is considered lucky to pick up a small stone and bring it away with you. Never give away money with a hole in it.

If you think you are bewitched or that any one has a spite against you, throw a lump of salt on the fire, and as it burns blue the spite will evaporate.

Fanny Ingrouille, of the Forest parish, from whom the foregoing was obtained, also repeated the following formula, which apparently was a programme for the week of a Guernsey country girl.

_“Au matin--Pierre Martin_ _Au ser--Jean Mauger_[252] _Lundi, Mardi--Fêtes_ _Mercredi--Mà à ta tête_ _Jeudi, Vendredi--Fort travâs_ _Samedi--A la ville_ _Dimanche--Vée les filles.”_

[251] The smallest local coin, value one-eighth of a penny.

[252] “_Martin_” and “_Mauger_” are two of the most widely spread of the country names.

GUERNSEY LOCAL NICK-NAMES.

ALDERNEY = Vâques (Cows).

SARK = Corbins (Crows).

JERSEY = Crapauds (Toads).

GUERNSEY = Anes (Donkeys).

GUERNSEY PARISH NICK-NAMES.

ST. PIERRE PORT = Les Cllichards (See Métivier’s _Dictionnaire_, p. 134.)

ST. SAMSON = Raïnes (Frogs.)

LE VALLE = Ann’tons (Cockchafers.)

LE CATEL = Le Câtelain est un âne-pur-sang.

ST. SAUVEUR = Fouarmillons (Ant lions.)

ST. PIERRE-DU-BOIS = Equerbots (Beetles).

TORTEVAL = Anes à pid de ch’vâ (Asses with horses’ feet.)

LA FORÊT = Bourdons (Drones.)

ST. MARTIN = Dravants (Large Ray-fish.)

ST. ANDRÉ = Craïnchons (siftings) “Ce qui reste dans le crible.”[253]

[253] _Criblure_, Métivier, p. 152.--“In sifting corn the _craïnchons_ are the light and defective grains and husks that gather in the _middle_ of the sieve, as it is worked with a circular motion. St. Andrew’s is the _middle_ parish of the island.”--_From Mr. Linwood Pitts and “Bad’la goule.”_

EDITOR’S NOTE.

The following is a rhyme describing the girls of each parish, given me by the late Mr. Isaac Le Patourel, of St. Martin’s.

LES FILLES DES DIX PAROISSES.

_“Ce sont les filles de la Ville_ _Elles sont des jolies Belles!_ _Ce sont les filles de Saint Samson_ _Elles sont bonnes pour le lanchon!_[254] _Ce sont les filles du Valle_ _Elles sont prêtes pour faire du mal!_ _Ce sont les filles du Câté_ _Elles sont prêtes pour la gaieté!_ _Ce sont les filles de Saint Sauveur,_ _Elles sont toutes de bouane humeur!_ _Ce sont les filles de Saint Pierre_ _Ah! qu’elles sont terjours à braire!_[255] _Ce sont les filles de Tortevâ_ _Elles ont vraiment les pids de ch’vâ!_ _Ce sont les filles de la Forêt_ _Dame! ch’est qu’elles sont bien laides!_ _Ce sont les filles de St. Martin_ _Elles sont niais comme des lapins!_ _Ce sont les filles de Saint André_ _Elles seront toutes des delaissées!”_

[254] Lanchon = Sand-eels.

[255] A braire = To weep.

## CHAPTER XVII.

Proverbs, Weather Sayings, etc.

“They serve to be interlaced in continued speech. They serve to be recited upon occasion of themselves. They serve, if you take out the kernel of them, and make them your own.”--_Lord Verulam._

No nation is without its proverbs; but while in many cases these pithy sayings are the same in all languages, and merely literal translations from one dialect to another, in other instances the idea only is present, and the words in which the proverb is expressed have little or nothing in common, as, for example, the English saying:--“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” appears in French in the far less picturesque form of “_un ‘tiens’ vaut mieut que deux ‘tu l’auras’_.” Sometimes, from the peculiar circumstances of the people using it, a proverb takes a local tinge, and, in so doing, may change considerably from its original wording, while continuing at the same time to convey a similar lesson. Thus the pastoral saying:--“To lose one’s _sheep_ for a penn’orth of tar,” becomes, very naturally, among a nautical population, “to lose one’s _ship_, etc.”

Some few proverbs are so thoroughly local as to appear to have originated in the place where they are used.

Guernsey is not rich in proverbs properly so called; but, as might be expected among an agricultural and maritime people, weather-sayings are not uncommon. Many of these could no doubt be traced to the mother-country, Normandy, but some few may be indigenous, and the result of local observation.

We will give specimens of each class of these proverbial expressions, with such remarks as may be necessary to explain them as far as they can be explained; and, although many of them might be put into modern French, we have preferred retaining the old Norman dialect still preserved as the language of all the rural parts of the island.

Proverbs.

_Nou (on) ne va pas au jàn (àjonc) sans ses gànts._--No one goes to cut furze without gloves. If you would undertake an arduous matter, be well prepared for it.

_Ch’est la coue (queue) qui est la pière (pire) à écorchier (écorcher)._--It is the tail that is the hardest to flay. It is often more difficult to bring an affair to a successful end than to begin it.

_Qui sent mànjue (démangeaison) se gratte._--He who itches scratches himself. Nearly equivalent to the English saying, “The cap fits.”

_Quand le bouissé (boisseau) est pllein, i’ jette._--When the bushel-measure is full it runs over. The last straw breaks the camel’s back.

[Illustration: Building the south arm of the Town Harbour, connecting Castle Cornet with the Island.]

_Nécessitaï fait la vieille trottaïr._--Need will make an old woman trot.

_Au broue (brouille, embarras) est le gan (gain, profit)._--No exact equivalent is to be found for this proverb, but it means that profit, in some way or other, may be made where there is much doing. The English saying “No pains, no gains,” comes near it.

_Pûs (plus) de broue que de travâs (travail)._--More bustle than work. Much cry and little wool.

_Mettre daeux guerbes (deux gerbes) en un llian (lien)._--To bind up two sheaves with one wisp. To kill two birds with one stone.

_Biautaï (beauté) sans bountaï (bonté), ne vaut pas vin évantaï._--Beauty, without goodness, is not worth stale wine.

_L’amour hâle (tire) pûs (plus) que chent (cent) bœufs._--Love draws more than a hundred oxen.

_A p’tit pourche (pourceau) grosse pânais._--The little pig gets the big parsnip. The youngest child is the most petted.

_Qui paie s’acquitte; qui s’acquitte s’enrichit._--He who pays his way keeps out of debt; he who keeps out of debt gets rich. No comment is needed on this thoroughly practical proverb.

_Si nou (on) lli dounne ùn peis (pois) i’ prend une faïve._--If you give him a pea, he’ll take a bean. Give him an inch, he’ll take an ell.

_Ch’n’est pas ôve (avec) du vinaigre que nous (on) attrâpe des mouques (mouches)._--Flies are not caught with vinegar. Nothing is to be gained by roughness.

_Qui peut volaïr (voler) ùn œuf, peut volaïr ùn bœuf._--He who would steal an egg would steal an ox. Be honest in the smallest matters.

_F’rine du guiablle (diable) s’en va en bran (son)._--The devil’s flour turns to bran. Ill-gotten wealth never prospers.

_Chàngement d’herbage est bouan (bon) pour les jânes viaux (jeunes veaux)._--Change of pasture is good for young calves. Variety is necessary for the young. “Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.”

_I’ ne faut pas faire le cottìn (cabane, crêche) d’vànt que le viau seit naï._ (Avant que le veau ne soit né).--One must not make the crib before the calf is born. Do not count your chickens before they are hatched.

_S’il ne l’a en breuf, il l’aira (l’aura) en soupe._--If he does not get it in broth, he’ll get it in soup. If he cannot obtain his end by one means, he will by another.

_Apprins au ber (berceau), dure jusqu’au ver._--What is learnt in the cradle goes with one to the grave--literally “to the worm.”

_La bête d’un poure (pauvre) houme (homme) mourrait pûs-à-caoup (plus tôt) que li (lui)._--He would die more opportunely than a poor man’s beast, is said of a person whose death would not leave much cause for regret.

_Les p’tits tchiens (chiens) out de longues coues (queux)._--Is the equivalent of the French proverb, “dans les petites boîtes les bons onguents;” precious ointments are in small boxes.

_Ch’est une querrue à tchiens (charrue à chiens)._--It is a plough drawn by dogs, is said of any affair which is badly conducted--where those who ought to work in concert are pulling different ways, like two dogs on a leash.

_Un mouisson (oiseau) à la main vaut mûx que daeux qui volent._--A bird in the hand is worth two on the wing.

_Il n’y a fagot qui n’trouve sen lliàn (lien)._--There is no faggot but what at last finds a band. Every Jack has his Jill; every dog has his day.

_I’ n’y a fagot qui n’vaut sa lliache (liasse)._--There is no faggot so bad as not to be worth a band.

_Qui mange la craïme ne rend pas du burre (beurre)._--He who eats his cream makes no butter. You cannot eat your cake and have it.

_I’ ne vaut pas grànd burre (beurre)._--He or it is not worth much butter; meaning, such an one is not worth much, the matter is not worth going to any expense about; an allusion to a worthless fish on which the butter used in cooking it is so much thrown away.

_Ecoute-paret (paroi) jamais n’ot dret (n’ouit droit)._--An eavesdropper never hears good.

_I’ n’y a rien itaï (tel) que sé (soi) sa qu’minse (chemise) lavaïr (laver)._--There is nothing like washing your own shirt. If you wish a thing well done, do it yourself. It is also used in the sense of “Wash your dirty linen at home.”

_Nou (on) ne trâche (cherche) pas de la graïsse dans le nic (nid) d’ùn tchien (chien)._--No one thinks of looking for fat in a dog’s kennel. Look not for qualities where they are not likely to be found, as generosity in a miser, or honesty in a thief.

_Si ùn cat (chat) s’amord (s’adonne) au lard, nou ne sairait (saurait) l’en d’s’amordre._--If a cat takes a liking for bacon you can’t break her of it. It is difficult to get rid of bad habits.

_P’tit à p’tit l’ouaisé (oiseau) fait sen nic (nid)._--Little by little the bird builds her nest. Rome was not built in a day.

_Tout neû g’nêt (neuf balai) néquie (nettoie) net._--A new broom sweeps clean.

_I’ n’y a itaïls (tels) que les féniêns (fainéants) quand i’ s’y mettent._--There are none like idlers when they once set to work.

_Ch’est cauches (bas, chausses) grises, et grises cauches._--This is the equivalent of the French proverb “C’est bonnet blanc, et blanc bonnet,” and the English, “Six of one, and half-a-dozen of the other.”

_Ch’n’est pas les ciens (ceux) qui labourent le pûs près du fossaï (de la haie) qui sont les pûs riches._--It is not they who plough nearest the hedge who are the richest. Economy may be carried too far.

_I’ s’y entend coume à ramaïr (ramer) des chaoux (choux)._--He understands as much about it as about putting pea-sticks to cabbages. The meaning conveyed being: he knows nothing at all about it.

_Tout chu (ce) qui vient de flot se retournera d’èbe._--All that comes with the flood will return with the ebb. Riches too rapidly acquired, or ill-gotten, will disappear as quickly as they came--nearly equivalent to the French proverb “Ce qui vient de la flûte s’en va par le tambour.”

_Si l’houme aïme autre mûx que sé (mieux que soi) au moulìn i’ mourra de set (soif)._--If a man loves others more than himself, he will die of thirst even were he in a mill. The mill spoken of in this selfish proverb, which is equivalent to “Look after number one,” is, of course, a water-mill.

_Biauture (beau-temps, beauté) d’hiver; santaï (santé) de vieil homme; parole de gentilhomme; ne t’y fie, homme!_--A fine day in winter, the health of an old man, the word of a nobleman; trust to none of these, O man! The marked distinction of “noble” and “rôturier,” if such ever existed in Guernsey, died out many centuries ago; and this proverb has all the appearance of an importation from Normandy, or some other part of France, where the peasantry were oppressed by the feudal system. The word “biauture” does not belong to the Guernsey dialect, and when the saying is quoted in the present, it is generally with reference to the two first clauses.

_Un tchien (chien) vaut bien p’tit qui ne vaut pas ùn caoup de sufflet (coup de sifflet)._--A dog that is not worth whistling for is not worth much.

_Les grands diseurs sont de p’tits faiseurs._--Great talkers are little doers.

_Où ’est qu’il y a du crottin, il y a du lapìn._--Where you see their droppings, you may expect to find rabbits. Used both literally and metaphorically. There is no smoke without fire.

_Il y a terjoûs (toujours) un épi qui mànque à la guerbe (gerbe)._--There is always a spike of corn lacking in the sheaf. Nothing is ever perfect.

_I’ n’y a bouais (bois) dont non (on) n’fait buche._--There is no wood but what will serve for firing, meaning that everything can be put to some use or other; but the latter half of the proverb is sometimes varied to “_dont i’ n’ fait buche_,” and it is then equivalent to the English saying “All is fish that comes to his net.”

_Va où tu peux, meurs où tu deis (dois)._--Go where you can, die where you must. Dispose of your life as you please, death is inevitable.

_Il est niais coume Dadais qui se couachait (couchait) dans l’iaue (eau) d’paeur (peur) d’être mouailli (mouillé)._--He is as foolish as Dadais who lay down in the water to avoid getting wet in a shower.

_Il est niais coume Dadais qui tâte l’iaue pour vée (voir) s’a bouit (bout)._--He is as stupid as Dadais who puts his hand into the water to feel if it is boiling.

_Il est pûs (plus) niais que Dadais qui se fouittait de crêpes._[256]--He is more simple than Dadais who flogged himself with pancakes. The word “Dadais” is used in the sense of simpleton. In the three sayings that we have just quoted “Dadais” bears a strong family resemblance to the “Simple Simons” and “Silly Billies” of English nursery tales.

_Ch’tait du temps du Rouai (Roi) Jehan. Ch’était du temps des Scots._--Are used in speaking of events which took place beyond the memory of man. It is easy to understand how the reign of King John came to form an epoch in the history of Guernsey; for it was then that the connexion with the mother-country, Normandy, was severed, and the islands, until then part and parcel of that Duchy, became attached to the Crown of England, and have so continued ever since. But it is not so easy to say when or how the latter saying originated. It may refer to an invasion of the island by David Bruce, about the tenth year of Edward III., (A.D. 1336); when great atrocities appear to have been committed on the inhabitants; but some old people seem to think--and probably with reason--that the “Scots” were a Scotch regiment sent here in the early part of last century on a fear of hostilities breaking out between England and France. It is right, however, to notice that in the Guernsey dialect “_Ecossais_” and not “_Scots_” is used to designate Scotchmen.

_I’ mànge coum’ un varou._--He eats like an ogre, is the exact English equivalent of this saying; but there are few who use the saying who could say what is meant by “_un varou_.” It is, undoubtedly, the same as the French “loup-garou” in English--a were-wolf; and may have reference to the old superstition of men and women being turned into wolves.

_I’ s’en est allaï (allé) les pids (pieds) d’vànt._--He has gone feet foremost. He has been carried to his grave.

_Il a étaï enterraï la tête ès tchiens (aux chiens) dehors._--Is used in the same sense as “being buried like a dog.”

_Il a tête et bounet (bonnet)._--He has a head, yea, and a cap, is said of an opinionated man.

_I’ n’en reste ni tchiesse (cuisse) ni aïle._--There neither remains leg nor wing. All is lost, nothing remains.

_I’ quient (tient) d’la chouque (souche)._--He’s a chip of the old block.

_I’ fait rille (raie) de gras._--He is making a streak of fat, is said of a man who is prospering in his affairs, in allusion to a pig that is being fattened.

_I’ peut mànger sa gâche (galette) dorâïe (beurrée) des daeux bords (des deux côtés)._--He can eat his cake buttered on both sides. He is rich enough not to be obliged to spare himself any indulgence.

_I’ mànge sa dorâie (tranche de pain beurré) grajie (grattée)._--He spares the butter on his bread, either from poverty or from avarice. It is “bread and scrape.”

_I’ prend les cauches (chausses, bas,) pour les sôlers (souliers)._--He mistakes the stockings for the shoes. He is a blunderer who does not know one thing from another.

_Il a paeux (peur) des p’tits sôlers (souliers)._--He is afraid of the little shoes, is said of a man who is unwilling to enter into the estate of matrimony for fear of the additional expenses that it will entail--shoes for the children being a considerable item in the disbursements of a poor family.

_I’ n’en prend ni compte ni taille._--He takes no account nor tally. He lets matters take their course.

_V’là une fière perruque à débouquèr (démêler)._--There’s a fine wig to comb out! Is said of an affair which is almost hopelessly involved.

_Il a fait pertus (pertuis, trou) sous l’iaue (eau)._--He has made a hole in the water. He has disappeared furtively. Compare with the French saying “Il a fait un trou à la lune.”

_I’ vêt (voit) sept lieues dans la brune._--He sees seven leagues through the fog, is said derisively of a man who boasts of being more clearsighted than his neighbours.

_Il est montaï (monté) sur ses pontificaux._--He is in his pontificals, is equivalent to the English saying “He is riding the high horse,”--asserting his dignity when there is no need to do so.

_Ch’est le bouâine (borgne) qui mène l’aveuglle._--The one-eyed man is leading the blind man.

_Nou (on) ne saït pouit (point) où il puche (puise)._--One knows not what well he draws from, is said of a man who manages to get on without any very visible means of existence.

_Trop de cuisiniers gâtent la soupe._--Too many cooks spoil the broth.

_I’ n’y a pas de rue sàns but._--There is no road but has an ending. Equivalent to “It is a long lane that has no turning.”

_S’il y avait un démarieur, il airait (aurait) pûs (plus) à faire que tous les marieurs._--If there were an “un-marryer” he would have more work to do than all the “marryers.”

_Ce n’est pas tout que les chaous, faut de la graîsse à les cuire._--Cabbages alone are not sufficient, one must have grease to cook them with. Generally applied to “_parvenus_,” who have money but no manners.

_Nou’ n’engraisse pouit les p’tits cochons d’iau fine._--Little pigs are not fattened by pure water.

_Vieille pie a plus d’un pertus à son nic (nid)._--An old magpie has more than one hole in her nest. Said of a man who is skilful at evasion.

_T’as acouare les jaunes talons._--You have still got yellow heels, is said to youngsters who are too presuming in giving their opinion in the presence of their elders. Compare the French “blanc-bec” and “béjaune.”

_Ch’est la vermeïne (vermine) qui mànge (mange) l’tâs (le tas)._--It is the vermin that eats up the stack. Said of a father who has a large family of children drawing upon him and eating up all his savings.

[256] EDITOR’S NOTE.--The version I have heard of this proverb is: “Il est niais coume Dadais qui se fouittait de crêpes et tout-le-temps mourait de faim.”

Popular Sayings.

There are certain popular sayings which contain a comparison, and which, although in a strict sense they cannot be called proverbs, may yet be classed with them. Some of these contain words which have become obsolete, or, at least, antiquated. “_Vier (vieux) comme suée_” equivalent to “As old as the hills,” may be quoted as an example, for not only is the word “_suée_” obsolete, but its very meaning is forgotten and unknown. Mr. George Métivier, a learned philologist, author of the _Dictionnaire Franco-Normand, ou Recueil des Mots

## particuliers au Dialecte de Guernesey_, is inclined to refer it to

the old French _suée_ signifying _sueur_, sweat, used in the sense of labour. The conjecture is ingenious, but not quite satisfactory.

_I’ s’est maniaï (manié) coume un albroche._--He has conducted himself like a boor. Roquefort in his “_Glossaire de la Langue Romane_” explains the word _Allobroge_ as “un homme grossier, un rustre, etc.,” and gives _Adlobrius_, _Allobrox_, as the Latin forms. According to Ducange, these words signify a citizen or native of Gaul. The Allobroges, however, in the time of the Roman Empire, were the tribes inhabiting Savoy and Piedmont.

_I’ bét (boit) coume ùn alputre._--Is used in the sense of “He drinks like a fish,” but why the _alputre_,--rockling, or sea-loach,--should be singled out among fishes for bibulous propensities, it is impossible to guess.

_I’ plleut coume cis (chez) Pierre de Garis._--Is used in the sense of “raining cats and dogs.” A certain Pierre de Garis, a merchant of Bayonne, in the time when Aquitaine was governed by English Princes, was appointed to the responsible office of Bailiff of Guernsey, about the year 1325.[257] In all probability he derived his name from a small town called _Garis_, about half-way between Bayonne and St. Jean-de-Luz. He became the founder of a family of importance, not only in Guernsey, but also in the neighbouring island of Jersey, and of which there are still numerous descendants. It is not very likely that the saying dates so far back as the fourteenth century, although it has no doubt a very respectable antiquity. We can only conjecture that it must have derived its origin from some well-known Pierre de Garis of indolent or miserly habits, who allowed the roof of his dwelling to fall into decay and let in the rain, and so became a by-word with his neighbours.

_Ill’ y en a assaï (assez) pour tous les Tostevins._--There is enough for all the Tostevins--is said when there is an abundance of anything--enough and to spare. The name is extremely common in the western parishes of Guernsey, especially in St. Pierre-du-Bois and Torteval, where many of those who bear it are stone-masons who walk every day into town--a distance of five or six miles--to their work. Perhaps the good appetite they acquire in so long a walk may have had something to do in originating the saying.

_Jaune coume q’zette._--As yellow as a daffodil, is equivalent to the English saying “As yellow as crow’s foot.” It is sometimes varied to “_jaune coume du murlu_,” this last word being the local name of the corn-marigold and the ox-eye daisy.

_Vert coume ache._--As green as smallage--a herb closely allied to celery and parsley, and, like them, intensely green--is used where we should say in English “As green as grass.”

_Chièr (cher) coume paivre (poivre)._--As dear as pepper, is a comparison which must have originated when this useful condiment, now within the reach of the poorest, was a luxury brought from far and obtainable only by the rich. Quit-rents payable in pepper were not unknown in the middle-ages; and in the Extente, or account of the revenues and obligations of the Crown in Guernsey, drawn up in the fifth year of the reign of King Edward III., A.D. 1331, there is an item of a quarter of a pound of pepper to be paid annually at Michaelmas, by a tenant of lands situated in the parish of St. Martin’s. The money payment for which this rent was commuted at that time was twelve deniers tournois, which would make the value of a pound four sols tournois, no inconsiderable sum in those days.

_I’ chànte coume ùn orateur._--He sings like an orator. A loud voice is certainly desirable in one who attempts to _speak_ in public. Our countrymen seem to consider it equally necessary and admirable in a _singer_.

_Orguillaeux (orgueilleux) coume ùn pouâis (pou) sûs v’louss (velours)._--As proud as that insect which Shakespeare calls “a familiar beast to man” may be supposed to feel when it finds itself on velvet.

_Caûd (chaud) coume braïze._--As hot as embers, needs no explanation.

