Thomas Mancell witnessed that his wife having refused alms to Omont, their cow fell ill, and they were obliged to kill it. Jean Hamon, who flayed the cow, cut it at the shoulder, and “there issued a black beast as large as a little ‘cabot’ (a small fish). Its throat was such that one could easily insert the tip of one’s little finger, and it had two little wings” (“en sortit une beste noire, grosse comme un petit cabot, dans la gueule duquell on aurait bien mis le bout du petit doigt et avait deulx petites ailes.”)
Jean Le Feyvre, of the Mielles,[154] witnesseth that one morning he found Cécile, wife of Omont, near the Chapelle de l’Epine, where she was searching, he could not tell for what, and where she remained for a long while without his being able to perceive that she found anything, and she did not perceive that he was watching her; and he having asked her shortly afterwards whether it was she that he had observed at such an hour near the chapel, she denied it, and that afterwards he asked her again whether it was she who was in that neighbourhood, and she replied in the affirmative, and then he started fine rumours, (ung beau bruit) saying that she was dancing on the thorn which grows in the aforesaid neighbourhood.
Thomasse, wife of Collas Troussey, deposes that one night, her husband being on guard at the Castle, she was awakened by a frightful noise, like cats squalling, and she dared not cry out on account of Olivier Omont, who was sleeping in the same corridor as herself, though the miauling of the cats still continued. When her husband was returned from his patrol, she dared ask Omont if he had not heard the cats, to which he replied Yes, but there was nothing for her to be afraid of, that they would do her no harm. That another night, her husband being also there, she had heard Omont call “Cats! cats!” and on asking him if he had cats in his wallet (en son bisac,) he replied “No,” and that the noise seemed beneath where she lay, but that he was afraid that they would eat the fish that was on the table.
Olivier Omont, his wife and daughter, were all banished from the island.
An enquiry was held on Laurence L’Eustace, wife of Thomas Le Comte, suspected of being a witch.
Jean Hallouvris witnesses that for four years he has driven his cart. As the wheels passed close to Laurence she dropped several strings and twists of rushes (quelques colliers et nattes de pavie)[155] that she was carrying, at which she was very angry. Two days afterwards, one of his bullocks set off running as if it were mad, and then fell down stone dead, and the other bullock died the next day.
“High Street, 1850.”
Sketched from an Old Picture by the late Mr. A. C. Andros.
Pierre Machon deposes that he has heard Laurence swear “By God’s ten fingers” (“Par les dix doigts de Dieu”), and with oaths and blasphemies call devils to her assistance.
Christine, wife of Pierre Jehan, says that her first husband, Collas Henry, having had a quarrel with Laurence Le Comte, one of their children, aged two years, was taken with an illness which lasted for twelve months. When the attack first came on, he jumped high into the air, that, before being taken ill he walked very well, but that afterwards, all that year he crawled on his hands and knees. That, having had a quarrel with the said Laurence, and having put some curds to cool, (des caillebottes à refroidir), she found them the next day just like bits of rag (que de la mêque), and that on the following Monday the child was seized with terror, and cried out that someone was pulling his nose. That, as soon as she went to Laurence’s house, the child got better, but, on her return, fell ill again, and finally died.
Laurence L’Eustache, wife of Thomas Le Comte, was also banished from the island.
On the 17th of May, 1617, began the trial of Collette du Mont, widow of Jean Becquet, Marie, her daughter, wife of Pierre Massy, and Isebel Becquet, wife of Jean Le Moygne.
James Gallienne witnesses that one day, having quarrelled with Jean Le Moigne, husband of the aforesaid Isebell, the said Le Moigne said to him:—
“You are always seeking to pick quarrels with me, and you say that my wife is a witch, but before six months are over you will be very glad to come and implore me to help you;” that immediately his wife fell into a lingering illness, and, doubting not but that it was the effect of a spell, opened all the mattresses and found all kinds of filth and bits of feather, which he has showed to several people; and in some quite new pillows which he had at home he found a large quantity of worms. He says that about six years ago, one of his children being ill, he was putting a pillow under his head, found it hard, and, on unripping it, found it full of dirt. While they unsewed it they heard a flapping noise as of the wings of a cock, and the said child declared that he saw this cock; that, having shut all the doors, they tried to find what it really was, and that, having hunted and ransacked the house, they saw first a rat, then a weasel, which slipped through the holes of the pavement (sortit par les pertius de la dalle). And at the end of two or three days he was asked why he had beaten the said Isebell Becquet. He replied that he had not touched her, and soon after that he was advised to try whether she was a witch, by putting the key of his front door (de son grand huis) in the fire, which he did. When the said key had been nearly two days in the fire the said woman arrived at his house, without asking whether he were at home, and begged of him seven to nine (sept à neuf) things which he refused her, she wishing at all hazards to come in further (entrer plus outre) to see the sick child, which he would not allow.
Item. Deposeth that his wife having rebuked the said Isebell because her children annoyed those of the said Gallienne, she went away very vexed, and the next day one of his oxen broke its neck, his mare miscarried, and his wife was taken ill.
Item; that the children of the said Isebell said one day to the children of the said Gallienne, that if their mother was ill it was because she had spoken rudely; that some time afterwards, Mrs. Gallienne being in bed in her room, the door being shut and simply a sky-light (une luquerne sic, lucarne) open, she felt something like a cat, which, little by little, crept on her chest as she lay on her bed. Having shaken it to the ground, she heard one or two growls, on which, astonished, she began to threaten it that if it was a wizard or a witch she would cut it to pieces (que le couperoit en pièces), it returned by the said sky-light.