_Ch’est coume un bourdon dans une canne._--It is like a humble bee in a can--is said of a droning monotonous style of preaching or speaking.

_Ch’est coume les prières de Jacques Ozanne qui n’ont pas de fin._--It is like James Ozanne’s prayers which never come to an end. This is said of any matter which is prolonged to an unreasonable extent; but nothing seems now to be known of the individual whose lengthy supplications gave rise to the saying.

_T’es coume Jean Le Tocq._--You are like Jean Le Tocq. This is addressed to a man who is seen abroad at an earlier hour than usual, and contains an allusion to two lines in the old Guernsey ballad of the invasion of the island by Evan of Wales in 1373, where it is said:--

_“Jean Le Tocq sy se leva_ _Plus matin qu’a l’accoutumée.”_

Indeed this last line is generally added.

_Il a la conscience de la jument Rabey qui mangit s’en poulâin._--He has the conscience of Rabey’s mare, who ate her foal. Said of an utterly hard-hearted and unscrupulous man. The Rabeys are a well-known country family, and it is possible that this proverb refers to some domestic tragedy, the details of which have long been forgotten.

_Avoir le corset de Maître George._--To wear the corset of Maître George. An allusion is here meant to a certain George Fénien. The Féniens were a family who owned property in Fountain Street, and seem to have become extinct towards the middle of the eighteenth century. This expression is applied to an indolent man, so that the “Maître George Fénien”[258] here alluded to must have lived up to his name, Fénien--Fainéant--a sluggard. We have seen in some of the preceding proverbs and sayings, allusions to individuals and families. Here are two or three more of the same kind:--

_I’ fait de sen Quéripel._--Is untranslatable literally, but may be rendered “he acts like a Quéripel.” and is said of a man whose vanity leads him to give himself airs, and take too much upon himself. The name existed in Guernsey as early as the fourteenth century, at which time it was written _Carupel_, but there is not the slightest clue when or how the saying originated. It may possibly be a corruption of some proverbial expression current in Normandy.

_Il est dans les Arabies de Mons. Roland._--“He has got into Mr. Roland’s Arabias,” is a remark made when a preacher, a public speaker, or any one who sets up for a talker, has got beyond his depth, and is discoursing on a subject which he does not understand. The Rolands, now extinct, are believed to have been a Huguenot family that took refuge in Guernsey in the sixteenth century.[259] The Mons^{r}. Roland who figures in the saying is supposed to have been a schoolmaster.[260]

[Illustration: Old Guernsey House.]

_Ch’est prendre de Pierre Chyvret pour dounaïr à Monsieur Careye._--“It is taking from Pierre Chyvret to give to Mr. Carey,” is used in the sense of “sending coals to Newcastle,” or “taking from the poor to give to the rich;” but who the particular individuals were whose names figure in this saying it is impossible to say. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth a Mr. Nicholas Careye was farmer of most, if not all, the mills in Guernsey situated on the Crown domain, he being then Her Majesty’s Receiver. At a time when all persons residing on a manor were obliged to bring their corn to be ground at their Lord’s mill, under severe penalties, such a monopoly in the mills as Mr. Carey possessed, must have tended to make him a very wealthy man.[261] It is not unlikely that he, or one of his immediate descendants, who enjoyed the same privilege, may have been the person whose name became proverbial for riches. The name of Peter Chyvret occurs in another saying too coarse to be quoted, but which suggests the idea that he may have been an idiot, and, if so, probably living on charity. It is, however, worth noting that a certain Peter Chyvret was, about the beginning of the present century, in possession of property situated in the neighbourhood of one of the mills of which we have spoken. He is reported to have been one of those eccentric characters of whom it is difficult to say whether they have all their mental faculties--a mixture, in fact, of shrewdness and simplicity. As he was by no means in indigent circumstances it is scarcely probable that he can be the same man alluded to in this saying.

_Tenir à pìnche-beleïne._--Means to hold lightly, without a firm grasp. It is used in the following proverbial saying:--

_“A pìnche-beleïne--sû la haute épeine,_ _Si je m’déroque--je n’en dirai mot.”_

--Which may be freely translated:--“Holding on too lightly, if I fall from the tree I shall say nothing about it.” If I suffer from my own negligence I must not complain.

[257] EDITOR’S NOTE. The following short pedigree of the first members of the de Garis family in the island may prove interesting:--It is extracted from the proceedings of the law suit re the Fief Handois in 1497. See Additional MSS. British Museum, 30, 188.

+---------------------------------------------+ | | … DE GARIS = … PIERRE DE GARIS = LUCENTIA DE DINNO, Eldest son, | of Bayonne, | of Normandy. of Gascony. | Gascony Bailiff | | and | | Lieut.-Governor | | of Guernsey, | | Seigneur of | | Fief Handois, | | Jersey. Died | | before A.D. | | 1323. | +--+-------------------+ +--...---+--------...-----+ | | | | | Denis le = Bonita de Biscaya = Renaud Pierre John = Alianor William Marchant | Garis de Garis | Tanquis de de | de de | daughter daughter | of Garis. Garis | Chesney Garis. | and co- and co- | Jersey. Seigneur| daughter | heiress. heiress | of Fief| of Sir Wm. | Died before | Handois,| Chesney, | 1323, and her | Jersey. | and Joan | husband Denis | Jurat | de Gorges. | married | of R.C. | She married | secondly | Jersey, | second | Peronelle | in 1355.| Geoffrey | le Moigne. _|_ | Walsh. +-----+ +---------+ | | John Le Marchant = … Edmund de Garis Jurat R.C. 1350. | Seigneur of Fief Handois. Bailiff of | Jurat R.C. Jersey. Guernsey 1359-83.| O.S.P. Ante 1497. +--------+ | Denis le Marchant = Jeanette de Chesney, Jurat R. C. and | youngest daughter Lieut.-Bailiff. | of Sir William de | Chesney and | Joan de Gorges. | LE MARCHANT FAMILY.

In the “Extente” of 1331, Pierre and John de Garis held land in the parishes of St. Peter Port, St. Andrew’s, St. Peter’s-in-the-Wood, and St. Sampson’s. In the “Calendars of Patent Rolls” for the years 1328-36, we find Nicholaa, Abbess of the Holy Trinity, Caen, nominating Peter and William de Garis her Attorneys in the Channel Islands, and in 1332 a Commission was given to Robert de Norton, William de la Rue, and Peter de Garis to survey the King’s Castles and Mills in the islands of Jersey and Guernsey which are reported to be greatly in need of repair, and to certify by whose default, and by whom they fell into decay. In 1380, a William de Garis, described as being “de l’isle de Guerneseye,” sold to “Sire Pierre Payn” the Manor of Malorey in St. Laurent, Jersey, to which parish the Fief Handois also belonged.

[258] EDITOR’S NOTE.--A “George Fenien” was in existence at the end of the sixteenth century, and his daughter Collette Fenien, was married to William Brock, ancestor of the Brocks of Guernsey. William Brock died in 1582.

[259] EDITOR’S NOTE.--In the “Placita Coronæ” held in the reign of Edward III., William, son of Robert Roland, held land in the Vale parish. In a deed of 23rd of August, 1517, dealing with land in St. Sampson’s parish, south of the “Grand Pont” the “_Rue Roland_” is mentioned; in 1569, there was living in St. Sampson’s parish a Richard Roland and Collenette Le Retylley, his wife, and (2nd November, 1569) Thomas Roland and Jeanne Blondel, his wife, bought a house in St. Peter Port from Jean Le Montés; so the probabilities are that the Rolands, if they migrated from France, did so before the Huguenot persecutions, and had been domiciled in Guernsey long anterior to the sixteenth century.

[260] EDITOR’S NOTE.--Or he may have been the “Monsieur Jean Roland,” son of Thomas and Elizabeth Bailleul, who was Rector of S. Pierre-du-Bois, and imprisoned in the Tower of London in 1665, for his refusal to submit to the Act of Uniformity.

[261] EDITOR’S NOTE.--It was this Monsieur Careye, who in September, 1563, bought the Fief Blanchelande from Her Majesty’s Commissioners; he married Collette de la Marche and was buried 15th of July, 1593.

Proverbial Sayings.

We now come to a class of proverbial sayings which might almost claim an exclusive right to the title of “Folk-Lore,”--those relating to the weather and other natural phenomena; and which, being the result of long experience on the part of the people, are religiously believed in by them. Many of these sayings are common, in spirit if not in form, to the greater part of Europe; some of them are confined to certain districts; and, although a few may have a superstitious aspect, such as those which profess to predict what events will happen in the course of the year from an observation of the weather on a particular holy day, yet some of them may be worthy the notice of meteorologists, who have discovered that, in many cases, the probable character of the weather in a particular month may be guessed at by that which prevailed at an earlier season.

_Janvier a daeux bouniaux (deux bonnets), Février en a treis (trois)._--January wears two caps, February wears three. As a rule February is the coldest month in the year. In a curious old MS. of the sixteenth century, containing memoranda of household accounts, copies of wills, and various entries of more or less interest, written between the years 1505 and 1569 by various members of a family of the name of Girard, landed proprietors in the parish of Ste. Marie-du-Castel in Guernsey, we find the following weather prognostications for St. Vincent’s Day (January 22nd), and the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, (January 25th).

_“Prens garde au jour St. Vincent_ _Car sy se jour tu vois et sent_ _Que le soleil soiet cler et biau_ _Nous érons du vin plus que d’eau.”_

_“Sy le jour St. Paul le convers_ _Se trouve byaucob descouvert,_ _L’on aura pour celle sayson_ _Du bled et du foyn à foyson;_ _Et sy se jour fait vant sur terre;_ _Ce nous synyfye guerre;_ _S’yl pleut ou nège, sans fallir,_ _Le chier tans nous doet asalir;_ _Sy de nyelle faict, brumes ou brouillars,_ _Selon le dyt de nos vyellars,_ _Mortalitey nous est ouverte.”_

Similar sayings are to be found in Latin, English, German, Italian, and other languages.

February, as every one knows, is the shortest month in the year; but few know why. This is how it is accounted for by old people in Guernsey:--“_Février dit à Janvier:--‘Si j’étais à votre pièche (place) je f’rais gelaïr (geler) les pots sus le faeu (feu) et les p’tits éfàns (enfants) aux seins de leurs mères’--et pour son ìmpudence i’ fut raccourchi (raccourci) de daeux jours, et Janvier fut aloigni (alongé).‘_” February said to January:--If I were in your place I would cause the pots to freeze on the fire, and babes at their mothers’ breasts, and for his insolence he was shortened of two days, and January was lengthened.

The most intense cold in the year generally sets in with February; and this saying reminds me of what is told in Scotland, and in many parts of the north of England, of the _borrowing days_, the three last days of March (See Brand’s _Popular Antiquities_, Bohn’s edition, Vol. II., p. 41-44). It appears, however, according to this authority, that in the Highlands of Scotland the _borrowing days_ are the three first days of February, reckoned according to the old style, that is, the days between the eleventh and the fifteenth.

February 2nd, Candlemas Day. Fine weather on this day is supposed to prognosticate a return of cold. The following lines were communicated by a country gentleman, but they have not quite the same antique ring as those relating to St. Paul’s and St. Vincent’s Days, and may, possibly, be a more recent importation from France.

_“Selon les anciens se dit:_ _Si le soleil clairement luit_ _A’ la Chandeleur vous verrez_ _Qu’ encore un hiver vous aurez.”_

_Quànd Mars durerait chent àns l’hiver durerait autànt._--If March were to last for a hundred years, winter would last as long.

_Mars qui entre coume ùn agné (agneau) sortira coume ùn touaré (taureau)._--The Guernsey form of this saying substitutes a bull in the place of a lion.

_Mars a enviaï (envoyé) sa vieille trachier (chercher) des bûquettes (buchettes)._--When, after a spell of comparatively mild weather, March comes with blustering winds, breaking off the small dry branches from the trees, the country people say that he has sent out his old wife to look for sticks; and predict that, as he is laying in a store of fuel, the cold is likely to last.

_Pâques Martine--guerre, peste, ou famine._--Easter happening in March, forebodes war, pestilence, or famine.

_A Noué à ses perrons, à Pâques à ses tisons._--If at Christmas you can sit at your doorstep, at Easter you will be glad to sit by your fire.

_Avril le doux--quànd il s’y met le pière de tous._--Or, as the Norman antiquary, Pluquet, gives it:--“_Quand il se fâche, le pire de tous_.”--When the weather is bad in April, it is the worst of all the months.

_En Avril, ne quitte pas ùn fil._--In April leave not off a stitch of clothing--a piece of advice which is well warranted by the sudden and extreme changes in the temperature in this month. On the other side, this advice holds good a month later--“Till May be out cast not a clout.”

_Caud (chaud) Mai, gras chimequière (cimetière), fred (froid) Mai, granges pllaïnes (pleines)._--A warm May, a fat churchyard, a cold May, fat granaries.

_A’ la mié Août, l’hiver noue._--About mid-August there is usually a marked change in the weather, gales of wind and heavy rain generally occurring at this season, and any long continuance of settled fine weather, is scarcely to be hoped for. This has led to the remark that winter “_sets_” at this time; as the blossoms in Spring set for fruit.

_A’ la mi-S’tembre, les jours et les nits s’entre ressemblent._--In the middle of September, days and nights are alike.

_Six s’maïnes avant Noué, et six s’maïnes après, les nits sont les pûs longues, et les jours les pûs freds._--Six weeks before Christmas and six weeks after, the nights are the longest and the days the coldest. This saying is scarcely correct in Guernsey, as very cold weather about the end or the beginning of the year is rather the exception than the rule in this climate.

_Si le soleil liet à méjeur, le jour de Noué, il y aura bien des faeux l’annaïe ensuivant._--If the sun shines at noon on Christmas Day, there will be many fires lighted in the ensuing year.

_Aube gelaïe est biétôt lavaïe._--Hoar-frost is soon washed away, or, as another weather proverb says:--“_Après treis aubes gelaïes vient la pllie._”--After three hoar-frosts comes rain, a saying which experience amply bears out.

_Vent d’amont qui veur duraïr, au sér va se reposaïr._--An east wind that intends to last, goes to rest in the evening.

_Vent d’amont ôve (avec) pllie, ne vaut pas un fllie (patelle)._--An east wind with rain is not worth a limpet.

_Quand i’ plleut ôve vent d’amont, ch’est merveille si tout ne fond._--Rain from the east is rare; but when it does occur it is so heavy and continuous as to give rise to the saying that it is a wonder that everything does not melt.

_Cherne (cerne) à la lune, le vent, la pllie, ou la brune._--When there’s a circle round the moon, wind, rain, or fog, will follow soon.

_Cherne de llien (loin), tourmente de près; cherne de près, tourmente de llien._--If the halo round the moon is large and at a distance, it denotes that a storm is at hand, if, on the contrary, it is small and near the moon, the storm will not arrive for some time.

_Cherne à la lune, jamais n’a fait amenaïr mât d’hune._--A circle round the moon has never caused top-mast to be struck. It is difficult to reconcile this saying with the preceding, unless by supposing that sailors are so convinced that a circle round the moon portends bad weather that they are careful to shorten sail before the gale comes on.

_Cherne au soleil i’ ne fera pas demain bel._--A solar halo means bad weather to-morrow.

_Si le soleil est rouage (rouge) au sèr (soir),_ _Ch’est pour biau temps aver (avoir),_ _S’il est rouage au matin,_ _Ch’est la mare au chemin._

If the sun sets red, it is a sign of fine weather, but when he rises red, you may expect to see pools of water on the road.

_Rouage ser, gris matin, ch’est la jouaie (joie) du pélerin._--A red evening and a grey morning are the pilgrim’s joy, but this saying is sometimes varied to:--

_Rouage sèr, bllanc matin, ch’est la journaïe du pélerin._--A red evening and a white morning is the day for the pilgrim.

_En Avril, le coucou crie, s’il est en vie._--In April, the cuckoo sings, if he is alive. The cuckoo generally arrives in Guernsey about the 15th of April.

_Le cou-cou s’en va en Août,_ _L’épi d’orge li pique la gorge._

_The cuckoo departs in August,_ _The barley-spike pricks his throat._

Agricultural Sayings.

It is not easy to draw a clear line between those sayings which have reference to the weather, and those which relate to agricultural pursuits and experience; but the following appear to fall more naturally under the latter head:--

_Quànd i’ plleut ôve vent d’aval,_ _Nourrit l’houme et sen cheval;_ _Quànd i’ plleut ôve vent d’amont,_ _Ch’est merveille si tout ne fond._

When it rains with a westerly wind it feeds man and beast; but when it rains with an east wind, it is a marvel if everything does not melt.

_L’arc d’alliance du soir, bel à voir,_ _L’arc d’alliance du matin, fait la mare à chemin._

Rainbow in the evening, fair to see; rainbow in the morning, there will be pools on the roads.

_Si tu vois le soleil le jour de la Chandeleur, sauve le foin, car tu en auras besoin._--If you see the sun on Candlemas Day, save your hay for you will want it.

_A’ la Paintecoûte, les grouaïsiaux se goûtent._--Green gooseberries are in perfection at Whitsuntide.

_De la St. Michel à Noué (Noel) une pllante ne sait pas chu (ce) que nou (on) li fait._--From Michaelmas to Christmas a plant does not know what you do to it.

_De la Toussaint à Noué un arbre ne sait pas chu que non li fait._--From All Saints’ Day to Christmas a tree knows not what is done to it. The autumnal quarter is supposed to be the best for transplanting trees or shrubs, as at that time the vigorous growth that had been going on in spring and summer has ceased, and there is less danger of their suffering from the change.

_Noué n’est pas Noué sàns pâcrolle (paquerette primevère)._--Christmas is not Christmas unless there be primroses.

_Noué est pûtôt Noué, sans pâcrolle, que sans agné (agneau)._--A Christmas without primroses is more rare than a Christmas without lambs. Another version is:--

_Nou ne vit jamais Noué, sans pâcrolle ou p’tit agné._--This saying, as well as the preceding, seems to refer particularly to the occurrence of that harbinger of spring, the primrose, at this season. With the exception occasionally of a few very cold days about the beginning of November, the weather in Guernsey up to Christmas, and frequently far into January, is remarkably mild; vegetation is scarcely checked, and many summer flowers continue to bloom freely up to this time. It is a well-known fact that the primrose, like many other plants and most bulbs, has its period of repose during the hot and dry weather of summer, the flowering ceasing about the end of May, and the leaves withering away. In the autumn there is a fresh growth of leaves, and the flower buds, which had been already formed towards the end of spring, but had been prevented by the drought from expanding, are ready to burst into bloom with the mild days that generally usher in Christmas, the earliest blossoms being invariably found on the north sides of the hedges, where the latest flowers of the preceding summer lingered, the plants with a south aspect having exhausted their bloom in the hot weather.

_A flleur de Mars--ni pouque (poche) ni sac;_ _A flleur d’Avril--pouque et baril;_ _A flleur de Mai--barrique et touné (tonneau)._

Blossom in March requires neither bag nor sack; Blossom in April fills bag and barrel; Blossom in May fills hogshead and tun.

This saying refers to the apple crop, and the quantity of cider that may be expected, judging from the month in which the trees come into bloom.

_Sème tes concombres en Mars,_ _Tu n’ airas qu’ faire de pouque ni de sac;_ _Sème-les en Avril, tu en airas ùn petit;_ _Mé, j’ les semerai en Mai;_ _Et j’en airai pûs que té (toi)._

Sow your cucumbers in March, you will want neither bag nor sack; sow them in April, you will have a few; I will sow mine in May, and I shall have more than you.

_Pouit (point) de vraic, pouit de haugard._--No seaweed, no corn ricks. The sea-weed, _vraic_ or _varech_, which grows in such abundance on all the rocks round the islands, is of the utmost importance to the farmer. It is almost the only dressing used for the land, stable manure being scarce and expensive. Hence the saying quoted above; for without sufficient manure the crops are sure to fall short. The _haugard_, or, more correctly, _haut gard_, (high yard) is the enclosure near a homestead on which the ricks are erected.

_Débet (dégel) de pllie, ne vaut pas une fllie (patille); débet de sec, vaut demi-fumaeure (fumier)._--A thaw with rain is not worth a limpet; a thaw with dry weather is worth half a load of manure.

_Un essaim en Mai--vaut une vaque (vache) à lait._--A swarm of bees in May is worth a milch cow.

_Où est qu’ll y a un cardon (chardon) ch’est du pain; où est qu’ill y a du laitron, ch’est la faim._--Where thistles grow there will be bread, where the sow-thistle grows it is famine. The latter is mostly found in very poor land.

_Il vaut mûx pour ùn houme d’aver un percheux (paresseux) dans son ménage qu’un frêne sur s’n hêritage._--It is better for a man to have a lazy fellow in his service than an ash-tree on his estate. The shade of the ash is believed to be destructive of all vegetation over which it extends; and it is this belief that has in all probability given rise to this saying. This proverb sometimes takes the following form:--

_Bâtard dans sen lignage_ _Vaut mûx qu’un frène sur s’n héritage._

Piscatory and Maritime Sayings.

The following sayings may be termed piscatory and maritime.

_A quànd le bœuf est las, le bar est gras._--When the ox is weary, that is, when ploughing has come to an end for the season, the bass is in good condition. This fish is decidedly best in summer.

_A quànd l’orge épicotte, le vrac est bouan sous la roque._--When the barley comes into ear, the wrasse or rock-fish, is at its best.

_L’âne de Balaam a pâlaï (parlé) j’airon du macré (maquereau)._--Balaam’s ass has spoken, we shall soon have mackerel. The mackerel, it is almost needless to say, is a migratory fish, arriving on our coasts in the spring, and remaining with us till late in the summer. Formerly the reading of the First Lesson at Evensong on the first Sunday after Easter, in which the story of Balaam and his ass is told, was considered a sure indication that the welcome shoals would soon make their appearance. The Cornish fishermen have the same saying.

Old fishermen pay great attention to the direction of the wind at sunset on old Michaelmas Day (10th October), for they firmly believe that from whatever point it blows at that time, the prevailing winds for two-thirds of the ensuing twelve months will be from that quarter.

_Grànd maïr (mer) ou morte iaue (eau),_ _La lune au sud, il est basse iaue._

Whether it be spring tides or neap tides, when the moon is due south it will be low water.

EDITOR’S NOTE.--Another version: “Vive iaue ou morte iaue, La lune au sud, il est basse iaue.”--_From John de Garis, Esq._

Various Sayings.

A few sayings omitted may find a place here:--

_Alle ira sû le coquet de l’Eglise ramendaïr (racommoder) les braies (culottes) des viers garçons._--She will get a seat on the weather-cock of the church and mend old bachelor’s breeches, is said of old maids, and is equivalent to the English saying, “She will lead apes in hell.”

_Ch’est une autre pâre (paire) de cauches (bas, chausses)._--That’s another pair of stockings, is used in the sense of “That’s quite another affair.”

_A quànd les filles suffllent (sifflent) le guiablle (diable) s’éhuque._--When girls whistle the devil laughs outright. Whistling is not generally reckoned among feminine accomplishments, and by many would certainly be considered as a symptom of what, in the present day, is termed “fastness” in the fair sex.

According to the Northamptonshire proverb:--

“A whistling woman and crowing hen, Are neither fit for God nor men.”

In Normandy they say:--“Une poule qui chante le coquet, et une fille qui siffle, portent malheur dans la maison.”[262]

And in Cornwall:--“A whistling woman and a crowing hen, are the two unluckiest things under the sun.”

_Trachier (chercher) la Ville par Torteval._--To seek for the Town by way of Torteval, is said of one who goes a round-about way to work. The rural parish of Torteval, situated at the south-west corner of Guernsey, is, of all the parishes in the island, the one furthest removed from the town of St. Peter Port. Compare the French “Chercher midi à quatorze heures.”

_Il ôt (ouit, entend) fin coume une iragne (araignée)._--His sense of hearing is as quick as that of a spider. Whether the abrupt retreat of the common wall-spider into the inner recesses of its web, at the approach of anything that alarms it, is to be attributed to the sense of hearing, sight, or feeling, would be difficult to determine. The fact, however, has been noticed, and has given rise to this saying.

_Entre le bec et le morcé,_ _Ill y a souvent du destorbier._

T’wixt cup and lip--there’s many a slip.

_Qui épouse Jerriais ou Jerriaise,_ _Jamais ne vivra à s’n aise._

In all countries and in all ages jealousies and dislikes have existed between neighbouring communities. The inhabitants in Guernsey and Jersey are not exempt from these feelings, which find vent in malicious tales told of each other. The saying quoted above is common in Guernsey; probably its counterpart exists in Jersey, substituting “Guernesiais” for “Jerriais.” It by no means follows, however, that the want of comfort in these mixed marriages may not be quite as attributable to the one side as the other.

_Il y a terjoûs quiqu’ùn qui a sa qu’minse à sequier._--There is always some one wanting to dry his shirt. The weather never suits everybody’s wants.

_I’ n’a que vie d’alàngouraï (languissant)._--Equal to the English saying “A creaking door hangs longest.”

_Si un houme n’a pas le sens de pâlaïr (parler) il est bien sâge s’il a le sens de se taire._--A man who has not the sense to speak is still a wise man if he has the sense to hold his tongue.

_I’ faut savèr ouïr, véer, et se taire._--One should know how to hear, see, and be silent.

_La s’maïne qui vient._--is the equivalent of the English “To-morrow come-never.”

_Chu qu’ nou n’a jamais veu, et jamais ne verra, Ch’est le nic d’une souaris dans l’oreille d’un cat._--In the _Folk-Lore Record_, Vol. III., Part I., p. 76, we find the Breton equivalent of this saying:--“One thing you have never seen, a mouse’s nest in a cat’s ear.” We are not told, however, whether the proverb is found in the French patois of Upper Brittany, or in the Celtic dialect still spoken in Lower Brittany--la Bretagne bretonnante.

_I’ va d’vànt ses bêtes_, or _I’s’met d’vànt ses bêtes_.--He is going before his team, is said of a prodigal, one who is out-running his income.

_Ch’est une pouquie (pochée) de puches (puces)_ or _de souaris_.--Is a sackful of fleas, or of mice, is said of a person who is very lively and always on the move.

_Il n’est si bouane (bonne) bête qui n’ait quiqu’ (quelque) ohi._--There is no beast so good but that it has some fault or vice. It is worthy of notice that the word “_ohi_” is gone entirely out of use except in this proverb.

_I’ vit d’amour et de belles chansons--coum’ les alouettes de roques (pierres, cailloux)._--The first part of this saying--He lives on love and fine songs--is frequently used alone, but it is often capped by the concluding words, “As larks do on stones,” meaning that something more nourishing is needed to keep body and soul together.

“_Un mouisson (oisseau) dans la main vaut mûx que daeux qui volent._” “_Un mouisson à la main en vaut daeux sur la branque (branche.)_” “_Un pourché (pourceau) dans sen parc en vaut daeux d’ par les rues._” All these are equivalent to the English proverb: “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” but the last must have originated in days long gone by, when swine were allowed to roam at their will about the streets.

_I’ n’ y a pas de cousins à Terre-Neuve._--There are no cousins at Newfoundland. This somewhat selfish proverb, indicating that where one’s own interest is at stake the ties of consanguinity go for little, although occasionally heard in Guernsey, originated most probably either in Jersey or St. Malo, both which ports are largely engaged in the cod fisheries on the banks of Newfoundland. Jersey, indeed, owes her commercial prosperity almost entirely to this branch of industry, to which, it is said, the attention of the inhabitants was directed by Sir Walter Raleigh during the time that he held the office of Governor of the island. During the Middle Ages the fisheries in the Channel Islands were very productive, and a source of considerable revenue to the Crown, but the discovery of Newfoundland, and the superior quality of the codfish caught on its shores, drove the salted conger and mackerel of the island out of the market.

_Le cul d’un sac et la langue d’une femme gagnent terjoûs._--In former days, when horses were more employed in carrying loads than they are at the present time when carts are in universal use, it was observed that a sack thrown across the back of a horse had a tendency to slip down gradually in the direction opposite to its mouth. This explains the first part of the proverb; the second part is equivalent to the saying that a woman will always have the last word and gain her end at last.

_Nou veit bien pûs de meïnes de gâche crue que de biaux musiaux._--One sees many more pasty, doughy looking faces than pretty ones. Said in very cold weather.

_Ch’n’est que faeu et fllâmme._--It is nothing but fire and flame, said of a boaster, and also of a passionate man, whose temper quickly rises, and as quickly dies down.

_Pêle-mêle gabouaré._--Pell-mell, as merry-makers tumble out of a village inn. This word “gabouaré,” derived from the Bas Breton “_gaborel_,” is only found in this phrase.

_Il est coume le pourché du negre, petit et vier._--He is small and old, like the negro’s pig.

_Cope le cô_, _i.e._, “coupe le cou,” is a common asseveration among children. They pronounce the words, drawing their right hand at the same time towards their throat, as if cutting it, and the action is meant to imply that they wish their throats may be cut if they do not tell the truth, or perform what they have promised.

_Vaque (vache) d’un bouan égrùn (croissance)._--A cow that does credit to her food, and that feeds close. _Etre d’un bouan égrùn_--is also said of children who look fat and healthy.

In conclusion, we will give a story which is often told in the country, as a warning to those who are apt to laugh at fools. A half-witted fellow, who had gone to the mill with his corn, was asked by the miller, who wanted to laugh at him:--“John, people say that you are a fool and know nothing. Now, tell me what you know and what you don’t know?” “Well!” answered John, “I know this, that millers have fine horses.” “That’s what you know,” said the miller. “Now tell me what you don’t know.” “I don’t know on whose corn they are fattened,” said John.

--_From Denys Corbet._

[262] EDITOR’S NOTE.--In _Traditions et Superstitions de la Haute Bretagne_, Tome II., p. 29., are various sayings to the same effect, such as:--

“Fille siffler, Poule chanter, Et coq qui pond, Trois diables dans la maison.”

[Illustration: Gibbet from which pirates were suspended in the Island of Herm, now in possession of H.S.H. Prince Blücher von Wahlstatt, who kindly allowed it to be photographed for reproduction in this book.]

EDITOR’S NOTES.

The following are a few local proverbs and sayings which I have met with at different times, and which I do not find included in Sir Edgar MacCulloch’s collection.

_Il est si avare, il ne dounera pouit daeux p’tits œufs pour un gros._--He is such a miser that he would not give two little eggs for one big one.

_Coume St. Paterne, tu feras pâlir le Diable._--Like St. Paterne, you would turn the Devil pale, said of a man whom nothing will daunt. St. Paterne was one of our local saints, who was specially noted for the conversion of the inhabitants of the Forest of Scissy--the submerged forest which lies off our western coasts. He was induced to do so by a pious Seigneur of the Forest, and began his work there by going into a cavern where the idolaters were celebrating a great feast presided over by the Devil himself. Armed only with his pilgrim’s staff he routed them all, Satan included. He was specially beloved by birds, who followed him wherever he went. He was made Bishop of Avranches, and died in the year A.D. 495.

_La s’maïne de treis (trois) Jeudis ou il n’ y a pas de Vendredi._--The week of three Thursdays and no Friday. This is used when talking of an event which will never come off. Then they say “Ca, se fera, etc.”

_Haut coumme un béguin._--As high as a beacon. The Guernsey “béguins” were tall stacks of furze placed on prominent points so that they could be lit in case of an alarm.

_Ecoute-paret (paroi) jamais n’ot dret._--He who listens through

## partitions never hears correctly.

_Faire pertus (trou) sous l’iaue._--To make a hole in the water, said of a man who is ruining himself.

_I’ vaut mûx pillaïr (plier) qu’ rompre._--It is better to bend than break.

_Il ne faut pas queruaïr trop près des fossaïs._--One should not plough too close to the hedges. Said of people who have no tact and say the wrong things at the wrong times--“Dancing on the edge of precipices.”

_Maujeu au naïx, signe d’être guervaï, ou baîsi d’un fou._--Tickling in the nose shows that you will either be worried or kissed by a fool!

_Daeux petites paûretaïs en font une grande._--Two small paupers make one big one; said when two impecunious people marry each other.

WEATHER PROVERBS, ETC.

_Quànd tu veis la fieille (feuille) à l’orme_ _Prends ta pouque et sème ton orge._

When you see the leaf on the elm Take thy bag and sow thy barley.

_Quand il fait biau, prend ton manteau,_ _Quand il pleut fais coume tu veus._

When it is fine take your cloak, When it rains do as you like.

_Vent perdu, se trouve au sud._

A lost wind is found in the south.

(This is a Sark proverb, and was found by the Rev. G. E. Lee in the Rev. Elie Brevint’s MSS).

_Hardi des hâgues sus l’s épines_ _D’un rude hiver ch’est le signe._

Many hips and haws on the trees, Is the sign of a severe winter.

_Le dix de Mai des sardes au Gaufricher._

On the 10th of May, sardans (a kind of fish) are to be found at Le Gaufricher--a rock north of Fermain.

_La maïr qui roule au Tas de Peis_ _Ch’est coumme nous verrait de l’iaue quée._

The sea that rolls at the Tas de Pois (the rocks at the end of St. Martin’s Point) look to the beholder like falling rain.

_“La lune levante_ _La maïr battante.”_

At moon rise It is high tide.

_“Fin nord et epais sud_ _Ne s’entrefont jamais d’abus_ _Fin sud et epais nord,_ _Ne sont jamais d’accord.”_

A fine north and a lowering south, have no occasion to quarrel, but a fine south and lowering north, will never agree.--_The two last “dictons” are from John de Garis, Esq._

## Part III.

Editor’s Appendix.

“Dear Countrymen, whate’er is left to us Of ancient heritage-- Of manners, speech, of humours, polity, The limited horizon of our stage-- Of love, hope, fear, All this I fain would fix upon the page: That so the coming age, Lost in the Empire’s mass, Yet haply longing for their fathers, here May see, as in a glass, What they held dear-- May say, “’Twas thus and thus They lived;” and as the time-flood onward rolls, Secure an anchor for their Celtic souls.”

(Preface to _The Doctor and other Poems_, by the Rev. T. E. Brown).

## CHAPTER XVIII.

Guernsey Songs and Ballads.

“Will no one tell me what she sings? Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago.”

--_Wordsworth._

“Fère les lais, por remembrance.”

--_Marie of France._

I have added this chapter to Sir Edgar MacCulloch’s book, as I thought it a good opportunity of preserving a few of the old ballads and songs which, for generations, amused and interested our forefathers, and which now, alas, are all too surely going or gone from among us,--swept away by the irrepressible tide of vulgarity and so-called “Progress,” by which everything of ours that was beautiful, picturesque, or individual, has been destroyed. As descendants of the Celtic trouvères, menestriers, and jongleurs, as well as of the Norse Skalds, the bards from whose early songs and chants, the literature of Europe has sprung, we, Normans, should specially treasure the old poems which have been handed down for so many successive generations, and which, in the rapid extinction of the old language in which Wace, Taillefer, Walter Map, and Chrestien de Troyes sang, are doomed to oblivion.

In most places the old ballads can be divided into two classes--the Religious and the Secular. The first of these classes, except in the form of the metrical version of the Psalms by Ronsard, does not seem to have existed over here. I can find no trace of any Noëls, or of any Easter songs. The Secular songs may be divided into the Historical and the Social.

The Historical deserve precedence. The _Ballade des Aragousais_ of which a translation has already been given, and of which I append the original, is by far the oldest and most interesting. Then comes a ballad descriptive of the Destruction of the Spanish Armada in 1588, which I found in a manuscript book compiled by a Job Mauger in 1722. In it he has copied the _Dedicace des Eglises_, and such poems which apparently were current in his day, and which he deemed worthy of preservation. Of his collection this is the most distinctive, and I have included it in this chapter, although it is evidently defective in parts, as these old ballads, handed down orally from generation to generation, are so apt to be. The _Complaint of the dispossessed Roman Catholic Clergy_, written in March, 1552, and copied into the Registers of St. Saviour’s parish in 1696 by Henry Blondel, is already in print, being included in Gustave Dupont’s _Histoire du Cotentin et de ses Iles_, Tome III., p. 311-313.

Job Mauger’s MSS. also comprise a long and monotonous ballad of twenty verses describing the destruction by lightning of the Tower of Castle Cornet in 1688, and various poems, conspicuous more by the loyalty of their sentiments than by the merits of their versification, on contemporary events in England, such as--“La mort du Roy Guillaume III.,” written in 1702; “Cantique Spirituel à la mémoire de la Royne Marie IIme., et sur l’oiseau qu’on voit sur son Mausolée;” “Sur la mort de son Altesse Royale Guillaume, Duc de Glocestre, decedé au Château de Windsor le 30me Juillet, 1700;” and “Vive le Roy George,” written in 1721. He also copies a “Chanson Nouvelle de l’Esclavage de Barbarie,” doggerel verses “composée par dix pauvres hommes, esclaves en Barbarie, où ils sont,” viz.: “Edouard Falla, Edouard Mauger, Phelipe le Marquand, Richard Viel, et ses camarades, Pierre le Gros et Jean Aspuine,” written in the reign of William III.

In the year 1736 the bells of the church of S. Peter Port, being no longer fit for service, were taken down for the purpose of being melted and re-cast. This circumstance gave rise to a piece of poetry composed by the Rev. Elie Dufresne, Rector of the Town parish, of which many manuscript copies are in existence.

But by far the most popular and widely known of all our local ballads is “Les vers de Catherine Deslandes,” by an unknown author, descriptive of the trial and execution for infanticide, of an unhappy woman called Catherine Deslandes in 1748. These verses have been repeatedly copied and printed, and are to be found in almost every old farm-house.

The Secular ballads were undoubtedly all, or nearly all, importations from the mainland. Of these I have made a selection, and have striven to record those which do not appear to have been already printed, or which, like “La Claire Fontaine,” vary considerably from the continental models. Thus “Malbrouck,” which is one of the most widely known of all our old ballads, appears in every French “Recueil de Chansons,” and the verses of “Le Juif Errant” and “Geneviève de Brabant” of which copies are also found in all our old farm houses, have also been repeatedly printed on the Continent, so are not included here.

YVON DE GALLES.

“Surprise de l’Ile de Guernesey l’an 1370, sous le Règne d’Edouard III., Roy d’Angleterre, et de Charles V., Roy de France.”

NOTE.

This poem is copied from a version compiled by Mr. Métivier, and said by him to be the revised text of seven mutilated manuscript copies. I have also included most of his notes.

“Or, grands et petits entendez Lai[263] d’allure,[264] fort’ment rimée,[265] Sur nombre de gent ramassée, Qui va sillant[266] la mer salée, Du Roy de France la mesgnée,[267] Par Yvon de Galles guidée, Si mauvaisement mis à mort.[268]

Par un Mardy s’est comparée La gendarmerie et l’armée, Faite de grands Aragousais[269] Gens enragés à l’abordée. Dans le Vazon fut addressée Cette pilleuse[270] marinée Pensant nous mettre tous à mort.

Un Jean L’Estocq si se leva, Plus matin qu’à l’accoûtumée; Et à sa bergerie alla, Sur l’ajournant[271] à la brunée. Telle compagnie a trouvée Sur le grand Marais arrêtée, Ce qui grandement l’étonna.

Vit un cheval sur son chemin, Faisant marche de haquenée,[272] Qui, pour vray, étoit un guildin,[273] Qui lors échappoit de l’armée. Toute l’isle en a chevauchée, Criant à la désespérée, Sus! aux armes, en un moment!”

“Et vous trouvez sur les Vazons![274] L’armée est dessus arrêtée; Diligentez-vous, bons garçons, Ou toute la terre est gâtée! Mettez tout au fil de l’épée, Hasardez-vous, à bonne heurée, Ou vous mourrez griève mort!”

Yvon de Galles, vrai guerrier, Était conducteur de la guerre, Homme grand’ment adventurier, Dessus une terre étrangière, Ne se donnant garde en arrière, Il reçut la rouge jarr’tière Qui n’étoit ni soye, ni velours.

C’est qu’il fut frappé d’un garçon D’une alebarde[275] meurtrière, Il se nommoit Richard Simon Sur le moulin, en la Carrière, Tant qu’il eut la cuisse hachée Aussi la main dextre tranchée Par ce glorieux compagnon.

Sur le mont de St. Pierre Port Fut la dure guerre livrée; Cinq cents et un fur’ mis à mort, Tant de l’isle[276] que de l’armée,[277] C’étoit pitié, cette journée D’ouïr les pleurs de l’assemblée Des dames de St. Pierre Port.

Thoumin le Lorreur,[278] tout le jor Fut, de vrai, notre capitaine; Rouf Hollande[279] fut le plus fort, Il eut l’honneur de la quintaine,[280] Sa vie, hélas! fut hasardée, Car, sa jambe étant fracassée, Force lui fut de souffrir mort.

Frappant à travers et à tors, Le sang courait dans les vallées, On marchait dessus les corps morts Qui chéaient[281] au fil des épées. Une meurtrière[282] fut lancée, Qui, à grand’ force débandée, Aux Aragousais fit grand tort.

Quatre-vingt bons marchands anglais Arrivèrent sur l’avesprée;[283] A notre secours accouraient, Mais l’armée étant fort lassée, Leva le siège, tout de voir,[284] Ne sachant quel remède avoir, Sinon crier à Dieu mercy.

Furent contraints de s’enfuir Prenant leur chemin gaburon,[285] Par les Bordages sont allés, Pour passer dedans ils se rue’; Mais les Anglais sans retenue, Remplissent de corps morts la rue, Sur cette troupe de bedots.[286]

Par force espreindrent les châtiaus,[287] La mer étant fort retirée, On les tuait à grands monceaux, Taillant tout au fil de l’épée; La mer étoit ensanglantée De cette troupe ainsi navrée, De lez la chair et les corps morts.

Ces navires et ces bateaux Ceignirent l’isle par derrière; Bons paysans leur firent grands tosts,[288] Vers le château de la Corbière,[289] Vindrent par le Bec-à-la-Chièvre,[290] Pour à l’armée faire estère,[291] Avec le reste des lourdauds.

Rembarquèrent leurs matelots,[292] Puis soudain mirent à la vèle, Tous marris comme lionceaux D’avoir perdu telle bredelle.[293] Le général[294] fort ce repelle,[295] Commandant de remettre à terre Dans le havre de St. Samson.

À l’Abbé St. Michel s’en vont, Dont Brecard étoit commissaire; Il les reçut, à grand cœur-jouaie Donnant présents et fort grand chère Donnant or à la gente amée,[296] Qui était dame dans l’armée Nommée Princesse Alinor.

Car Yvon l’avoit épousée En France au pays de Gravelle, Dont il fut riche à grands monceis[297] Des biens de la grand’ mariée. L’abbé fit grand joie à l’armée D’or et d’argent et de monnoye Qu’il leur donna bien largement.

Yvon, l’ennemy, s’en alla Sur une montagne voisine Du pauvre Château St. Michel, Là où Yvon faisait ses mines.[298] Frère Brecart,[299] par courtoisie S’adresse au château par envie De faire crôitre ses trésors.

Mais Aymon[300] Rose, retranché Au puissant Chasteau de l’Archange Dit qu’il serait avant tranché. Que de se rendre à gent estrange; Mais si ses gens se veulent rendre A Brecart, pour leur terre vendre, Par compos,[301] il estoit d’accord.

Le pauvre peuple se rendit A cet Abbé pour leur grand perte Qu’il avoit pour eux accordé Aux ennemis par ses finesses Dont assoujettirent leurs terres La plupart à payer deux gerbes Nommez aujourd’hui les champarts.[302]

Quand Yvon fut bien soudoyé S’est rembarqué dans ses navires Dans le Coquet s’en est allé Se refournir de nouveaux vivres, En passant par devant Belle Isle Mit le feu dans trente navires N’ayant que les garçons à bord.

Le vent du sud étant venu Sillant la côte de Bretagne Un navire Anglois est venu Dont ils eurrent bien de la hoigne[303] Saillit soixante hommes ensemble À bord Yvon, sans plus attendre Qui les lièrent tous à bord.

Puis violèrent Alinor, En la présence de son homme Lui étant lié au grand mât Les amenèrent à Hantonne[304] Yvon étant un mauvais homme Eut sur sa tête une couronne Savoir ung mourion tout chaud.

Puis pendirent toutes ces gens Portez à chartez[305] couple à couple Et Alinor eut un présent Pour gueuser une belle poche Et avec peines et travaux Cherchant son pain de porte en porte Après plaisir eurent grands maux.

Les dix-neuf autres vaisseaux Voulez-vous ouïyr leur destinée Ils se dissout de grands châteaux De tourments bien agittée Or voilà donc leur destinée C’est qu’ils burent la mer salée Brisant dessus les Hanouets.

Au matin coume des porceaux Estoient au plein cette journée Où ils avaient fait leurs grands maux En Guernesey la bienheureuse Ils estoient là en grands monceaux Dessus les sablons de Rocquaine Après plaisir eurent grands maux.

FIN.

[263] _Lai_--Chant, mélodie, complainte.

[264] _Allure_--pas continu, mesuré.

[265] _Fort’ment rimée_--dont la rime est riche, roulante.

[266] _Sillant_ v. fr.: fendant, coupant.

[267] _Mesgnée_--guern’ _mégnie_,--maisonnée, troupe.

[268] _Mis à mort_--assassiné par le traître gallois John Lambe, soudoyé par Richard II.

[269] _Aragousais_--Chez les Gascons, nos compatriotes alors, _Aragous_, espagnol. L’Aragon était le royaume principal.

[270] _Pilleuse_--pirates.

[271] _Ajournant_--v. fr. ajornant, faire _jor_ ou jour.

[272] _Haquenée_--cheval qui va l’amble, hobin.

[273] _Guildin_--Anglais _gelding_.

[274] Les Vazons--Marais, tourbières, aujourd’hui Vazon. Il y avait le Vazon d’Albecq et le Vazon du Marais.

[275] _Alebarde_--sans aspiration, comme l’Ital: _alabarda_.

[276] _L’isle_--les habitants de l’île.

[277] _L’armée_--la flotte étrangère.

[278] _Le Lorreur_--surnom d’une famille câtelaine dont les traces se retrouvent au commencement du dix-septième siècle. _Le lourreur_ était un joueur de cornemuse, Normand _lourre_, Danois _luur_. C’est tout un alors pour nous autres Anglais, que _Thoumin le Lorreur_, et “Tommy the Piper.”

The first mention of a “Le Lorreur” in the Channel Islands I have found, occurs in the Calendar of Patent Rolls for 1316, where Philip L’Evesque, Bailiff of Jersey, witnesses (June 25th, 1311) a demise by Macie Le Lorreur, clerk, to Richard le Fessu, his brother, Viscount of Jersie, of the escheat of Pierres du Mouster, for twelve cabots of wheat rent yearly, for three virgates of land in the parish of Grouville. The Richard le Fessu mentioned above was also known as Richard _de Jersey_, he married Elizabeth de Burgo, described as the King’s kinswoman, and in 1317 the King gave, as a grant for life, to “John de Jereseye” his son, the Viscounty of Jersey, which his father had held during his life-time.

[279] _Rouf Hollande_--On August 26th 1338, a warrant was issued against a _Richard de Holand_, who had absconded with £40 delivered to John Godefelawe of Southampton, by John de Harleston, for payment of the wages of the garrison of Jersey. (Calendar of Patent Rolls).

[280] _Quintaine_--espèce de tournoi.

[281] _Chéaient_--tombaient guern: et norm: queyaient.

[282] _Meurtrière_--Catapulte, machine qui lançait des pierres et des dards.

[283] _Avesprées_--Commencement du soir.

[284] _Voir_--Vrai.

[285] _Gaburon_--Ce serait pêle-mêle, a la manière de goujats, des manants. Telle serait, osons le croire, l’origine du guernesiais “_pêle-mêle gabouaret_.”

[286] _Bedots_--étrangers, trompeurs. L’acceptation française de _bedos_, selon Roquefort, était autrefois “forain.”

[287] _Espreindrent_--serrèrent, assaillirent. Selon les annales du temps, le château ne fut pas pris.

[288] _Tosts_, pour _tostes_, soufflets, “good thrashings.”

[289] _La Corbière_--The point underneath “Village de Putron,” just north of Fermain Point, is called “La Corbière,” but this line probably refers to the Vale Castle, in the parish of St. Michel de l’Archange du Valle.

[290] _Bec-à-la chièvre_--Just underneath Fort George, the southern boundary of Petit Fort Bay.

[291] _Estère_--passage.

[292] _Matelots_--camarades, guern: _matnots_, mot franc-tudesque. Ici ce n’est pas un marinier exclusivement, c’est un _mess-mate_.

[293] _Bredelle_--morceau.

[294] _Général_--l’Amiral, celui qui commande la générale, angl: _flag-ship_.

[295] _Repelle_--rejette, oppose.

[296] _Gente amée_--gentille amie.

[297] _Monceis_--monceaux.

[298] _Mines_--Semblant de vouloir assaillir le Château (de Néel de St. Sauveur, aujourd’hui Château des Marais ou Ivy Castle).

[299] _Brecart_--The Brecarts, Bregearts, or Briards, were a comparatively influential family in the parishes of the Vale and St. Sampson’s up to the sixteenth century; they then bought land in the town, in the district of Vauvert, and became known as “Brégart alias Vauvert,” and finally as “Vauvert,” _pur et simple_, they seem to have become extinct in the eighteenth century.

[300] _Aymon Rose_--“Edmund de Ros ou Rous” était d’origine Normande.

“It appears that Edmund Rose, who defended Castle Cornet on this occasion was only Lieut.-Governor, as, in the previous year, Walter Huwet appears as governor of all the islands. There is a letter from the King to Edmund Rose, dated the 14th of August, 1372, as Constable of the Castle of Gorey in Jersey; so that within two months after Yvon had raised this siege of Castle Cornet, he, Edmund Rose, must have been sent to that of Gorey.”--(_Some Remarks on the Constitution of Guernsey_, by T. F. de H., p. 119.)

_Champarts_--The “Camparts”--or the eleventh part of the grain grown upon the land of the fief, is described by Warburton thus:--“The first dukes of Normandy granted several parcels of land in the island, to such as had served them in their wars, and granted likewise a very considerable part to some religious houses. These, whether soldiers or churchmen, not being themselves skilled in agriculture, let out these lands to tenants under them, reserving such rents and services as they thought most convenient; such was the “Campart,” and such were the “chef-rentes,” and these have been in use ever since Richard I., duke of Normandy, and possibly they may yet be of more ancient date.… In the Clos du Valle, out of extraordinary respect for the Abbot who resided among them, they paid both the _tenth_ and the _eleventh_ sheaf, both as _tithe_ and _campart_.” Camparts were owed on many fiefs, if not on all. Many owners of land have redeemed them. Others have _affranchis_ their land, which is done by Act of Court, on proof that the land has been under grass for forty years, and lasts as long as the land is tilled yearly.

[301] _Compos_--Composition.

[302] Here Mr. Métivier’s version ends, the remainder is from an old Guernsey Almanac dated 1828.

[303] _Hoigne_--Haine.

[304] _Hantonne_--Southampton.

[305] _A chartez_--En charrettes.

L’ARMÉE D’ESPAGNE, DEFAITTE EN L’AN 1588.

Puissant Roy d’Espagne, Combien riche tu es Pour l’entreprise vaine Que tu fis sur les Anglois, Ton entreprise vaine, Fut bientôt rebroussée.[306]

Vindrent sur l’Angleterre, Au beau mois de Juillet, Pour voir la bienheureuse Ma Dame Elizabeth, Mais ce fut à leur honte Que sentir grand reveil.

La grande Armée Angloise Commence a s’apprêter, Tous leurs soldats embarqués La poudre et les bullets, C’est pour joüer au quille[307] Avec les Portuguées.

Qui eust vue l’armée, D’Elizabeth s’en va De voir les grands bigots[308] Et flâquées[309] sur leurs mâts Des tambours et trompettes Apprêtés au combat.

La puissante avans garde A l’ancre n’étoit pas Comme fut “La Revanche” La vaisseau de Dras[310] Qui sortoit de Plymouth, Sillant sur sa plumas.[311]

Tous les plus grands navires Qui furent haut et bas De toute l’Angleterre Vindrent vers l’Amiral Luy supplier la grâce D’aller sur les guayhards (_sic_).

L’Amiral d’Angleterre[312] Leur répond d’un voix quas[313] Enfans, donnez vous garde Ne vous hasardez pas, Car l’armée est puissante Et nos vaisseaux sont trop ras.[314]

Ces gens de grand courage, Disoient à l’Amiral Seigneur, gardez la terre, Nous allons avec Dras[315] Nous aurons la vengeance De l’armée des Pillards.

La “Revanche” d’Angleterre Sous ses voiles s’en va, Chargeans ses coulverines Et tirans ses coutelas, Au grand tyran s’entraîne Et luy couppa ses mats.

Quand le Duc de Mydine, Sit ses grands arbres bas, Dit à sa compagnie Enfans--ne tirez pas, Mais rondez les navires, Ou vous mourrez tous plats.[316]

Sept navires de guerre, Lièrent au grand “Arc” Abordent cette vermine Sur le “Satanas” Pour porter pillage Avec le Seigneur Dras.

Un noble gentil homme Grand Seigneur des Estats S’en va rompant les coffres Et bahuts[317] hauts et bas, Où il trouva des lettres D’un fort merveilleux cas.[318]

Le grand Dauphin de Naples[319] De ça ne ryoit pas, Le Flamen se presente Sur un de ses boulevards De cette nef horrible,[320] Du grand “St. Matthias.”

S’informe par enquête Des gens d’armes en bas Touchant une lettre Quy portoit de grand mal En contre l’Angleterre Et tout le sang Royal.

Le peuple luy déclaroit Seigneur ne fâchez pas Que l’adresse de ça C’est au Prince Farnése[321] De par le Roy d’Espagne Qui de ça chargera.

Demande au grand de Naples Ce qu’il disoit de cela Encontre sa maîtresse Quoi penser en tel cas. En disant deux ou trois paroles, Le grand Prince le tua.

Puis luy fendit le ventre, Jusqu’à l’estomac, Son pauvre cœur luy tira Qui soudain luy trancha Devant la compagnie Qui beaucoup soupira.

Lors l’Amiral d’Espagne Soudain apparreilla Avec sa compagnie A vau la mer s’en va Mettant basse enseigne Par grand deuil s’en va.

Sortant vers Irlande Sous tout leur appareil Sur la haute mi-été[322] Le vent leur prend su-est Qui les mis sur la terre D’Irlande et y reste.

Les prudens Irlandois A leurs secours venoient En plaignant leurs misères Aux maisons les portaient Faisant au grands d’Espagne Plus qu’ils ne méritoient.

Le général d’Espagne Ses mourtres fits dresser, Appeller ses gens d’armes Et tous ses centeniers, Fit en grand’ diligence Sa grande troupe marcher.

Au peuple d’Irlande, Rendit tous ses bienfaits, Mit par toute la terre Gens d’armes en harnois,[323] Tuant homme et femme Sans merci ni délai.

Tous les Irlandois s’adressoient Au Comte de Tyrone Qui tenoit pour la Reine Contre la nation, Luy priant donner aide Contre les Castillons.

Le Comte met en ordre Ses princes et barons, Tous au fil de l’épée[324] Leur ordonner la fronde,[325] La douleur redoublée Qui les déconfit tous.

Lors voilà la ruine Des meurtriers Espagnols Qui faisoient tant de mines Dans de bien grands flibots,[326] Pensant prendre Angleterre Comme de fols idiots.

À Dieu soit la louange Qui de son bras tout fort, De tous leurs grands vaisseaux De nous pris la revanche Nous pensant détruire Et démembrer nos corps.

Les braves gens d’Espagne Partant de leurs maisons Pensant en Angleterre Sarcler[327] tous les chardons, Mais leurs gens et leurs moufles[328] N’étoient pas assez bons.

Quand on va par les villes Pour vendre les moutons, Chacun se donne à croire Que les viandes vaudront Mais c’est bien le contraire La plupart en donneront.[329]

FIN.

[306] _Rebrousser_--Retourner sur ses pas.

[307] _Quille_--“C’est un morçeaux de bois tourné, plus gros par le bas que par le haut, dont on se sert pour jouer.”

The English captains were playing bowls when the Spanish ships were announced as being in sight.

[308] _Bigots_--Terme de Marine. C’est une petite pièce de bois percée de deux ou trois trous, par où l’on passe le bâtard pour la composition de racage.

[309] _Flagner_--Jetter.

[310] Sir Francis Drake commanded the ship _Revenge_ during the fight with the Armada.

[311] _Plumas_--Plumage.

[312] _L’Amiral d’Angleterre_--Lord Howard of Effingham.

[313] Quas--Brisé.

[314]_Ras_--Terme de Mer. C’est un bâtiment qui n’a ni pont, ni tillac, ni couverture.

[315] _Dras_--Drake. Motley, in his _History of the Netherlands_, Vol. II., pp. 498-9, says: There were many quarrels among the English admirals at this period, and much jealousy of Drake.

[316] _Duc de Mydine_--The Duke of Medina-Sidonia, leader of the Spanish Armada, who, when the great hulk Satana and a galleon of Portugal were attacked by the _Triumph_ and some other vessels, on the flag-ship, (the _St. Martin_) tried to repel Lord Howard on the _Ark Royal_ and other men-of-war, and thence arose the hottest conflict of the day. He had previously, when Don Pedro de Valdez, commander of the Andelusian squadron,--having got his foremast carried away close to the deck,--lay crippled and helpless, calmly fired a gun to collect his scattered ships, and abandoned Valdez to his fate.… The next day Valdez surrendered to the _Revenge_.--Motley’s _Netherlands_, Vol. II., pp. 456-7.

[317] _Bahut_--Coffre couvert de cuir orné de petits clous.

[318] _Cas_--Terme de Pratique, Matière, Crime.

[319] _Le Grand Dauphin, etc._--Don Diego de Pimental, nephew of the Viceroy of Sicily, and uncle to the Viceroy of Naples, was captured in his ship the _St. Matthew_, by Admiral Van der Does, of the Holland fleet.--_Motley_, Vol. II., p. 473.

[320] _Nef_--Navire.

[321] Alexander, Prince Farnèse, and Duke of Parma, was commandant of the Spanish Army, and was waiting in Flanders for an opportunity of co-operating with the Spanish fleet. He was suspected of having a secret treaty with Queen Elizabeth, (_Motley_, Vol. II., p. 273-4), but these verses are so very obscure, it is impossible to identify the incidents to which they allude. It may be that they, as well as the last verse of this poem are interpolations from some other ballad, which has got confused with this one.

[322] _Mi-été_--le milieu de l’été.

[323] _Harnois_.--signifie l’habillement d’un homme d’armes.

[324] _Fil de l’epée_--est en usage depuis long temps. Ronsard a dit parlant de Henri III., … “devant le _fil_ de son epée.”

[325] _Fronder_--Attaquer quelque chose.

[326] _Flibot_--Terme de marine. C’est un moïen vaisseau qui est armé en course.

[327] _Sarcler_--Terme de Laboureur. Couper les méchantes herbes avec le sarcloir.

[328] _Moufles_--Garnie de poulies de cuivre, de boulons, et de cordages pour monter les pièces d’artillerie à l’elesoir.

[329] That this poem is very defective, and therefore obscure, is obvious, but I thought even this mutilated fragment was worth preserving. Many of the statements made in it are not borne out by history, though they probably formed part of the gossip of that day, and had filtered over to the Islands from sailors who had themselves had a share in some of the events narrated. This last verse seems to have no connection with the rest of the poem, but I have copied it as Job Mauger wrote it, nearly two centuries ago.

Secular Poems.

BELLE ROSE AU ROSIER BLANC.

J’ai cueilli la belle rose Qui pendait au rosier blanc, Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc!

Je la cueillis feuille à feuille Et la mis dans mon tablier blanc Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc.

Je l’ai portée chez mon père Entre Paris et Rouen Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc.

Las!--je n’ai trouvé personne Que le rossignol chantant Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc.

Qui me dit dans son langage Mariez vous à quinze ans Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc!

Hélas comment me marîrai-je? Moi qui suis baisse[330] pour un an, Belle Rose, Belle Rose au rosier blanc!

Combien gagnez vous, la belle? Combien gagnez vous par an? Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc!

Je gagne bien cent pistoles Cent pistoles en argent blanc Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc.

Venez avec moi, ma belle, Vous en aurez bien autant Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc.

Je ne vais avec personne Si l’on ne m’épouse avant Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc.

Si l’on ne me mène à l’église Par devant tous mes parents Belle Rose Belle Rose au rosier blanc![331]

[330] Baisse--servant girl.

[331] There are many versions of this song to be found among the country people, I have compared this with five or six others, and it is, I think, the most generally received.

À LA CLAIRE FONTAINE.

À la claire fontaine Dondaine, ma dondaine Les mains me suis lavé Dondaine ma lou-lou-la Les mains me suis lavé, Dondaine m’a dondé.

A la feuille d’un chêne Dondaine, ma dondaine Je les ai essuyées Dondaine ma lou-lou-la Je les ai essuyées Dondaine m’a dondé.

À la plus haute branche Dondaine, ma dondaine Un rossignol chantait Dondaine ma lou-lou-la Un rossignol chantait Dondaine m’a dondé.

Chante, rossignol, chante Dondaine, ma dondaine, Toi qui as le cœur gai Dondaine ma lou-lou-la Toi qui as le cœur gai Dondaine m’a dondé.

Le mien n’est pas de mème Dondaine, ma dondaine, Il est bien affligé Dondaine ma lou-lou-la Il est bien affligé Dondaine m’a dondé.

Pierre, mon ami Pierre, Dondaine, ma dondaine, À la guerre est allé Dondaine ma lou-lou-la A la guerre est allé Dondaine m’a dondé.

Pour un bouton de rose Dondaine, ma dondaine Que je lui refusai Dondaine ma lou-lou-la Que je lui refusai Dondaine m’a dondé.

Je voudrais que la rose Dondaine, ma dondaine Fut encore au rosier Dondaine ma lou-lou-la Fut encore au rosier Dondaine m’a dondé.

Et que mon ami Pierre Dondaine, ma dondaine Fut ici à m’aimer Dondaine ma lou-lou-la Fut ici à m’aimer Dondaine m’a, dondé.

QUI VEUT OUÏR.

Qui veut ouïr, qui veut savoir } bis. Comment les maris aiment? } Ils aiment si brutalement Ils sont de si brutales gens, Qu’on les entend toujours disant (Parlé) “Ah Madame allez gardez Le ménage et les enfants!” Fal-la-la.

Qui veut ouïr, qui veut savoir } bis. Comment les filles aiment? } Elles aiment si discrètement Elles sont de si discrètes gens, Qu’on les entend toujours disant (Parlé) “Ah Monsieur ne parlez pas si haut Car Maman nous entendra.” Fal-la-la.

Qui veut ouïr, qui veut savoir } bis. Comment les veuves aiment? } Elles aiment si sensiblement Elles sont de si sensibles gens, Qu’on les entend toujours disant (Parlé) “Ah! le beau jeune homme! Comme il ressemble à feu mon mari.” Fal-la-la.

Qui veut ouïr, qui veut savoir } bis. Comment les soldats aiment? } Ils aiment si cavalièrement Ils sont de si cavaliers gens Qu’on les entend toujours disant (Parlé) “Ah! Madame m’aimez vous? Ne m’aimez vous pas? dictes moi, Car il me faut rejoindre mon régiment.” Fal-la-la.

Qui veut ouïr, qui veut savoir } bis. Comment les Français aiment? } Ils aiment si frivolement Ils sont de si frivoles gens, Qu’on les entend toujours disant (Parlé) “Ah! Madame depuis que je vous ai vue Je ne songe qu’a vous!” Fal-la-la.

Qui veut ouïr, qui veut savoir } bis. Comment les Anglais aiment? } Ils aiment si stupidement Ils sont si stupides gens Qu’on les entend toujours disant (Parlé) “Tantôt la chasse, tantôt la Gazette, tantôt l’amour!” Fal-la-la.

Qui veut ouïr, qui veut savoir } bis. Comment les Guernesiais aiment? } Ils aiment si prudemment, Ils sont de si prudents gens Qu’on les entends toujours disant (Parlé) “Mademoiselle a-t’elle de l’argent!” Fal-la-la.

I have to thank Mr. J. T. R. de Havilland, of Havilland Hall, for kindly supplying me with a copy of this song.

MARGUERITE S’EST ASSISE.

Marguerite s’est assise--Tra-la-la. À l’ombre d’un rocher À son plaisir écoute--Tra-la-la Les mariniers chanter, Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.

Elle fit un’ rencontre--Tra-la-la De trente matelots Le plus jeune des trente--Tra-la-la. Il se mit à chanter. Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.

Qu’avez vous la belle--Tra-la-la. Qu’avez vous a pleurer? Je pleure mon anneau d’or--Tra-la-la. Qui dans la mer est tombé Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.

Que donnerez-vous la belle--Tra-la-la À qui le pêcherait? Un baiser sur la bouche--Tra-la-la. Ou deux s’il fallait Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.

Le galant se dépouille--Tra-la-la. Dans la mer a plongé La première fois qu’il plonge--Tra-la-la Il n’en a rien apporté Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.

La seconde fois qu’il plonge--Tra-la-la Les cloches vont ric-tin-té La troisième fois qu’il plonge--Tra-la-la. Le galant s’est noyé! Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.

Nous l’ferons enterrer--Tra-la-la Et puis dessus sa tombe Un rosmarin planter--Tra-la-la. Sur ce pauvre jeune homme! Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.

Nous dirons à sa mère--Tra-la-la Qu’il s’est embarqué Sur un vaisseau de guerre--Tra-la-la. Qui de loin est allé! Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.

LA MEUNIÈRE.

Je vais épouser la Meunière Dont on voit le moulin là bas Mais j’aime une pauvre bergère Comprenez-vous mon embarras, Ma Fanchette est si jolie Mais la Meunière a du bien S’il faut faire une folie Que cela ne soit pas pour rien. Bah! j’épouserai la Meunière Qui me fait toujours les yeux doux En me disant “Beau petit Pierre Mais quand donc nous marierons nous?”

Un instant--n’allons pas si vite, Suis je bien certain d’être heureux Avec la femme du moulin Dont je ne suis pas amoureux? Il s’agit de mariage C’est hélas! pour plus d’un jour, Oui! mais pour vivre en ménage C’est bien maigre de l’amour! Bah! j’épouserai la Meunière Qui me fait toujours les yeux doux En me disant “Beau petit Pierre Mais quand donc nous marierons nous?”

Cependant mon cœur s’inquiète Et me dit que c’est mal à moi De trahir la pauvre Fanchette À qui j’avais donné ma foi Elle est si tendre et si bonne Comme son cœur va souffrir. Hélas! si je l’abandonne Elle est capable d’en mourir Ma foi! tant pis pour la Meunière, Je ne serai pas son époux Qu’elle dise “Beau petit Pierre! Petit Pierre n’est pas pour vous?”

LE GLANEUR.

Sur nos grands blès déjà le soleil brille Quels lourds épis--en fût il de pareils! Va! travaillons, vite, en main la faucille Mais suivrez vous, suivrez vous mes conseils.

CHORUS:

Enfant, de chaque gerbe Que mûrit le Seigneur Laissez tomber dans l’herbe Quelques épis pour le glâneur Pensez au pauvre glâneur } bis Faites le bien--vous porterez bonheur. }

Notre ministre dit que le bien qu’on donne Est le meilleur qu’on pense récolter Il dépose lorsqu’il disait aux hommes. Donner aux pauvres, à Dieu n’est que prêter. Chorus.--Enfant, etc.

Aux pauvres içi le peu qu’on abandonne Dieu pour beaucoup ailleurs le comptera Des grains donnés, la moisson sera bonne Pour nous au Ciel, Dieu les centuplera. Chorus.--Enfant, etc.

LES TROIS TAMBOURS.

Trois jeunes tambours, revenant de la guerre, Le plus jeune des trois avait un bouquet de roses Au ron-ron-ron-te-tan-plan.

La fille du roi étant par sa fenêtre “Ah! jeune tambour, veux tu me donner tes roses?” Au ron-ron-ron-te-tan-plan.

“Mes roses sont pour mon mariage La fille du roi, veux tu être ma femme?” Au ron-ron-ron-te-tan-plan.

“Và jeune tambour, demander à mon père” “Sire le Roi, veux tu me donner ta fille?” Au ron-ron-ron-te-tan-plan.

“Ah! jeune tambour dis moi qu’est tes richesses?” “Mes richesses sont mes caisses[332] et mes balletes,[333]” Au ron-ron-ron-te-tan-plan.

“Và! jeune tambour, demain je te ferai pendre” “Six cent mille canons dans ce cas vont me défendre” Au ron-ron-ron-te-tan plan.

“Ah! jeune tambour, dis moi qui est ton père?” “Mon père il est le roi--le roi d’Angleterre!” Au ron-ron-ron-te-tan-plan.

“Ah! jeune tambour, voudrais tu bien ma fille?” “Ah! je m’en moque de vous et de votre fille, Dans mon pays y’ en a de bien plus gentilles.” Au ron-ron-ron-te-tan-plan.

SI J’AVAIS LE CHAPEAU.

Si j’avais le chapeau Que ma mie m’avait donné Mon chapeau est bel et beau

CHORUS: Adieu ma mignonne Adieu donc mes amours

Si j’avais la casaque[334] Que ma mie m’avait donné Ma casaque est zic et zac Mon chapeau est bel et beau. Chorus.--Adieu, etc.

Si j’avais le corselet Que ma mie m’avait donné Mon corselet est fort bien fait Ma casaque est zic et zac, Mon chapeau est bel et beau Chorus.--Adieu, etc.

Si j’avais la cravate Que ma mie m’avait donnée Ma cravate est ric et rac Mon corselet est fort bien fait Ma casaque est zic et zac Mon chapeau est bel et beau. Chorus.--Adieu, etc.

Si j’avais la culotte Que ma mie m’avait donnée Mes culottes débotes[335] et botes, Ma cravate est ric et rac, Mon corselet est fort bien fait Ma casaque est zic et zac, Mon chapeau est bel et beau. Chorus.--Adieu, etc.

Si j’avais les blancs bas Que ma mie m’avait donnés Mes blancs bas sont de damas, Mes culottes débotes et botes, Ma cravate est ric et rac Mon corselet est fort bien fait, Ma casaque est zic et zac, Mon chapeau est bel est beau. Chorus.--Adieu, etc.

Si j’avais les souliers Que ma mie m’avait donnés Mes souliers sont de cuir doux, Mes blancs bas sont de damas, Mes culottes débotes et botes, Ma cravate est ric et rac, Mon corselet est fort bien fait, Ma casaque est zic et zac, Et mon chapeau est bel et beau. Chorus.--Adieu, etc.

[332] _Caisses_--Coffres.

[333] _Ballettes_--Petites Valises.

[334] _Casaque_--“Habillement qui est plus large qu’un juste-au-corps et qui se porte sur les épaules en forme de manteau.”--_Richelet._

[335] _Débotes_--Tirer les botes de quelqu’un.

VENEZ PEUPLES FIDÈLES.

Venez peuple fidèle pour entendre chanter Un jeune militaire qui revient de la guerre, Qui revient de la guerre, muni de son congé En entrant dans son isle sa sœur l’a rencontré.

La sœur avec tendresse, de la joie qu’elle avait Vint embrasser son frère, et lui donner des baisers Le frère avec tendresse dit à sa chère sœur Ne m’y fais pas connaître, garde cela dans ton cœur.

Et le jeun’ militaire tout de suite est allé. Chercher son père et mère, en gardant son secret, Bonjour Monsieur et Dame aurez vous chambre à louer A un jeune militaire de la guerre retourné.

Ah oui! notre bon jeune homme, nous avons logement, Sur le lit de notre fils, nous te ferons coucher Les affaires de la guerre, tu nous raconteras Le soir à la table, après avoir soupé.

Il donne à la dame son argent à garder, Tenez ma très-chère dame, gardez moi cet argent, C’est pour soulager les peines de mes parents, Et la méchante femme de là s’en est allée.

Trouver son mari, lui dire, “C’est une fortune Faut le tuer de suite, nous aurons son argent.” Les deux méchants armés des gros couteaux Ont trainé dans la cave son corps tout sanglant.

Le lendemain matin la pauvre fille arrive, Ah! bon jour père et mère, je voudrais bien parler A ce beau jeune militaire, Que je vous ai amené.

La méchante mère, lui répond hardiment, Mais que dis tu ma fille? Est ce de nos parents? Ah! oui, ma très chère mère, c’est mon frère arrivé, Il revint de la guerre, mon cœur en est content.

La cruelle mère, si tôt elle écria J’ai égorgé ton frère, hélas! n’en parle pas. Mais la fille tout de suite les fît être emmenés Devant les justiciers, hélas! pour être jugés.

Les justiciers s’empressent de juger le procès Et les condamnent, tous les deux d’être brulés Oh vous pères et mères oyez ces malheurs Que les biens de ce monde ne vous tiennent point au cœurs.

Par la barbarie et l’ambition d’argent, Ces deux dans les flammes passent leurs derniers moments.[336]

[336] This legend, which is found with slight variations in the Folk-Lore of almost every European nation, seems to be deeply impressed on the older St. Martinais, in fact some say that the two rocks between Moulin Huet and Saints’ Bays, which look like two kneeling figures, are the petrified forms of the man and the woman, condemned there to kneel and expiate their crime till the end of the world.

JEAN, GROS JEAN.

Jean, gros Jean, marie sa fille, Grosse et grasse et bien habile, A un marchand de sabots, Radinguette et radingot

CHORUS: A un marchand de sabots Radinguette et radingot.

Pour dîner ils eurent des peis Entre quatre ils n’eurent que treis Ah! dévinez si c’est trop Radinguette et radingot. Chorus.--A un, etc.

Pour souper ils eurent des prunes Entre quatre ils n’en eurent qu’une Et la quervaie d’un escargot Radinguette et radingot. Chorus.--A un, etc.

Ils firent faire une couachette De deux secs buts de bûchette Et l’oreiller d’un fagot Radinguette et radingot Chorus.--A un, etc.

Ils firent faire des courtines Creyant que c’était mousseline Mais c’était Calaminco Radinguette et radingot. Chorus.--A un, etc.[337]

I have concluded this chapter of Guernsey songs with this one, though it is of an entirely different style and class to any of the others, but the tune to which it is set, is said to be the national air of Guernsey.

When the Duke of Gloucester landed here on the 18th of September, 1817, this song, as the Guernsey National Air was struck up by the band which came to meet him; the militiamen, knowing the song, all burst out laughing, much to the astonishment of the Duke and his suite!

[Illustration: Jean, gros Jean, ma-rie sa fille, Grosse et grasse et bien ha-bile, À un marchand de sa-bots,

Radinguette et ra-din-got; À un marchand de sa-bots, Ra-dinguette et ra-din-got.]

[337] From Mrs. Kinnersly, to whom I am also indebted for the music.

The Clameur de Haro.

It has been suggested that the Clameur de Haro should be included among the civic customs peculiar to the Channel Islands. (See p.p. 59-77), so, as Sir Edgar MacCulloch had not mentioned it in his MSS. I have ventured to include a short description of it in the Appendix.

The “Clameur de Haro,” abolished in Normandy, A.D., 1583, is, perhaps, the most ancient and curious legal survival in the Channel Islands.

Should a Channel Islander consider his estate to be injured, or his rights to be infringed, by the action of another, in the presence of two witnesses he kneels on the ground and says:--

“Haro! Haro! Haro! à l’aide mon Prince! on me fait tort!” and he then repeats the Lord’s Prayer in French.

This formula, which is tantamount to an injunction to stay proceedings, causes all obnoxious practices to be suspended until the case has been tried in Court, when the party who is found to be in the wrong is condemned to a fine and a “Regard de Château,” which, in former times, meant a night’s imprisonment. All “Clameurs,” according to an ordonnance of October 1st, 1599, have to be registered at the Greffe within twenty-four hours, on penalty of being “convict en sa clameur,” and, should no proceedings be taken within a year of the clameur, it is considered to have lapsed.

An order of Queen Elizabeth relative to Guernsey, given at Richmond, October 9th, 1580, decides that “yt shall not be lawfull to appeale in anie cause criminell, or of correction, nor from the execution of anie order taken in their Courte of Chief Pleas, nor in cries of Haro.”[338]

One of the most important occasions on which this prerogative was used happened in the year 1850, when it was in contemplation to demolish the ancient fortifications of Castle Cornet, but the late Mr. Martin F. Tupper, who was then on a visit to Guernsey, had recourse to this form of appeal, and saved the oldest parts of the fortress from demolition. An extraordinary instance of a “Clameur” took place in the Church of Sark on the 14th of December, 1755. A great dispute had arisen between Dame Elizabeth Etienne, widow of Mr. Daniel Le Pelley, Seigneur of Sark, and the ecclesiastical authorities of Guernsey, as to in whose gift was the living of the Church of Sark. She appointed a Mr. Jean Févot to the Church, and when Mr. Pierre Levrier, who had been appointed by the Dean of Guernsey to this post, arrived in Sark to perform the service, he found Mr. Févot in the pulpit. He then and there, in the words of various scandalized eye-witnesses, “interjetta une Clameur de Haro, environ les deux heures d’après-midi, dans le tems qu’il avoit commencé à lire le service Divin.”[339] This of course led to many disputes, and for over a year Dame Le Pelley locked up the Church of Sark, and allowed no one to enter it. Finally, after much litigation, and threats of major excommunication from the Guernsey Ecclesiastical Court, the Bishop of Winchester intervened, Pierre Levrier was forcibly ejected from the island, and, in 1757, Mr. Cayeux Deschamps was given the living.

Four cases of “Clameurs” were registered between the years 1880-90, and an instance occurred as recently as 1902.

There has been much controversy as to the origin of the word “Haro.” Terrien, (_Coutûme de Normandie_, Edition 1684, p. 104), ascribes it to Rollo, Duke of Normandy, Ha-Ro, and says “La seule prononciation de son nom, même après tant de siècles a cette vertu, qu’elle engage ceux contre lesquels on s’en sert à cesser leurs entreprises et atenter rien au-de-là.” Laurence Carey, in his essay on the Laws and Customs of the Island, and all the other old writers say likewise, but modern philologists, such as Le Héricher and George Métivier have disputed this theory, and have resolved the word “Haro” into a “cri de charge,” which has survived as such in the English “Hurrah.” Froissart employs it frequently as the sound of combat: “Le _Haro_ commença à monter,” and, in the description of the battle of Bouvines, won from the Germans and English in 1214, by Guillaume Guiart, who died in 1306 we find:--

“La vois de nuls n’i est oïe Fors des heraux qui _harou_ crient, Et par le champ se crucefient _Harou_, dient-ils, quel mortaille! Quelle occision! quelle bataille!”[340]

[338] _Livres des Jugements, etc._, Vol. II., p. 16, (transcribed from British Museum, Lansdowne MSS., No. 155, fol. 426).

[339] From Colonel Ernest Le Pelley’s MSS.

[340] See _Dictionnaire Franco-Normand_, by G. Métivier, p. 280.

APPENDIX A. Ghosts.

Referred to on page 288.

THE GHOST OF MR. BLONDEL.

At “Les Mourains” we have seen that the ghost was “laid” by the means of the clergy of the parish, (see page 288) and it is evident by the following stories that the laying of spirits frequently formed part of the duties of the clergy in Guernsey in the last century.

The house Colonel Le Pelley now inhabits at St. Peter-in-the-Wood, was formerly owned by an old Mr. Blondel, who, on his death bed, gave instructions to Mr. Thomas Brock (then Rector of the parish and grandfather of the present Rector, Mr. H. Walter Brock), to toll the big bell to announce his decease.

This was not done, but Mr. Blondel’s spirit determined to show that promises to the dying were not to be trifled with! All the parish of St. Pierre-du-Bois were ready to affirm that the ghost was to be seen climbing up the Church tower; and in the Rectory kitchen the china on the dresser would make a clattering noise and finally be swept by the unseen hands on to the floor.

Life at the Rectory became so unendurable under these circumstances that Mr. Brock finally decided to “lay” the ghost, and confine it to its own house. So he went to “Prospect Place,” as the house is now called, with twelve others of the local clergy. They shut every door and window, and blocked up every crevice, key-hole, etc., through which the spirit might pass. They then prayed in every room, after which having driven the spirit out of each room in succession, they locked it up in a cupboard, with either the key of the Church door or a specially-made silver key (Miss Le Pelley could not find out which, some say one, and some another), but the ghost has not troubled the Brock family since.

The old servants now living in the house firmly believe that the ghost still inhabits the cupboard, and affirm that its groans can still be heard.[341]

[341] From Miss E. Le Pelley.

THE OLD HOUSE AT ST. GEORGE.

Judith Ozanne, an old woman, who is servant at the Le Pelleys’, tells the following story.

Her uncle, an old Mr. Ozanne, remembered the last Mr. Guille who inhabited the original “St. George,” the old house which has been replaced by the modern building which is now known as “St. George.”

This Mr. Guille left instructions that the old house was never to be pulled down, as a spirit had been shut up in one of the cupboards; but his son found the old house quite unsuitable for his bride to live in, so he pulled it down, and built the present house, and the consequence was that the poor homeless spirit was forced to wander about the garden. Judith’s uncle saw him often on moonlight nights, wandering among the trees around the pond.

All the family saw him too, and decided that something had to be done. So they had a “conjuration” as they call a laying of the spirit, and tried to induce it to enter an underground cellar, and shut it down by means of a trap door.

But Mr. Ozanne would never say whether or no they were successful. Judith Ozanne finishes the story by saying, “And I should like to know what would happen to Mr. Blondel’s spirit if this house were burnt down?”[342]

Many of the old Guernsey “haunted houses” had their ghosts locked up in cupboards. Mrs. Le Poidevin, who in her youth had been an “ironer,” and had gone round from house to house ironing after the weekly washing at home had taken place, related that the famous haunted house at the Tour Beauregard was also in possession of a ghost locked up in a cupboard, a cupboard whose doors, in spite of many efforts, would not open, and from which the most fearful groans and dismal wailings were heard to arise. Mrs. Le Poidevin also used to go as ironer to the old house at the top of Smith Street, now pulled down, belonging, to the de Jersey family. In this house also was a ghost locked up in a cupboard, and Mrs. de Jersey, a very strong minded old lady,--in defiance of superstition--insisted on having this cupboard door forced open, and the ghost escaped! After that the house was rendered almost uninhabitable by the frightful noises that were heard all over it. No one could get any sleep, and not a servant could be found to stay in the house. So finally Mrs. de Jersey decided to have the clergy called in, and one of the maids described to Mrs. Le Poidevin the ceremonies that ensued.

She said that every outer door was locked, all the crevices between the window sashes were wedged up, and every keyhole was plugged up. Then the minister of St. James’ and some of the other clergy prayed in every room, and she thought they read something about “casting out devils.” Finally the ghost was locked up with the key of the Church door.[343]

[342] From Miss E. Le Pelley.

[343] From Mrs. Le Poidevin.

In Moncure Conway’s book on _Demonology and Devil-Lore_, Vol. I., p. 102, he says:--“The key has a holy sense in various religions.” I have not been able to find out the exact formula used by the clergy, but in the Sarum Office, and also in the first Prayer Book of Edward VI., an exorcism is given to be used at the Baptism of Infants, in which the evil spirit is addressed as follows:--“Therefore, thou accursed spirit, remember thy sentence, remember thy judgment, remember the day to be at hand, wherein thou shalt burn in fire everlasting, prepared for thee and thy angels,” etc. This was founded on the ancient exorcisms, and was only left out in the revision of 1552, in deference to the criticisms of Bucer.

THE GHOSTS OF LA PETITE PORTE.

La Petite Porte is the sandy bay immediately underneath Jerbourg. Tradition derives its name “the little door” from an incident which is said to have occurred in 1338. In those days the French had made one of their periodical inroads on the island, and were in possession of its principal fortresses. Eighty-seven men of St. Martin’s parish, headed by l’honorable “Capitaine Jean de la Marche,”[344] attempted to dislodge them, but were defeated at Mare-Madoc, in the Hubits, and fled down to La Petite Porte, where they embarked for Jersey, and founded a colony at St. Ouen’s. An old Jersey manuscript goes on to say that Charles II., during his sojourn in Jersey, was so touched by the recital of the bravery and fidelity of these men, that he granted to the “South” Regiment of Militia, the old “Regiment Bleu,” a special “aiguillette d’argent.” Later authorities disprove this, on the grounds that there were not, at this epoch, either regiments or uniforms, and that the “royal blue facings and silver lace” quoted as “being borne at present by the South Regiment of Militia” did not exist two centuries ago!

But among the old country people, to the present day, the bay known as “Moulin Huet” is invariably called “Vier Port” (old harbour), and if one mentions “Moulin Huet _Bay_” they will tell you that the name “Moulin Huet” only applies to the old mill, (now destroyed, and the site turned into a picnic house), and that it was “Les Anglais” who transferred the name of the mill to the bay just below, so that “La Petite Porte,” being just the other side of the bay, might easily have been originally “Petit Port”--(Little Harbour.)

Bounded by the “Tas de Pois,” the most magnificent rocks in the Channel Islands, it is noted for its beauty, and, from its long expanse of sand, is the best place for sand-eeling. But about the beginning of last century no sand-eelers dared approach this spot by night. Screams, shrieks, and groans were heard there, night after night, and finally it was shunned after dark by the whole island. There was no difficulty in the people’s minds in accounting for these sounds. Two such awful tragedies were connected with this bay and its environs that it was an “embarras de richesse” to decide which of the ghosts of the two men who had been murdered in this vicinity it could be!

The first of these stories has already been published in a little book, now out of print, called _Anglo-Norman Legends_ or _Tales of the Channel Islands_, N.D., under the title of “John Andrew Gordier,” and has also been taken as the foundation of “Rachel Mauger, a Guernsey Tragedy,” published some years ago in Clarke’s _Guernsey Magazine_, where also, in the number for May, 1883, the same story is given in a condensed form, as taken from a newspaper cutting, and is preceded by the following note, signed “J. Y.

“The following striking narrative, relating to the origin of a drama celebrated in its day (the tragedy of “Julia”), became known to the writer through an old newspaper cutting preserved in a family scrap book. The newspaper of which we speak must be at least fifty years old (in 1883), and it related events which were then long past.”

A book called _The Locket_, by Mrs. Alfred Marks is based on the same tradition.

Though these events must have happened nearly two hundred years ago, there are still some recollections of them lingering in the minds of the very old people, who preface them by saying “_J’ai ouï dire à ma gran’mère!_”

The story runs thus:--About the end of the seventeenth century there was an extremely beautiful girl, living at the Varclin, in St. Martin’s parish, called Rachel Mauger. The Maugers were of a good old Guernsey family, and were, in those days, extremely well-to-do. She was engaged to John Andrew Gordier, a native of Jersey, though of French extraction. One day he sent her word that he was going to sail over from Jersey to see her, and intended landing at La Petite Porte, which was the nearest place to her house. She started to go to meet him. But he never appeared, and she had to return home, fearing that some accident had happened to him. What really had happened was this: There was a wealthy merchant, in St. Peter Port, named Gaillard, who had long wished to marry Rachel; he had formerly been her father’s clerk, so they had been much thrown together, but she did not reciprocate his affection.

The day Mr. Gordier sailed over to Guernsey, Gaillard was down in the bay of La Petite Porte, having previously been refused admission to the Mauger’s house, on the ground that Mr. Gordier was expected, and they were all busy preparing for his reception. Brooding over his wrongs, he looked up, and saw his rival just on the point of landing. Mad with jealousy he waited behind the rocks till he saw him preparing to ascend the winding path which leads to the top of the cliff, then he rushed out, and stabbed him twice in the back with the knife he always carried, and, doubling him up, thrust the body into a cave close by with a particularly small entrance. The cave is still pointed out, and is on the western side of the bay, just below the path, leading from La Petite Porte to Moulin Huet. Before leaving the body, Gaillard searched it, and abstracted a peculiarly-shaped locket from one of the pockets, which Gordier was bringing as a present to his _fiancée_.

Of course the disappearance of Gordier led to a search, and his body being finally discovered in this cave by some boys, his murder was made manifest. His mother finally resolved to come over and visit her intended daughter-in-law, whom she found in a most depressed and excitable condition, and evidently dying of a broken heart. United to the shock of her lover’s death, she had been exposed to the incessant persecution of her relations, who were determined that she should marry Gaillard, and had insisted that she should accept the locket that he had stolen from Gordier’s corpse, and, with a refinement of malice, had pressed on her. So unstrung was the unfortunate Rachel that she did nothing but sink into one fainting fit after another on seeing Mrs. Gordier, and when the latter, struck with horror on seeing this jewel on her watch-chain, asked her how she had come into possession of a locket which had, she knew, been made specially for her in Jersey by her son’s orders, the unhappy girl turned deadly pale, and, murmuring the word “clerc,” fell in a dead faint to the ground. The final shock, and sudden conviction that they had been harbouring her lover’s murderer, being too much for her in her enfeebled condition, she died in a few moments.

Mrs. Gordier misinterpreted the poor girl’s grief, and, thinking it proceeded from a guilty conscience, intimated that it evidently shewed that Rachel was an accomplice in the murder. Naturally the Maugers were most indignant at such an unworthy aspersion on their daughter, and, after a violent scene, asked her to prove her statements. She replied that the jewel their daughter was then wearing was one which was purchased by her son before leaving Jersey, and she proved the fact by touching a secret spring and shewing his portrait concealed in the locket. The Maugers, knowing that Gaillard had been the donor of this jewel, and connecting “clerc,” the last word Rachel’s lips had uttered, with him, as being her father’s clerk, immediately sent for him. On being confronted with the jewel, and asked to explain how it came into his possession, he replied that he had purchased it from a Jew, named Levi, who had for years paid periodical visits to the island as a pedlar. So Levi was then considered to be undoubtedly guilty, and was taken into custody, but then, remorse, the fear of public shame, and also the conviction that, Rachel being dead nothing made life worth living, so wrought on the miserable Gaillard, that the morning of the day on which Levi was to be brought before the Royal Court, he was found dead, stabbed by his own hand.

A letter was found on the table in his room confessing his guilt and reading thus: “None but those who have experienced the furious impulse of ungovernable love will pardon the crime which I have committed, in order to obtain the incomparable object by whom my passions were inflamed. But, Thou, O Father of Mercies! who implanted in my soul these strong desires, wilt forgive one rash attempt to accomplish my determined purpose, in opposition, as it should seem, to thy Almighty Providence.”[345]

[344] “L’honorable Jean de la Marche, du bas, Commandant-en-Chef de la paroisse de St. Martin, voyant l’isle de Guernesey révoltée contre son Roi, et servant de préférence sous les drapeaux Français; ce vaillant homme, dis-je, ému par un esprit vraiment loyal, et secondé par l’honorable Messire Pierre de Sausmarez, James Guille, Jean de Blanchelande, Pierre Bonamy, Thomas Vauriouf, et Thomas Etibaut, qui allèrent partout chercher des secours, et tâchant de détruire tous les factieux, et animés d’un désir d’assister à leur bienfaiteur pour reprendre le Château Cornet, assistés par les braves habitants de la petite Césarée; la paroisse de St. Martin leva et envoya quatre-vingt-sept hommes, qui se joignirent aux dites honorables personnes, sous le commandement du dit noble Jean de la Marche, du bas; ce nombre était autant que la paroisse de St. Martin pût en fournir dans ce temps là. Ayant été attaqués au Mont Madau (dit les Hubits) ils firent retraite et s’embarquèrent à la petite Porte (qui porte ce nom à cause de cette aventure) sur de frèles barques, parmi les rochers, et arrivèrent enfin à Jersey, et se joignirent sous le commandement de Messire Renaud de Carteret, Grand Gouverneur des Iles, et se battirent vailleusement sous les drapeaux de sa Majesté, après avoir échappé à la fureur d’une mer orageuse. St. Martin était la seule paroisse de cette isle de Guernesey, qui se garda sous l’obéissance du Roi, pour lesquels bons services, il plut à sa Majesté Charles II., leur accorder à leur requête le galon d’argent comme le plus noble. C’est alors que plusieurs habitants de St. Martin donnèrent leurs services pour leurs vies au susdit Renaud de Carteret, Gouverneur-en-Chef, et conçurent un tel mépris pour leurs pays qu’ils habitèrent Jersey. Lisez pour cela le discours que Charles II. donna au Parlement à son retour, et l’estime et l’éloge qu’il fait de ces héros.”--_From an old document entitled “Touchant La Preséance d’Honneur chalengée, par Guernesé.”_

[345] From Mrs. Le Patourel, Mr. Tourtel, and from my father, who had heard it from his father, and collated with the printed versions of the story.

LE SEIGNEUR DE DAMÈQUE.

This second story is not at all well known, except among some of the very old people at St. Martin’s. I will not mention the names of the murderers, as descendants of the family still survive, and are among the most respected of the country people.

At the end of the eighteenth century many French noblemen fled over here, to escape the terrors of the French revolution. Among them was a Seigneur de Damèque. (I have no idea whether or not whether this is the correct spelling of his name, but it represents the pronunciation of the people). He came out to St. Martin’s parish, and took a house at Le Hurel, just above Le Vallon. He was very proud and reserved, made no friends, and was always seen going for long solitary walks, or pacing down “Les Olivettes,” (the old name for what is now known as “the water lane”) or underneath “Les Rochers,” the cliffs on which the Manor House of Blanchelande now stands, and resting by the “douït” where the pond at Le Vallon now is, but which, in those days, was public property.

He was always very richly dressed, and was supposed to have hidden hoards of wealth, as well as to carry large sums of money on his person. There were two or three brothers who lived together in a house near Le Varclin, who, tempted by his supposed riches, and thinking that his isolation would prevent his disappearance being noticed or enquiries being made, decided on following him on one of his solitary rambles and on murdering him. These brothers had always borne a bad reputation; they gambled and drank, and were the “vauriens” of an otherwise respectable family.

So, one evening, they followed him, as, passing above La Petite Porte, he entered into the narrow lane, overgrown with trees and thorn bushes, which leads to Jerbourg Point. There they closed upon him, and, being two or three to one, murdered him, and, after having robbed the body of his watch, rings, etc., buried the corpse under some of the heaps of stones which lie on the waste lands at the top of the cliff.

Some wonder was caused at Le Hurel when he failed to appear, but the rumour was started that he had been seen sailing away in a little fishing boat he used to hire for the season, from Bec du Nez, and which the murderers had had the forethought to scuttle and sink. The country people thought he had returned to his native land, and all interest in the matter dropped.

[Illustration: Haunted Lane near Jerbourg.]

But there was one man to whom M. de Damèque’s disappearance meant much. In Paris he had left a dear friend, a Dr. Le Harrier. These two men wrote to each other regularly, and when M. de Damèque’s letters suddenly ceased, letters came to Le Hurel from this doctor, asking for explanations--letters which were never answered. Among M. de Damèque’s jewellery was a beautiful and most uncommon watch, with either his coronet and monogram or his coronet and arms displayed on the case. One day, some years after his disappearance, Dr. Le Harrier, walking through the streets of Paris, saw this unmistakable watch hanging in a jeweller’s shop. He went in and asked the man how it had got into his possession, and the man told him it had been brought by some men from Guernsey, who had been trying to sell it in England, Holland, and Belgium, and finally had left it with him to dispose of. Dr. Le Harrier bought the watch, and, taking the men’s address, started at once for Guernsey. When he arrived he made enquiries, and, finding that these men bore a bad reputation, took some constables with him and went to the house. There they found them sodden with drink, and, haunted by fear and remorse when they saw the watch, they sank down on their knees and confessed everything, and were led off then and there to prison.

The next thing to be done was to disinter the bones of the murdered man and give them Christian burial. Heavily handcuffed the brothers were taken to the spot, accompanied by various members of the clergy, a doctor, who had to certify that every bone was there, (this is a point much dwelt upon by every teller of the story), Dr. Le Harrier, and all the people of St. Martin’s. Then the bones, being found, were placed in a coffin, and reverently buried in St. Martin’s churchyard.

After the last spadeful of earth had been put in the grave, and while handcuffed prisoners and all the bystanders were still present, an old St. Martin’s man, named Pierre Jehan, got up and made the following speech, which I have written down word for word as the people still tell it.

_“Autrefois quand on enterrait des dépouilles mortelles on y envoyait des rameaux et des bouquets de fleurs. Aujourd’hui on ne voit rien de tout ça.”_

_“Autrefois on aurait donné un quartier de froment en fonds d’héritage pour porter le nom de ----. Aujourd’hui on en donnera quatre pour ne le pas porter.”_

(“Formerly when burying a corpse one sent branches of trees and bouquets of flowers. To-day there is nothing of that.”

“Formerly one would have given a quarter of wheat rent to bear the name of ----. To-day one would give four not to bear it.”)

The shock and the shame were such that the brothers were seized by what the people call “a stroke,” and to the relief of their relations died in prison before being brought for trial.

That the ghosts of these two murdered men should revisit the scenes of the crime was only to be expected, but finally, when La Petite Porte was shut to sand-eelers by reason of “_ces cris terribles_,” some of the neighbours and fishermen began to wonder whether nothing could be done to lay these unquiet spirits and free the bay from its supernatural visitants.

There was a man called Pierre Thoume, who lived at Les Blanches, most popular in the parish, being ready to go everywhere and join in everything, though he was emphatically a “bon Chrétien.” He was a distant relative of the murderers of M. de Damèque, and, having heard these noises at various times, it was borne in upon him that perhaps if he could find out what the ghost wanted, he could fulfil its wishes, and so let it rest in peace. He even prayed for guidance, and more and more he felt it to be his duty to go and meet the ghost face to face. At first some other men said they would join him, but when the appointed night came their spirits failed them, and no one arrived at the rendezvous. Undaunted, and armed only with his Bible, Mr. Thoume sallied forth alone at midnight. I think it is difficult to realise what moral and physical courage it must have involved to go forth alone to encounter the supernatural, fully persuaded of its unearthly character.

Early in the morning he returned to his home, looking very white, and with a curiously set expression on his face. His wife and daughters, who had waited up for him, rushed at him to know what had happened, but he said, “You must never ask me what has happened, what I have seen, what I have done. I have sworn to keep it a secret, and as a secret it will die with me, but this I can tell you, you may go to La Petite Porte at any hour of the day or night, and never again shall any ghost haunt it, or noise or scream be heard.” And to this day the noises have utterly ceased.

Pierre Thoume kept his vow, though his family, friends, and neighbours, implored him time after time, even on his death bed, to tell them what he had seen. His invariable reply was, “I have given my word, and I will not break it.”[346]

[346] From Mrs. Rowswell, Mr. Thoume’s daughter, Mrs. Le Patourel, Mrs. Charles Marquand, Margaret Mauger, Mr. Tourtel, and many others, inhabitants of St. Martin’s parish.

LES CÂCHES.

There are two houses called Les Câches in St. Martin’s parish, situated one behind the other in the district so called, between the blacksmith’s forge at St. Martin’s and the Forest Road. Tradition says that they all formed part of one property, which extended as far as St. Martin’s Church, and was a nunnery, the nuns having a private lane of their own by which they could go to the church without the fear of meeting any men _en route_. There is a pond situated to the left of a long avenue which now leads to the front door of one of the houses, and for years it was believed that on a certain night of the year, a woman’s figure, dressed in grey, is seen walking up and down the avenue, weeping and wringing her hands, and then rushing to the pond. The story the people tell to account for this appearance is, that one of the nuns was discovered at the dead of night trying to drown her child and herself in the pond. They were rescued, but only for a worse fate, for the unfortunate woman and child were bricked up in a cupboard which is now situated in one of the outhouses, but is supposed to have been the old refectory. The people also tell in confirmation of this story that the night the ghost is seen this cupboard door flies open of itself though it is quite impossible to force it open at any other time.

It is possible that if this was an ecclesiastical establishment, it was one of those alien priories of which Sir Edgar MacCulloch says:--

“After the loss of Normandy the inconvenience of having so many valuable possessions in the hands of the enemy, led to the suppression of these priories, and in these islands, whenever there was war between England and France, alien ecclesiastics were compelled to leave.”

So probably the old conventual buildings, if there were any, were allowed to fall into ruins, and the land passed into the hands of the Patrys, and thence, through the marriage of Marguerite Patrys and Pierre Bonamy, into the possession of the Bonamys, who owned it for many centuries. There is an old document which tells the story of how the Bonamys first came to Guernsey.

“On their return from the Holy Land, whither they had accompanied the King of France, two brothers were driven by a violent storm, and thrown into a little bay, where their bark went to pieces. In gratitude for their preservation they made a vow to remain where Providence had placed them. One, a priest, founded a church, and the other married and founded the Bonamy family.” In 1495, John Bonamy, son of Pierre and Marguerite Patrys, was “Procureur du Roi” in Guernsey, and his old MS. memorandum book still survives, in which he describes a pilgrimage to Rome he made in 1504, through France and Italy.

The following extracts relative to building Les Câches have been deciphered from the old crabbed manuscript by Colonel J. H. Carteret Carey:--

_1468.--M^{o} des gans quy mont aydy a caryer la pere … et des grant roquez … de le Cluse Luet--premez Gylome robert j jo^{r} &c._

_1498.--M^{o} que je marchande de Colas Fyquet po^{r} ma meson, le but deverz le nort … par la some de viij escus.… Il comencest le xviij^{eme} jo^{r} du moys de Maye--le Mardyt._

_1504.--M^{o} que Gylome le Corvar et Colin Savage comancer acovyr ma grange landeman du jo_{r} Saint Appolyne. Acevest le jo^{r} Saint Aubin lan vc quatre,_ which may be translated:--

(1468.--Memo of the people who helped me to quarry the stone … and the big rocks … of “l’Ecluse Luet” [the Ecluse was the mill-dam in connection with the old watermill which gave its name to Moulin Huet Bay. It was situated in the hollow at the bottom of the water-lane of “Les Olivettes,” just above the old Mill House] first William Robert, one day, &c.)

(1498.--Memo. That I bargain with Colas Fyquet about my house, the end (to be) towards the north … for the sum of eight escus. They began the 18th of May--on Tuesday.)

(1504.--Memo. That William Le Corvar (&) Colin Savage, began to cover my barn the day following the day of Saint Appolyne [Feb. 9,] finished the day of St. Aubin [March 1,] 1504.)

In the parish of St. Martin’s they still tell a story of the old days when the Bonamys yet occupied Les Câches.

Years and years ago, there was an old Helier Bonamy,[347] who lived at the Câches. He was one of the richest men in Guernsey, and kept, as well as cows and horses, a large flock of sheep, there being much demand for wool in those days on account of the quantity of jerseys, stockings, &c., knitted over here. One night he and his daughter went to a ball in the town. Tradition even goes so far as to say that Miss Bonamy was dressed in white brocade. Before starting, Helier Bonamy summoned his herdsmen, and told them to keep a sharp look out after his sheep, for that there were many lawless men about. Helier and his daughter[348] walked home that night earlier than was expected.

As they turned into the avenue, between high hedges and forest trees, they heard the bleatings of sheep in pain. “_Écoute donc, ce sont mes berbis_” (Listen, those are my sheep), said Helier, and drew his daughter under the hedge to listen. Peeping through the bushes they saw his herdsman and farm labourers calling each other by name, drinking, talking and laughing, and, while cutting the throats of the defenceless sheep, chanting in chorus:--

_“Rasons! rasons! les berbis_ _Du grand Bonamy,_ _S’il était ichin d’vànt,_ _Nou l’i en feraït autant!”_

(Shear! shear! the sheep, Of the great Bonamy, Were he here before us, We would do as much to him).

They crept up the avenue unobserved to the house, for Helier was afraid to confront all these men who had evidently been drinking heavily, alone and unarmed. The next day his herdsman came to him with a long face, and said that robbers had broken into the sheepfold in the night and killed all the sheep, and brought up the other men as witnesses. Mr. Bonamy said nothing, except that he would like all these men to accompany him down to the Court to there testify to the robbery. This they did, and when they got there and told their story, Mr. Bonamy and his daughter then turned round and denounced them. They were taken into custody, and hanged shortly afterwards at St. Andrew’s.[349]

There are several stories illustrating the re-appearance of people whose dying wishes had been disregarded by their survivors, and also of people wishing to tell their heirs where their treasure had been hid.

At the King’s Mills, a Mrs. Marquand died, and left instructions with her husband that her clothes were to be given to her sister Judith. After her death the widower did not do it, so every night her ghost came and knocked at her husband’s door. One night she rapped so loudly that all the neighbours opened their windows, and heard her say:--

“_Jean, combien de temps que tu me feras donc souffrir, donne donc mes hardes à ma sœur Judi_.”

(John, how much longer wilt thou make me suffer, give then my clothes to my sister Judy).

He gave the clothes the next day, and the spirit returned no more.[350]

Almost the same story is told of a Mrs. Guille, who gave orders that after her death a certain amount of clothes were to be bought and yearly distributed amongst the poor. This her husband neglected to comply with, so Mrs. Guille visited him one night, and told him that she would do so every night until the clothes were given. Mr. Guille hurriedly bought and distributed the clothes, and continued to do so yearly until he died.[351]

Miss Le Pelley also contributes the following ghost stories which are told at St. Pierre-du-Bois:--

“About the beginning of the century a man went to Gaspé (which the narrator said was Newfoundland, but is really on the mainland). While there, his father died suddenly, and the son came back to Guernsey to work the farm. One night his father appeared to him and told him that he would find “_une petite houlette_” (a little mug) on the barn wall, with something of value in it. Next morning the son went to look, and found a mug full of five franc pieces.”

“A widow in Little Sark had sold her sheep advantageously and hidden the money in the “_poûtre_” (the large central rafter which runs along the ceiling of the kitchen). Quite suddenly she died. Whenever her son walked about in Little Sark he met his mother, which made him feel very frightened, so one day he made his brother come with him, and together they met her, and plucked up courage enough to say:--‘In the name of the Great God what ails you,’ so then, having been spoken to first, she could tell them where her hoard of treasure was, and then disappeared, and was never seen again.”

The whole country-side is full of shreds of ghost stories and beliefs; many of these were probably due to, and encouraged by, the smugglers of olden days.

For instance a funeral procession was supposed to issue from an old lane south of Le Hurel--now blocked up--and no St. Martin’s man or woman would dare pass the place at night. But smugglers, creeping along between the overhanging hedges, with kegs and bundles on their shoulders, would have had just the same effect, especially to people who would have been far too frightened at an unexpected nocturnal appearance to stop and investigate the matter.

At the corner between Les Maindonneaux and the Hermitage, a tall figure was said to appear, and hover round the spot. When the road was widened and the wall round the Hermitage was built, a stone coffin was found full of very large bones. These bones were taken to the churchyard, and the burial service read over them, and since then no ghost has been seen.

Then, a little further on, around the pond of Sausmarez Manor, was seen an old man, dressed in a long grey coat, and a grey felt plumed hat. This is supposed by the people to be old Mr. Matthew de Sausmarez--“Le Grand Matthieu” as he is called,--but why he is supposed to return is unknown.

Even now-a-days, in quite modern most unghostly-looking houses, you hear tales of little old women, former inhabitants, being seen. In another house, where a suicide is known to have occurred, soft finger knocks are heard against the walls of one of the rooms, as of some one shut up in the room and seeking release; the door is opened, and nothing is to be seen. And in St. Martin’s the ghost of a woman, who only died a few years ago, is said to haunt the garden of the house in which she lived. Her daughter saw the appearance and was picked up in a dead faint from fright, but then the woman was supposed by all the neighbours to have been a witch, and, of course, as they say, the spirit of “une sorcière” could not rest quiet in consecrated ground.

I will close this chapter on ghosts with a story which is firmly believed and told by many of the country people. For obvious reasons I suppress all names.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century, a very rich widower had a house in Smith Street. His first wife had left many small children, to whom in her lifetime she had been devoted, and spent many hours of her day in the nursery. The widower, after a short interval, married again, a young, pretty, and frivolous girl, who utterly neglected her step-children. Then the spirit of his first wife came back for a short time every morning, and washed and dressed them, the curtains of their beds were found pushed back in the mornings, and her silk dress was heard rustling up the stairs, and the children used to say “Mamma dressed us.”[352]

A man residing on the north-west coast had a brother who was drowned whilst out fishing. This man, wishing to do his best for his brother’s family, was sore perplexed some years afterwards, as the family ran great risk of losing their property, owing to the absence of a title deed which he knew to have existed, but which unfortunately had not been registered.

One day, when out fishing, he was greatly surprised to see his brother’s boat coming full sail close to him and just rounding to, with his brother at the tiller, and exclaimed:--“La! te v’lo et ta femme qu’est r’mariaïe!” (Lo! there you are and your wife married again!) The answer he received was:--“Le papier que tu trache est dans un taï endret sus la poutre,” (the paper you are looking for is in such a room, on the beam). Immediately everything disappeared.

Arrived ashore, he searched in the place indicated and found the missing document.[353]

[347] On referring to the Bonamy pedigree, the only Helier Bonamy who appears to have owned Les Câches, is a “Hellier, fils Pierre.” Peter Bonamy being a Jurat in 1548. Helier does not seem to have borne the best of reputations, for Nicholas Bermis writes of him to Bishop Horn: “Guernsey, December 13, 1575. He is a disorderly character, notorious for impiety and obstinacy.… Finally publicly excommunicated from the commune of the Church of God and of His Saints and given over to Satan until he should repent.”--_Zurich Letters_, Vol. II., p. 224.

[348] Even into the nineteenth century the old ladies would tell you how they walked home, lit by a three-candled lantern from “the Assemblys” and how the last dance was always given to the favourite partner, so that he might have the privilege of accompanying them.

[349] From Miss C. Tardif, who was told the story by her grandmother.

[350] Collected by Miss E. Le Pelley.

[351] Collected by Miss E. Le Pelley.

[352] From Mrs. Le Patourel, and also told to Miss Le Pelley by an old woman at St. Pierre-du-Bois.

[353] From John de Garis, Esq., of the Rouvêts, whose father was told the story by the man himself.

APPENDIX B. Witchcraft.

Referred to on page 386.

MARIE PIPET.

There are many stories still told and firmly believed by the country people, of Marie Pipet, who was a noted “sorcière“ of the early part of the nineteenth century. She came of a race of witches and wizards, thus described in Redstone’s _Guernsey and Jersey Guide_, by Louisa Lane Clarke, (Second Edition, 1844), p. 86.

“On the road past St. Andrew’s Church, one of the lanes to the right leads to the village called “Le Hurel,”[354] a collection of mere huts; rude, dirty looking cottages, but remarkable from the people who tenant it. They are a kind of half gipsy, half beggar race, bearing the name of Pipet; and kept totally distinct from every other family, because no person would intermarry with them upon any consideration. Their appearance and features are quite unlike the rest of the Guernsey peasantry, who are extremely good-looking, clean, and active; whereas those Pipets may be found basking in the sun, with anything but a prepossessing exterior. The country people consider them as wizards and witches, and, at certain times of the year, about Christmas, when they are privileged to go round and beg for their _Noël_, or “_irvières_” (New Year’s gifts), no one likes to send them away empty handed for fear of the consequences to themselves, their cattle, or their children.” Even to this day the country people have a great dread of “Les Pipiaux.”[355]

My father’s old nurse, Margaret Mauger, told me that the cook at old Mr. Fred Mansell’s, of the Vauxbelets, (about the year 1850), was a great friend of hers, and told her that one day Marie Pipet came into the Vauxbelets kitchen, and demanded some favour which was refused. “_Tu t’en repentiras_,” she said, and went out of the door and sat on the adjoining hedge to await developments. Meanwhile the sirloin which was being cooked for Mr. Mansell’s dinner refused to be cooked! For hours she turned it round and round on the jack in front of the fire. The heat had apparently no effect on it, and it was as raw as when she first put it there. Finally, in despair, the cook went to her master, and told him what had happened. So he sent for Marie Pipet, and told her if she did not disenchant his dinner she would spend the night in gaol, (he was a Jurat of the Royal Court). With a curtsey she replied that if he would go into his kitchen he would find his sirloin ready for eating, and, at that moment, the cook declared, it suddenly turned brown!

There are many stories told of Marie Pipet in St. Pierre-du-Bois. One old woman, Judith Ozanne, told Miss Le Pelley that Marie Pipet, “la sorcière,” once asked her grandmother, old Mrs. Ozanne, for some milk. This was refused her, so she prevented the cows from eating, and they were all pining away. So then her grandfather took his pitchfork, and, going straight to the witch, compelled her, under the fear of corporal punishment, to undo the spell.

Judith Ozanne also tells the following story of Marie Pipet, which she affirms is true. One day Marie took her corn to the Grands Moulins (the King’s Mills) to be ground. The two young men who were in charge of the mill said “Oh dear no, they were not going to grind her corn,” and so she returned home, but the mill-stones turned round and round and round so quickly that no corn would grind, and nothing would stop them, so they had to call back Marie Pipet and promise to grind her corn for her, and, as soon as her corn was put in, the millstones worked as usual.

Mr. Métivier gives a story of Marie Pipet which was current in his day, in his _Souvenirs Historiques de Guernesey_.

“The incomparable Marie, so dreaded by the millers of the King’s Mills, because she often amused herself by unhinging our mills, rests in peace on the good side (au bon côté) of the Castel churchyard.[356] It is firmly believed, and frequently told, how she, and other members of her family, could metamorphose themselves as “cahouettes”--red-legged choughs. One day, in the form of one of these birds, she was discovered in a cow stable, and run through the thigh by the proprietor of the stable, with his pitchfork. The bird managed to escape, but the woman Marie Pipet was obliged to keep her bed for six months with a terrible and mysterious wound in her leg, by which of course the metamorphosis was proved.”[357]

Possibly a bird of such evil omen, having red legs, accounts for the fact that to this day our country people tell you that all witches who go to dance at the Catioroc wear red stockings.[358]

All witches are supposed to be endowed with the faculty of keeping the person they have bewitched walking--walking, for hours perhaps, in a circle, to which they cannot find a clue.

Marie Pipet, one day being offended with a man, made him walk backwards and forwards one whole night between the Vauxbelets and St. Andrew’s Church.[359]

[354] _Hure_, _Hurel_, and _Huret_, all frequently met with as place-names in Guernsey, mean “rocky ground.”--Métivier’s _Dictionnaire_.

[355] The Guernsey people have a way of making plurals of many words ending in “et” or “ert” or “el,” by substituting “iaux,” as:--Pipets = Pipiaux, Robert (a very common surname) Robiaux, Coquerel = Coqueriaux, bouvet, bouviaux, touffet, touffiaux.

[356] In Guernsey the south side of our churchyard was “le bon côté.” The north side, (according to the old Norse mythology, where hell and its attendant demons were situated in the _north_) was reserved for criminals, suicides, etc.

[357] The “Cahouettes” or red-legged choughs, have always, according to Mr. Métivier (see his _Dictionnaire_, art. “Cahouettes”), played a prominent rôle in the Néo-Latin mythology. According to the Council of Nismes, 1281, witches and wizards metamorphosed themselves into “Cahouets” and “Cahouettes.” Raphaël, Archbishop of Nicosia, capital of the island, excommunicated all _cahouets_ and _cahouettes_, as well as all who maintained and encourage games of chance.

[358] From Margaret Mauger, who also said that in her youth if one met an old woman in the town wearing red stockings, it was always said “_V’là une des sorcières du Catioroc!_” In Holbein’s _Crucifixion_, 1477, now at Augsberg, a devil which carries off the soul of the impenitent thief has the head of an ape, bat-wings, and _flaming red legs_.

[359] From Margaret Mauger.

THE WIZARD OF SARK.

About the end of the eighteenth century there lived in Sark a very notorious wizard called Pierre de Carteret. An old Sark woman called Betsy Hamon, now Mrs. de Garis, has given Miss Le Pelley, whose servant she is, the following particulars concerning him:--

Pierre de Carteret, called “le vieux diable,” lived in Sark. He always worked at night, and when the fishermen passed by his house at night they heard him talking to the little devils who worked for him. They could not understand, for it was the devil’s language they talked. He built a boat in a barn in one morning, and the Sark people were amazed to see it launched in the Creux harbour. This was Black Art, for the boat was too large to go out of the door, and also his house was not quite close to the sea.

He was very rich, partly owing to his having no expenses, as he had no workmen to pay, everything being done for him by these little devils, and partly from his first wife, whom he courted in France. Pierre went over to France alone, in a small open boat. The girl he married, who was herself a lady, thought he was of gentle blood. After he married her he was most cruel, and spoilt all her furniture. For instance, her parlour was mirrored from ceiling to floor, and he brought her horses up into the room, and the poor things became excited when they saw other horses, and kicked the looking-glasses and broke all the other furniture. This wife died of a broken heart, and for his second wife Pierre married a Sark girl, little more than a child.

If Pierre wanted his hedges repaired he simply gave the order to his little helpers, and the next morning they were done. Pierre’s daughter--“la petite Betsy”--used to feed the cow at night in the churchyard, and she was seen returning home at daybreak with the cow, looking thoroughly well fed. Consequently nobody would buy butter or milk from him.

When Pierre had nothing else to give his workers to do they used to forge money, and their hammers could be heard by the passers by.[360]

Old Mrs. Le Messurier, in Sark, also confirmed a great many of these details in 1896. She said he, Pierre de Carteret, was well known to be a famous sorcerer. He had pictures of the Devil on his walls, and little images of Satan were found in his house after his death, and promptly burnt by the incomers. He could build a boat, alter a loft, or build a wall in a single night, because he had “des esprits malins” to help him. He was an excessively bad man and used to smuggle ball and ammunition to France, to help the French against the English in the war. The English found him out and came over with bayonets to take him, but he hid down his well, and could not be found.

Out at St. Pierre-du-Bois they still tell the tale of a Frenchman, who was a “sorcier,” and in league with the Devil.

One day he entered a farm kitchen, where he found all the young people playing a game, in which they used a number of doubles, placed in a jam pot, for counters.

He said “I can turn all those doubles into mice.”

They did not believe him, so he took the pot, shook it, and turned it upside down on the table. Then he turned to one of the girls standing by and said “Now, take up that pot.” She did so, and numbers of mice ran out of it, all over the table, with their tails cocked up!

Of the same man another story is told. One morning he wanted some of his neighbours to play cards with him, but they said they could not spare the time, for they must weed their parsnips.

He replied--“If you will come, your parsnips shall be weeded by dinner time.”

So they played, but one man looked up, and saw through the window numbers and numbers of little demons weeding very quickly, and by mid-day the work was done.[361]

Mr. J. Linwood Pitts has also collected two stories bearing on the subject of the transformation of witches, both of which were related to him in perfect good faith by reliable witnesses.

Many years ago a Guernsey gentleman went over to Sark. While sitting on the cliffs above the Havre Gosselin he noticed a flock of birds, principally wild duck, circling round and round. He fired off his musket, but did not succeed in hitting any of them, or even, much to his astonishment, in frightening them away.

He thought there must be something mysterious about them, as wild duck are generally such shy birds, so he consulted a noted wizard, who told him that if he loaded his musket with a piece of silver having a cross on it it would take effect on any transformed witch. So he went over to Sark again with this silver bullet, and on returning to the Havre Gosselin again saw the birds. He picked out one, which seemed the finest of the flock, and apparently their leader. On firing at it he succeeded in winging it, though it disappeared, and he thought it had escaped.

That evening, on the return boat to Guernsey, a girl on board, who used to pay almost daily visits to Sark, and about whom there were many mysterious reports, appeared with a bad wound in her hand, about which she would vouchsafe no explanation, but looking very white and frightened. The man identified her in his own mind as the mysterious bird, but did not speak about the affair till long after.

[360] From Miss Le Pelley, who wrote it down word for word as it was said.

[361] Collected by Miss Le Pelley.

THE WITCH OF ALDERNEY.

A very respectable Alderney man used to tell old Mr. Barbenson, Wesleyan minister, about a noted Alderney witch.

He declared that one night, passing by her cottage, he looked in, and saw a blue flame blazing up, and the witch dancing in the middle of it, surrounded by little devils, also dancing.

“But how do you know that they were devils?” Mr. Barbenson asked:--“Because they were just like the pictures of Apollyon in my old _Pilgrim’s Progress_” was the reply. Another day, he said that, coming home from milking, he saw two large black birds revolving over his head. They both sank, almost at his feet, behind a small furze bush. Suddenly this woman rose up from behind the same bush, and ran away. He said the bush was made too small to hide the woman, and that it was quite impossible that she could have been concealed there. The man vouched for the truth of these stories.

Mr. Pitts has also kindly allowed me to include the following extract from an old MS. which was communicated to him by Mr. E. P. Le Feuvre, a gentleman of Jersey extraction, residing in London, and connected with some of our Guernsey families.

He also gave me the details of a remarkable local witch story, which he had found in a curious old MS. in the library of Dr. Witham, of Gordon Square, London. This MS., which is in two volumes folio, is entitled ‘_Icones Sacræ Gallicanæ et Anglicanæ_,’ and contains seventy biographies of ministers and clergymen. Among them is a sketch of the life of the Rev. Daniel Fautrat, of Guernsey, who was minister of the Câtel parish; then of Torteval; and who afterwards, in 1633 (in the reign of Charles I.), succeeded Mr. de la Marche, at St. Peter-Port. This MS. is by a John Quick (born 1636--died 1706). There were two Fautrats, Helier and Daniel, father and son, and the biographer somewhat confuses them.[362] This story of the witch--who was burnt alive in the Bordage during Daniel Fautrat’s ministry at the Town Church--is a very curious one, and is a decided acquisition to the witch-lore of the island. It is as follows:--

THE WITCH AND THE RAVEN.

“After Monsieur [Daniel] Ffautrat had spent some years at Torteval and St. Andrew’s [Guernsey] he was, upon the death of Monsr. de la Marche, called to succeed him in ye Pastorall charge of St. Peters Port, [in 1634, in the reign of Charles I.] which is ye Towne of this Island, a fair Markett Towne and priviledged with ye Sessions of ye whole Island, where all caisses Civill and Criminall are finally tryed and determined in ye Playderoye,[363] by ye Bayliffe and Jurates.

“During his ministry in this Towne, and about ye year 1640 [Charles I.] there happened a most remarkable event. Divines do say that it is a very rare thing for witches under Gospell Light to repent; and some have given this reason of their assertion--because they have committed that unpardonable sin against ye Holy Ghost. I cannot tell, but that this following story seems to confirm it.

“There was a certain woman of this Island, above four-score years of age, who had been imprisoned, indicted and found guilty upon full evidence, of that abominable sin of witchcraft, and for it was condemned to death. She gave out confidently that she should not dye. However, she is carried from prison to ye appointed place of Execution to be burnt alive.

“All the way, as she was going thither, a great Black Raven was seen hovering, and heard croaking after a dolefull manner over her head, till she came to ye stake. And now, while they be fastening ye chain, she begs of one of the Bystanders to give her a clew of thread, which having received, she fastens one end of it to her girdle, and taking ye other end, she flings it with her hand up into ye aire. The Raven, stooping down, catcheth at it with his Beak, and, mounting, carrys with him ye old witch from ye bottom of ye vale up into ye air. A young man of that Island, seeing her flying, being on ye top of ye hill, flings his Halbard so exactly betwixt her and ye raven, that it cuts ye thread asunder, and ye old witch is taken by him, but with many fearfull imprecations upon him, she vomityng out whole cartloads of curses against him.

“However, she is once again carryed down to ye stake, and there accordingly executed, being burnt to ashes. But this poor officious wardour, whose name was Gosslin--ye holy wise providence of God so permitting it--felt a short time after, ye bitter consequences of her rage and dying curses; for he grew sick of an incurable disease, lying under most exquisite torments, of which he could never be relieved by any means or medicines, till having languished some years he was at last released from his sufferings by death.”

“A girl was very ill, and the doctor did not know what was the matter with her, and, though he tried many remedies, none succeeded. One day a friend from the Vale, their native parish, called, and told the girl’s mother privately that the girl was bewitched, and that it was Mrs. ---- who had done it, but that he could, with certain herbs, boiled in a

## particular manner, cause the witch to die, and then the girl would be

well. The herbs were boiled, and a few days afterwards the witch died. During the funeral the girl jumped joyfully out of bed, quite well. This occurred within the last twenty years.”

“One day, two boys, well on in their teens were chaffing an old witch, when suddenly she got very angry, threw dust in the air, and gabbled some words very quickly. The boys went home and found they were covered with vermin. They were near neighbours. One of the boys was so angry that he took his gun and went to the old witch and said, “Now, take away the vermin, or I shoot you,” and he levelled his gun at her. They parleyed a little, but the boy was so determined that the witch suddenly took fright, threw dust in the air, repeated some words, and the vermin disappeared. The other boy was covered for three days.”[364]

The following story illustrating the widespread belief in these special powers of witches and wizards was told me by Mrs. Le Patourel, of St. Martin’s, who was told the story by the heroine, and who vouched for its authenticity.

Mrs. Le Patourel’s mother-in-law was a Miss Mauger, of Saints, very handsome and very well-to-do. In fact, she and her sister went to school in England, which was considered very grand in those days. On her return from school she, her sister, and a friend, all went together to one of the country dances then frequently held in the various parishes. They all “held their heads very high,” dressed very well, and would only dance with those whom they considered the “best” partners. They were dressed on this occasion in silk dresses with large white lace collars and ruffles. At the beginning of the dance, as they were all sitting in a row together, some man came up and asked each of them in turn to dance, but they all considered him unworthy of the honour, and each refused to dance with him. As the last refused he turned on his heel muttering that they would repent their rudeness. A minute or two later one of the girls leaned forward and cried to her sister, “Oh, Marie, what have you got there?” and pointed to an insect crawling on her lace. Covered with confusion the girl killed it, only to see swarms more crawling after it. The other two girls then discovered to their horror that they were likewise covered with swarms of vermin, and covered with shame and confusion they all had hurriedly to leave the dance. For three days they all remained in this condition, and then the vermin disappeared as suddenly as they came.

“The shame of it I can never forget,” Mrs. Le Patourel says was the way her informant always ended the story. “But,” said Mrs. Le Patourel, “that is nothing to what people can do who use the bad books.”[365]

She thinks it is the French people who have brought these evil arts to Guernsey, and in proof of her theory told me this story which happened to one of her own friends, “who has told it to me many a time.”

A Guernsey farmer living in St. Saviour’s parish had a French manservant, who slept on the premises. Suspicion being aroused by his haggard looks he was watched, and seen to leave the house every night and not come back till the morning. When asked where he had been and what he had been doing he returned evasive answers. So one night his master determined to follow him. He tracked him across some fields till he reached the Catioroc, and there he saw him lie down in the middle of a field, and then, in a few moments, a clear, bluish flame, like the flame of a candle, was seen issuing out of his mouth, and wandering off like a will-o’-the-wisp across the fields. When the astonished farmer went up to the body he found it lying rigid and lifeless, and no amount of shaking or calling could make any impression on it. After some time the flame was seen returning, and settled on the man’s mouth, and there disappeared, and shortly after the man sat up, looking dazed and tired, and absolutely declined to answer any of the questions with which his master greeted him.

On pp. 305 to 351 (ante) are given various trials for witchcraft, which took place in Guernsey during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but Sir Edgar MacCulloch has not included the following, which I have found cited in an old MS. book compiled by Eleazar Le Marchant and Pierre Careye between the years 1728 and 1743.

“Le 26me Juillet 1594, pardevant Louis de Vick, baillif, et Messrs. Nicholas Martin, sen., Guillaume de Beauvoir, André Henry, Jean Andros, Jean de Sausmarez, Pierre de Beauvoir, Pierre Careye, William le Marchant, Nicholas Martin, jun., and François Allez, jurez.

“Marie Martin, alias Salmon, fille Osmond, deubment atteinte et convaincue d’avoir usé d’Art de Sorcelerie, dont elle a empoisonné, tourmenté et fait mourir jouxte sa propre et volontaire confession, Anne Careye[366], fem͠e de John de Vick, la fem͠e de Pierre Vodin, l’enfant de son oncle, Thomas Breton, l’enfant de John Briart, et deux enfants à Collas Nouell, et plusieurs bestes et autres maux, par elle commis par le dit art de Sorcelerie, comme apparoist par les procédures et enquestes sur ce passées. Est ajugée d’être aujourd’huy brulée tant que son corps soit reduit en cendres, et ses biens, meubles, et héritages confisquées à la Majesté de la Royne, et est com͠andé aux officiers de sa Majesté de voir la ditte execution être faitte, ainsi qu’ils en voudront répondre: et est après avoir en sur ceu l’advis et opinion de Henri de Beauvoir et John Effart, jurez.”

There are many other instances, which, did space permit, I could mention, of belief in witches and wizards, extending even down to the present day. Animals dying from no visible cause, bread turned sour and uneatable, wounds mysteriously inflicted and incurable by physicians, but at once healed by crossing running water, a woman sent mad by smelling a harmless-looking bouquet of flowers, and so on. Many involving the names of persons still living. For underneath the veneer of civilisation and education found in the island are the same old beliefs and superstitions, as deeply cherished and ingrained as they were in the days of Queen Elizabeth--“Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.”

In conclusion, I will give a few extracts respecting witchcraft from Elie Brevint’s note book. Elie Brevint was born in 1586, became minister of Sark in 1612, and died in 1674.

“Quelques uns tesmoignent avoir veu une nuée se lever d’Erm, et de là s’en aller sur le dongeon du Chasteau Cornet, où un certain Maugier depuis bruslé pour sortiléges estoit lors prisonnier, et ladite nuée s’estre dissipée et esvanouie sur le dit Chasteau, et que les bateaux pescheurs sur lesquels elle avoit passé avoyent cuide renversés.…”

“Histoire d’un juge, qui ne croyoit point qu’il y eust de sorciers; il advint qu’il luy mourut soudain plusieurs vaches et brebis. Pourtant depuis cette perte, laquelle il imputoit à belles personnes, il fist rigoureuse justice de sorciers.…”

“On dit que quelqu’un va à la graine de Feugère[367] quand par un livre de magie, ou par quelque autre voye il a communication avec le Diable, qui luy baille des poudres pour attenter et commettre diverses meschancetés, comme ouvrir serrures, violer femme et fille, &c., et faut bailler à ce m͠re pour ces drogues une beste vive, comme chien ou chat, autrement il poursuit N. pour le faire mourir.”

[362] The following is an abbreviated pedigree of the Fautrat family, showing what close connections there were between the leading families in Guernsey and Jersey before the wars of the Commonwealth, when--the islands taking different sides--was established a feud which has never properly been healed.

PIERRE FAUTRAT = … LE VAVASSEUR Took the oath of | allegiance to the | King of England | in Jersey the 19th| of October, 1545. | +------------------+ | Cardin Fautrat = Jenette Coquerel Settled in | Daughter and heiress Guernsey. | of Thomas Coquerel of | Guernsey and Jersey, and of | Jeanne de Vic, daughter | of Laurence de Vic | of Guernsey. +--------------+--------+--+--+--+-----------+ | | | | | | Jean = Bertranne Estur Other Children. Hellier =(1) Marthe Jurat and | Daughter of Rector of | Baudouin Lieut.-Bailiff| Nicholas Estur St. Martin’s | Daughter of the Royal | widow of Jersey. | and heiress Court of | André Monamy. Married first | of the Rev. Guernsey. | May 6th, 1576, | Nicolas Married in | secondly | Baudouin April, 1592. | October 23rd, | first Buried Feb. | 1623. Died in | Protestant 7th, 1644. | 1652. | Rector of +------------+-------+--------------------------+--+--+ | St. Peter | | | | | | Port, and Jean =(1) Marie de Cardin = Elizabeth Careye Other | of Marie | Beauvoir. Settled| Daughter of Children | daughter Ʌ in | Nicholas, | and heiress |(2) Elizabeth London.| Seigneur of | of the Rev. | Fondan | Blanchelande | Guillaume | daughter and | and Marthe | Maurice, | heiress of | De Soulemont. | Seigneur | Matthew | | de la | Fondan, Elizabeth Fautrat | Ripaudière | Seigneur de = | and first | Handois, Thomas Simon | Protestant | Jersey, and of the celebrated | Rector of | Elizabeth engraver and | St. | Le Marchant. medallist temp. | Helier’s, +---+------------+ Charles I. & II. | Jersey. | | |(2) Susanne Anne Elizabeth | Romeril, = = | widow of William Guillaume | the Rev. Le Marchant De Beauvoir, | Jean Pinel. de l’Hyvreuse. du Hommet. +---------------------------+----+--+--+ | | | | | Issue. O. S. P. Daniel =(1) Elizabeth Martin Other Rector of | Daughter and heiress Children. Torteval in | of Nicholas Martin of 1613, and St. | the Bosq and Marie Peter Port in | Hamelin. 1634. Married |(2) Marie Germain first, 2nd October, | widow of Pierre Careye. 1612, secondly in | 1636. Died in 1652. | +--+--+--+ | | | | Issue.

[363] The Court House used to be situated in the Plaiderie before the present Court House was built.

“About two centuries ago, public justice was administered in a building, which, like those still used in many country towns in England, was both Corn Market and Court House, which by a special ordinance was to be cleared by noon that the Market might commence; and after that a Court House was erected near Pollet Street, near a place called from the circumstance “La Plaiderie.” This, however, was soon found too small and inconvenient, and the present building was erected in 1799, at the expense of about £7000, paid by the States, and further improved in 1822.”--Redstone’s _Guernsey and Jersey Guide_, 2nd Edition 1844, p. 13.

[364] Collected by Miss E. Le Pelley in 1896.

[365] “I have heard of too many instances of this power of giving vermin being exercised to admit of doubt. The surprising part is the removal. I have not heard of a case for more than thirty years.”--_Note by John de Garis, Esq., of Les Rouvêts._

[366] John de Vick, King’s Procureur, son of Richard, married first, the 15th of March, 1579, Anne Careye, daughter of Nicholas Careye, Seigneur of Blanchelande, and Collette de la Marche. I do not know the date of her death, but he married, secondly, December 15th, 1594, Elizabeth Pageot, and their son, Sir Henry de Vic, Knight, Baronet, and Chancellor of the Garter, was one of the most distinguished Guernseymen in our history. He was buried in Westminster Abbey the 24th of November, 1672.

[367] Graine de Feugère (fougère) = Fern seed.

APPENDIX C. Charms and Spells.

Referred to on page 421.

A very old lady remembers, when a child, seeing some small bits of stick, shaped like slate-pencils, which old women wore sewn up in their stays as charms against witchcraft, on the homœopathic principle, for they called them “_Des Bouais de Helier Mouton_,” Helier Mouton being himself a noted sorcerer.

When I mentioned this to Sir Edgar he told me that a hundred years ago a man named Colin Haussin was put in the stocks for witchcraft and using “_des petits bouais_.”

The following charms, etc., were collected for me in 1896-7, as still current in the parish of St. Pierre-du-Bois, by Miss E. Le Pelley.

ST. THOMAS’ DAY.

If a girl wishes to know whom she will marry, on the eve of St. Thomas’ Day she puts her shoes in the form of a T under her bed, and says, in getting in:--

_“Saint Thomas, Saint Thomas,_ _Le plus court, le plus bas,_ _Fais moi voir en m’endormant_ _Celui qui sera mon amant,_ _Et le pays, et la contrée._ _Où il fait sa demeurée,_ _Et le métier qu’il sait faire._ _Devant moi qu’il vienne faire._ _Qu’il soit beau ou qu’il soit laid_ _Tel qu’il sera je l’aimerai._ _Saint Thomas, fait moi la grâce_ _Que je le voie, que je l’embrasse.”_ _“Ainsi soit il.”_

MIDSUMMER EVE.

A girl makes a dumb cake and puts it on a gridiron over the fire, and watches it in silence between twelve and one o’clock at night, during which time the girl’s future husband arrives and turns the cake. The narrator tried this, and when the cake was cooked on one side she heard someone walking clumsily upstairs. She was so frightened that she threw the cake away and got into her mother’s bed and held tight on to her! Years afterwards she married and often recognised her husband’s step as the one she heard that Midsummer Eve. She very much repented having done it, for she said it gives the poor man so much suffering being under the charm.

Another charm for Midsummer Eve is this:--If a girl wishes to know the profession of her future husband she must melt some lead in an iron spoon between twelve and one o’clock at night, and pour it in a tumbler of cold water, and then watch the shapes it takes, such as a sword would denote that he would be a soldier, an anchor a sailor, etc., etc. Should she wish to know whether she is to be married or not, she must kill two pigeons, take out their hearts and roast them on skewers, also between twelve and one o’clock. If she is to be married she will see her intended, if she is not to be, some men will bring in a coffin. There must be perfect silence the whole time. It once happened that, as a girl was doing it, a coffin appeared. She screamed aloud, and the men came up to her and began to put her in the coffin. But fortunately for her she fainted, and was quiet, and the men with the coffin could go away as they came.

Another charm against witchcraft is “_vif argent_” or quicksilver, but camphor, white salt, or heather, are all good. The charm must be put in a small cotton or linen bag, two inches long by one and a half inch wide, and attached by a ribbon round the neck, so that the charm rests above the heart. Red salt is used by witches in their incantations.

The following written charm was lent me to copy by Mr. Guille, one of the founders of the Guille-Allès Library. It is in the form of a letter, and he told me, when he was a boy, a copy existed in almost all the old Guernsey farm houses.[368] I have transcribed it verbatim, with all its faults of spelling, punctuation, etc.

L’ETTRE MIRACULEUSE.

“Trouvé depuis peut par un Etudians au pied d’un Crusifix Miraculeux de la Ville d’Arrase Ecritte en Lettres d’Or de la propre main de notre Sauveur et Redempteur Jesus Christ.

JESUS--MARIE.

Les Dimanches vous ne ferez aucune œuvre n’y travail sur peine d’être maudits de Moy. Vous yrez à l’Eglise et priez Dieu qu’il vous fasse Misericorde et qu’il vous pardonne vos pêchés. Je vous ai donné six jours de la semaine pour travaille, et au septième me servir et vous Reposer ayant entendu le Service divin. Vous ferez la charité et vous donnerez de vos biens aux pauvres et vos champs seront fertille et vous serez remplis de Benediction. Au contraire si vous ne croyez à la presente l’Ettre Malediction viendra sur vous et sur vos Enfants, et vos Bestiaux seront maudits, je vous envoierez Guerre, Peste, et Famine et Douleur, et l’Angoisse de Cœur, et pour Marque de ma juste colère et dure Vengeance vous voirez signes prodigieux dans les Astres et Elements avec grands tremblements de Terre. Vous jeunerez cinq Vendredis en l’honneur des Cinq Plaies qui iai souffert pour vous sauver sur l’Arbre de la Croix. Vous donnerez cette l’Ettre sans aucun interêt que celuy de ma Gloire. Ceux qui murmuront sur cette L’Ettre seront aussy maudits et confis; qui la tiendra dans la maison sans la publier sera aussy maudits au Jour Terrible Epouvantable du Jugement. Mais s’y vous gardez mes comandements et pareillement ceux de ma Sainte Eglise faisant une veritable penitence vous aurez la Vie Eternelle. Celuy qui la lira ou publiera ycelle est écrite de Ma Sacré Main et dictes de Ma Sacrée Bouche. S’il a com͠is autant de Pêchés qu’il y a de Jours en l’an ils luy seront Pardonnés étant veritablement constrit, se confaisant, et satisfaisant au prochain. Sy on luy a fait tort. Sy vous ne croyez Pieusement en Ycelle Lettre je vous envoirez des Bestes Monstreuses qui dèvoreront vous et votres Enfants. Bienheureux sera celuy qui prendra une copie de cette L’Ettre, qui la portera sur Soi, qui la lira, ou fera lire ou la gardera en sa Maison. Jamais aucun Feu Malin, on autre feu ni foudre ne la touchera. Et toutes Feme enceinte qui sur Elle qui la lira ou fera lire en Bonne intention etant en Travail d’Enfans sera incontinent heureusement délivré. Gardez mes comandements et ceux de Ma Sainte Église Catolique, et vous serez bien heureux.

Avec Aprobation et Permission de Superieur de la Ville d’Arrase.

Nous Vicaire Generale certifions avoir lut la presente Copie et nous n’avons rien vus qu’il ne soit Utile et Capable de faire réussir le Pêcheur dans la Voie du Salut.”

“À NICHOLAS GUILLE.”

I will conclude by giving an instance of “Folk Medicine” which was sent me the other day by one of the most prominent of our local physicians.

“As you are interested in Guernsey Folk-Lore I send you the following:--

A patient of mine at St. Pierre-du-Bois suffered from an affection of the brain which has led to total loss of sight. It was supposed by the wise people around her that she was suffering from “Mal Volant,” so a black fowl was waved three times round her head on three successive days, to the accompaniment of a prayer (? incantation). On the ninth day the fowl ought to have died and the woman recovered.--As this did not happen they concluded that their diagnosis was wrong!

E. LAURIE ROBINSON

Melrose, Guernsey, December 11th, 1902.”

[368] In reading this proof Mr. de Garis notes that in his young days he had sometimes heard of a “Lettre d’Or” but had never seen the contents.

Index.

The sign (_a_) signifies that the reference may be found in the Editor’s Appendix; (_n_) that it refers to an Editor’s Footnote.

Adams Chapel, 270

Aerial Journey, 336

Agricultural Sayings, 535

Air, National, of Guernsey (_a_), 575

A la Claire Fontaine (_a_), 565

Alarm of Pulias, 473

Albert, Grand et Petit (_n_), 341-345

Alderney, How the Men Sowed and what came of it, 428; Witch of (_n_), 601

Alien Priories, 165

Andriou, 143

Ane, Chevaucherie d’ (_n_), 102

Animal Transformation, 361

Anne, Ste., 187

Appendix (_a_), 547

Apolline, Ste., 178, 181

April, First of, 47

Aquatic Customs, 59

Archbishop Mauger, 444

Armée d’Espagne (_a_), 558

August, 55

Autel de Dehus, 120; des Vardes, 112

Bakers, Fairy, 214

Baguette Divinatoire, 416

Ballad of Ivon de Galles, 450, 551 (_a_)

Baptism and Birth, 97

Barboue, 233

Barking, to prevent a Dog, 397

Bees put in mourning, 420

Belengier, Faeu, 226

Belfroi, 176

Belle Lizabeau (_n_), 147; Rose au Rosier Blanc (_a_), 563

Beilleuse, Fontaine de la (_n_), 192

Bête, Rue de la, 235; de la Tour, 235; de la Pendue, 248

Betrothals and Weddings, 99

Biche, Coin de la (_n_), 255

Birth and Baptism, 97

Bimerlue, Grand (_n_), 202

Biting, to prevent a Dog, 397

Bladebone, 380

Blanchelande, 187

Bleeding, to stop, 395

Bôdet, Chasse à, 237

Bœuf, Pied de, 153

Books, Magic, 340-350

Bonamy Family (_n_), 155, (_a_) 590

Bonhomme Andrelot, 143

Breton, Jean, 477

Brian and Cadwalla, 441

Brioc, St., 151, 166

Briser la Hanse, 77

Broken Kettle, 210

Building of the Castel Church, 220

Burial of the Drowned, 283

Burn, to cure a, 395

Caches, Les (_n_), 589

Cadwalla and Brian, 441

Careye, Mons. Nicholas, 526, 528

Casquet, 381

Castel Church, Building of, 220; Old Figure at, 129

Cat, Pel de, 201

Cat and the Fox, 437

Catel, Cotillon de Raché, 437

Catherine, Ste., 176

Catte, Mahy de la, 367

Catillon, 151

Catiorioc, (Trepied), 121

Caûbo, Witch of, 350

Celts, 403

Ceremonial Customs, 59

Chaire de St. Bonit, 148

Changeling, 219, 225

Chapel or Chapelle. Adams, 270; Ste. Apolline, 178; Dom Hue, 182; Epine, 183; Frères, 175; Lorette, 177; On the site of St. Martin’s Parish School (_n_), 197; Lihou, 151, 166, 171, 173, 343; Pulias, 181; St. Clair, 186; St. Germain, 187; St. Jean de la Houguette, 187; St. Malière or St. Magloire, 185; Sepulcre, 176; Ydolle de St. Jacques, 177

Charms, Spells, and Incantations, 387

Chasse à Bôdet, 237

Chevaucherie d’Ane (_n_), 102

Chevauchée de St. Michel, 59

Chien, Creux du, 225; Bôdu, 237

Children’s Games, 484

Chimquière, Gran’mère du (_n_), 134

Christmas and New Year, 33

Cimetières des Frères et des Sœurs, 175

Civic Customs, 59

Clair, St., 186

Clameur de Haro (_a_), 576

Claw, Devil’s, 157

Coin de la Biche (_n_), 255

Colin, Grand et Petit, 214

Colliche, Pont, 160

Consequences of a Love Spell, 412

Convent of Cordeliers, 174

Cotillon de Raché Catel, 437

Coq Chante, Roque où le, 149

Counter Charm for Witchcraft, 403

“Counting Out” Rhymes, 485

Countrywoman and the Witch, 338

Cradle Songs, 494

Creux, du chien, 225; des Fâïes, 123; des Fées, 137; Mahié, 138

Cromlechs, 110

Cromlech at L’Ancresse (_n_), 134

Customs, Aquatic, 58; Civic, 59, 89; Ceremonial, 89-106; Festival, 19-58

Cuckoo Rhymes, 504

Cure of Burns, 395; Erysipelas, 402; Vives or Gripes in a Horse, 396; Warts and Wens, 400

Dame au Voile, 372

Dame, Notre, de Lihou, 171; de Marais, 166; de la Perrelle, 179

Damèque, Seigneur de (_a_), 585

Dancing Rhymes, 496

Deaths and Funerals, 103

De Garis Pedigree (_n_), 522

Déhus, Autel de, 120

Délaissance, 432

De la Rue, Collas, 312

Demons and Goblins, 226

Demon and Duke Richard, 443

Désorceleur, Désorcelleresse, 300

Devil, The, 148, 154, 157, 159, 257; Recent Appearance of, 269; and the Tailor, 266

Devil’s Claw, 157

Diable, Pont du, 158

Divining Rod, 414

Dix Paroisses, Filles des (_n_), 508

Dog, to prevent from Barking or Biting, 397

Dole of Loaves at Le Laurier, 249

Dom Hue, 182

Drowned, Burial of the, 283

Duck and the Miller, 365

Duke Richard and the Demon, 443

Easter, 46

Echelle, 245

Editor’s Appendix (_a_), 546

Eeling, Sand, 85

Enchanted Horse, 252

Enchantments, to avert, 394

Epine, Chapelle de l’, 183

Erysipelas, Cure of, 402

Espagne, Armée d’ (_a_), 558

Family, Bonamy (_n_), 155, (_a_) 590; de Garis (_n_), 522; Fautrart (_n_), 602; Henry (_n_), 179

Faeu Belengier, 226

Fâïes, Palette ès, 124; Creux des, 137; Tombé du Rouai des, 200

Fairy Bakers, 214; Neighbours, 211

Fairies, 123-129, 198-225; and the Midwife, 209; and the Nurse, 207; Invasion of Guernsey by the, 204

Falla, Jean, and the Witches, 376

Farm Servant and the Weeds, 438

Fautrart Family (_n_), 602

Festival Customs, 19

Filles des Dix Paroisses (_n_), 508

Figures, Old, at St. Martin’s and the Castel, 129

Fingers, Names of, 488

Fire, to stop a, 395

First of April, 47; Sunday in Lent, 44

Fishbone in the Throat, to Remove, 397

Flleur de Jaon, 286

Flouncing, 99

Folk Medicine and Leech Craft, 422

Fontaine de la Beilleuse (_n_), 192; A la Claire (_a_), 565; des Corbins, 191; Fleurie, 191; Gounebec, 191; Lesset, 191; Mal de la, 190; des Navets (_n_), 192; St. George, 190, 193, 197; St. Germain, 187; St. Martin, 191; Vaulaurent, 191

Footprints on Stone, 151

Fortune Telling, 385

Fouaille, Lit de, 51

Fox and the Cat, 437

Frères, Cimetière and Chapelle des, 175; Pies, 355

Friday, Good, 45

Friquet du Gibet, 245

Funerals and Deaths, 103

Galles, Yvon de, 450, 551 (_a_)

Game, to prevent a Sportsman killing, 396

Galères, 245

Gallows, Jersey, 430

Games, Children’s, 484

Garce, Grand’, 284

Gaultier de la Salle (_a_), 237-247

George, St., 166, 192, 194, 197

Germain, St., 187

Ghosts, 275, 281; of La Petite Porte (_a_), 581

Ghost of Mr. Blondel (_a_), 578

Gibet, des Fâïes, 128, (_n_), 222; Friquet du, 245

Glaneur (_a_), 570

Goblins and Demons, 226

Good Friday, 45

Grand Albert (_n_), 341-345; Bimerlue (_n_), 202; Colin, 214; Sarrazin, 119

Grand’ Garce, 284; Querrue, 40

Gran’mère du Chimquière (_n_), 134

Grentmaisons, Spectre of, 247

Gripes in a Horse, to cure, 396

Guernseyman Three Centuries Ago, 23

Guernsey National Air (_a_), 575; Songs and Ballads (_a_), 549; Lily, 221

Hanse, Briser la, 77

Haro, Clameur de (_a_), 576

Hélène, Ste., 187

Henry Pedigree (_n_), 179

Herodias, 232

Hidden Treasures, 228

Historical Reminiscences, 441

Hoc, 332

Holy Chapels, 165; Island, 62; Wells, 188

Horse, Enchanted, 252; with vives or gripes, to cure, 396

How the Jerseymen attempted to carry off Guernsey, 429

How the men of Alderney sowed, and what came of it, 428

Incantations, 387

Inscribed Stone, 151

Invasion of Guernsey by the Fairies (_n_), 204

Jacques, St., 176

Jaon, Flleur de, 286

Jean Breton, 477

Jean Falla and the Witches, 376

Jean, Gros Jean (_a_), 574

Jean, St., 187

Jersey Gallows, 430

Jerseymen’s Attempt to carry off Guernsey, 429

Jonquière, 51

Journey, Aerial, 336

Julien, St., 169

Kettle, Broken, 210

King’s Evil, 425

La Moye Estate, Stone on (_n_), 121

L’Ancresse, Cromlech at (_n_), 134

Laurier, Dole of Loaves at Le, 249; Mon Beau, 496

Legend of St. George’s Well, 194; of the Ville au Roi, 237

Leech Craft, 422

Le Marchant Family (_n_), 522

Le Tocq, Jean, 459, 525, 552

Lent, First Sunday in, 44

L’Ettre Miraculeuse (_a_), 610

Lihou, Chapel of, 146, 166; Notre Dame de, 171-173; Priory at, 342; Lady of, 151

Lily, Guernsey, 221

Lit de Fouâille, 51

Lizabeau, Belle (_n_), 147

Loaves, Dole of, at Le Laurier, 249

Local Customs, Aquatic, Civic, 59-89; Ceremonial, 89-106; Festival, 19-58

Local Nick-Names, 506-7

Longue Roque, 124; Veille, 30

Lorette, Chapelle de la, 177

Lorreur, Le (_a_), 553

Lovers’ Leap, 161

Love Spells, 406; Consequences of, 412

Love, to cause a Person to, 395

Madeleine, La, 187

Magic Books, 340-350

Magloire, St., 185

Mahié, Creux, 138

Mahy de la Catte, 367

Martin, St., 129

Maidens at St. George’s Well, 195

Mangi, Roque, 147

Man in the Moon (_n_), 506; who was Bewitched, 373

Marguerite s’est assise (_a_), 568

Marais, Notre Dame des, 166

Mares, Our Lady, 166

Marie Pipet (_a_), 596

Marie, Ste., 179

Maritime Sayings, 538

Mauger, Archbishop, 444

Medicine, Folk, 422

Mermaids, 223

Meunière (_a_), 569

Michel, St., 59, 160

Midsummer, 50; in Jersey, 54; in Sark, 53; Eve (_a_), 609

Midwife and the Fairies, 209

Miller and the Duck, 365

Miraculeuse, L’Ettre (_a_), 610

Mon Beau Laurier, 496

Moon, Man in the (_n_), 506

Moulin de l’Echelle, 245

Mourains, 288

Mourioche (_n_), 252

Moye Estate, Stone on La (_n_), 129

Names of the Fingers, 488

National Air of Guernsey (_a_), 575

Natural Objects and their Superstitions, 137

Neighbours, Fairy, 211

New Year and Christmas, 93

Nick-Names, 506-7

Navets, Fontaine des (_n_), 192

Notre Dame de Lihou, 171; des Marais, 166; de la Perrelle, 179; de la Roche (_n_), 147

Nursery Rhymes and Children’s Games, 484

Nurse and the Fairies, 207

Old Figures in the Churchyards of St. Martin’s and the Castel, 129

Old House at St. George (_a_), 580

Ormering, 84

Our Lady Mares, 166

Palette ès Fâïes, 124

Parish Nick-Names, 507

Paroisses, Filles des Dix (_n_), 508

Patris Family (_n_), 155, 590

Peace, to make, 395

Pedigrees, De Garis (_n_), 522; Fautrat (_n_), 602; Henry (_n_), 179

Pel de Cat, 201

Pendue, Bête de la, 248

Perrelle, Notre Dame de la, 179

Petit Albert (_n_), 341, 315; Bonhomme Andrelot, 143; Colin, 213

Pied de Bœuf, 153

Pies, Frères, 355

Pipet, Marie (_a_), 596

Piscatory and Maritime Sayings, 538

Play, to win at, 395

Poems, Secular (_n_), 563

Pont Colliche, 160; du Diable, 158; St. Michel, 160

Poor Box, Robber of the, 282

Popular Notions about Fairies, 198; Sayings, 521

Poulain de St. George, 192

Pouquelaie, 110

Prehistoric Monuments and their Superstitions, 109

Preservative against Spells, 394

Prior, Priory, alien, 165; of Lihou, 341, 343; of St. Michel du Valle, 171

Prophetic Warnings and Ghosts, 275

Proverbial stories, 432; Sayings, 529

Proverbs, Weather Sayings, etc., 509

Pulias, 181; Alarm of, 473

Querrue, Grand’, 40

Quick-Silver a Protection against Witchcraft, 397

Qui Veut Ouïr (_a_), 566

Raché Catel, Cotillon de, 437

Raté, Le, 436

Raven and the Witch (_a_) 602

Recapture of Sark, 466

Recent Appearance of the Devil, 269

Reminiscences, Historical, 441

Rhymes, “Counting Out,” 485; Nursery, 484; Dancing, 496; Cuckoo, 504

Richard, Duke, and the Demon, 443

Robber of the Poor Box, 282

Roche, Notre Dame de la (_n_), 147

Rocks and Stones, 143

Rod, Divining, 414

Roland, Mons., 526

Roque, Balan, 113; Longue, 124; des Fâïes, 127; où le Coq Chante, 149, 214; qui Sonne, 114; Màngi, 147;

Rouai des Fâïes, Tombeau du, 200

Roussé, Collas, 361

Rue de la Bête (_n_), 235

Sabbath (Witches’), 295

Salle, Gaultier de la (_n_), 246

Sanbule, 249

Sand Eeling, 85

Saint, or Sainte.--Anne, 187; Appolline, 179; Bonit, Chaire de, 148; Brioc, Chapel of, 166; Lady of, 151; Catherine, 176; Clair, 186; George, Chapel of, 166; Well of, 194; Poulain de, 192; Germain, 187; Hélène, 187; Jacques, Chapel of, 176; Julien, Hospice and Chapel of, 169; Jean de la Houguette, 187; Marie de la Perrelle, 179; Michel, Chevauchée de, 59; Pont, 160; Malière or Magloire, 185; Martin’s Churchyard, Old Figure of, 129; Thomas’ Day (_n_), 608

Sark, Recapture of, 466; Fisherman and the Devil (_n_), 274; Games, 500; Wizard of (_a_), 598

Sarrazin, Tombeau du Grand, 119; Château du Grand, 118

Satan, Outwitted, 258; and the Schoolmaster, 260-263.

Sayings, Agricultural, 535; Piscatory and Maritime, 538; Popular, 521; Proverbial, 529; Various, 539; Weather, 509

Secular Poems (_n_), 563

Seigneur de Damèque (_n_), 585; of St. George and the Désorcelleur, 405

September, 56

Sepulcre, Chapelle du, 176

Shrove Tuesday, 43

Sick Princess and the Wizard, 357

Si j’avais le Chapeau (_a_), 571

Sœurs, Cimetière des, 175

Songs, Cradle, 494, and Ballads (_a_), 549

Sorcerers, 287-393

Spectre of Les Grentmaisons, 247

Spectral Appearances, 234; Cortège, 252

Spells, 387, 390, 394, 406, 412

Stone on La Moye Estate (_n_), 129; Footprints on, 151; Inscribed, 150

Stones and Rocks, 143

Story Telling, 427

Sundays, in Lent, 44; in May, 47

Superstitions, Natural Objects, 137; Prehistoric Monuments, 109; Generally, 501

Superstitious Belief and Practice, 107

Tambours, Trois (_a_), 570

Tchi-co, la Bête de la Tour, 235

Throat, to remove a Fishbone from, 397

Thomas, St. (_n_), 409

Tombeau du Grand Sarrazin, 119

Tombé du Rouai des Fâïes, 200

Torteval Church, 197

Torture, 325

Tour, Bête de la, 235

To Cure a Burn, 395; Stop Bleeding, 395; Make Peace, 395; Stop a Fire, 395; Cause a Person to Love You, 395; Cause a Sorcerer to show himself, 393; Win at Play, 395; Avert Spells and Enchantments, 394; Remove a Spell, 390; Prevent a Dog from Barking or Biting, 397; Remove a Fish Bone from the Throat, 397; Cure a Horse that has Vives or Gripes, 396; Prevent a Sportsman from killing Game, 396

Transformation of Animals, 361

Transformed Wizard, 370

Treasures, Hidden, 228

Trepied, or the Catioroc, 121

Trials for Witchcraft, and Confessions of Witches, 306, 606 (_a_)

Trois Tambours (_a_), 570

Tuesday, Shrove, 43

Two Witches and two Cats (_a_), 370

Various Sayings, 539

Varou, 231

Veille, Longue, 30

Venez, Peuple Fidèle (_a_), 573

Ville au Roi, 237; ès Pies, 355

Vives in a Horse, to cure, 396

Voile, Dame au, 372

Vraicing, 78

Warnings and Ghosts, 275

Warts, Cure of, 400

Weather Proverbs (_n_), 545; Sayings, 509

Weddings and Betrothals, 99

Weeds and the Farm Servant, 438

Wells, Holy, and Chapels, 165

Wens, Cure of, 400

Witch and the Raven (_n_), 602; of Alderney (_n_), 601; in Disguise, 360; of the Ville-ès-Pies, 355; of Caûbo, 350; Foresight, 382; and the White Thorn, 413; Sabbath, 295; and two Cats (_a_), 370

Witchcraft, 289; Counter charm for, 403; Quicksilver, a Protection against, 397; Sabbath, 295, (_a_) 596

When it Snows, 492

White Witch, 300

Whitsuntide, 48

Win at Play, to, 395

Wizards and Witches, 331; Death, 347; on the West Coast, 346; Transformed, 370; and the Sick Princess, 357; of Sark (_a_), 598

Yvon de Galles, 450, 551 (_a_)

Ydolle de St. Jacques, 177

PRINTED IN GUERNSEY, BY FREDERICK CLARKE, STATES ARCADE.