Thomas Sohier said that Jean Jehan having summoned him to come and make his will, he complained that the said Isebell was killing him for having refused to make a jacket for her son. That some little time afterwards James Gallienne, having a sick daughter, caused her bed to be unripped, out of which came a sort of animal like a rat (une manière de bête comme un rat), which hid itself in some wood and was hunted for throughout the house; that on the following day, having met the said Isebell, he noticed her face all torn (déchiré sic). On asking her the cause she said it was from “du mal d’Espagne,” (cantharides, the Spanish fly used for making blisters); that on that he asked James Gallienne if he had not beaten her, who replied in the negative; that, being the other day at the house of the said Gallienne, giving evidence to this, his wife fell down as if dead, and on returning to consciousness, said that she was bewitched.
Item. Testifies that in the bed of the aforesaid daughter (of Gallienne), were found twenty-one or twenty-two spells (sorcerons).[156]
Many other depositions told the same story. Oxen and calves died, cows and mares miscarried, sheep fell dead, children and women were taken ill, no cream was found on the milk, curds would not “make,” cows dried up, or only gave blood. Worms were bred in the beds, or even under the women’s caps. They were black at both ends, or sometimes had two heads. Frogs and black beasts (des bêtes noires) haunted the paths of the bewitched persons. Fountains were full of insects, black pimples appeared all over the bodies of the afflicted persons, and lice, in such abundance that they had to use a broom to sweep them away. On the witch being threatened the sick person recovered.
The trial was resumed on the 6th June, 1617.
Marie, wife of James Gallienne … deposed … Item; that for nearly ten years her eldest daughter Rachel had been bewitched; that, having unsewed her mattress, by which was some straw,[157] something was seen lurking in the said straw, and Jean Le Gallez, being present, said that it looked to him like a black cat, and sometimes like a cock, and then like a mouse, and then like a rat, that it—whatever it was—hid in some wood which was in the house, which was immediately rummaged and moved, but no one knew how to capture it (ne sçurent tant faire que de le prendre). That her husband saw it like a cock, and her daughter like a mouse; that on opening the mattress they found within it many spells (force sorcerons) and also beans with which were mingled black grains as if mildewed,[158] which beans or grains having been put in a porringer (une écuelle) in the presence of various women who were there, it dissolved in their presence, and they did not know what became of it (cela fondit en leur presence et ne sçurent que devint.) That the said Isabell, having come to the house at the end of two or three days, and asking for seven or nine sorts of things, and trying to force an entrance into the place where the child was lying ill, all which things were refused her by her husband, so she then went away, and her face was all cut; and went to her husband and said that she would not stay while Isebell Becquet was there, and she believes that she is a witch.
On the 4th of July, 1617, these three women, Collette Dumont, widow of Jean Becquet, Marie, her daughter, wife of Pierre Massy, and Isebell Becquet, wife of Jean le Moigne, were convicted by the Royal Court of Guernsey of having practised the damnable art of sorcery, and of having thereby caused the death of many persons, destroyed and injured much cattle, and done many other evil deeds. They were condemned to be tied to a stake, strangled, and burnt until their bodies were totally consumed; and their ashes to be scattered abroad. The sentence added that, previous to execution, they were to be put to the torture[159] in order to force them to declare the names of their accomplices.
First, the said Collette, immediately after the said sentence had been rendered, and before leaving the Court, freely acknowledged that she was a witch, but would not particularise the crimes which she had committed; whereupon she was conducted with the others to the torture-house, and, being put to the question, confessed that the Devil, when she was still young, appeared to her in the form of a cat,[160] in the parish of Torteval, it being yet day, as she was returning from tending her cattle; that he prevailed upon her by inviting her to revenge herself on one of her neighbours with whom she was on bad terms in consequence of some injury done to her by his cattle; that on subsequent occasions, when she had quarrelled with anyone, he again appeared to her in the same form, and sometimes in that of a dog, inducing her to revenge herself against those with whom she was displeased, and persuading her to cause the death of men and beasts; that the Devil having come to invite her to the Sabbath, called her, without its being perceived by others, and gave her a certain black ointment,[161] with which, having stripped, she rubbed her body nearly all over, and, having dressed herself again and gone out of doors, she was immediately carried through the air with great velocity to the place where the Sabbath was held, which was sometimes near the Torteval parish churchyard, and sometimes on the sea-shore near Rocquaine Castle; that, being arrived there, she met frequently as many as fifteen or sixteen wizards and witches, with devils, who were there in the form of dogs, cats, and hares; that she could not recognise the wizards and witches, because they were all blackened and disfigured, although she heard the Devil evoke them by name, and remembers among others, the wives Calais and Hardy. She confesses also that at the opening of the Sabbath, the Devil, in making the evocation, began sometimes by her name; that her daughter Marie, wife of Massy, at present under condemnation for the same crime, is a witch, and that she has taken her twice to the Sabbath with her. She does not know where the Devil has marked her. She says that at the Sabbath they adored the Devil, who stood upon his hind legs … in the form of a dog, that afterwards they danced back to back, and after having danced they drank wine, but of what colour she does not know, which the Devil poured out of a flagon into a silver or pewter goblet; but that the wine did not seem so good as that which is usually drunk, that they also ate white bread, which the Devil presented to them, but that she has never seen any salt[162] at the Sabbath.
“Castle Cornet, 1660.”
She confesses that the Devil had charged her to call in on her way for Isebell Le Moigne, when she went to the Sabbath, and that she has done so several times; that on leaving the Sabbath the Devil invited her to perpetrate many evils, and that, for this purpose he gave her certain black powders, which he ordered her to throw on such persons and beasts as she pleased; and that with this powder she did much evil, which she cannot now call to mind, but she remembers that she threw some over Mr. Dolbel, the minister of the parish, and by this means was the cause of his death. With the same powder she bewitched the wife of Jean Manguès, but denies that her death was caused by it. She says that she touched the side, and threw some of this powder on the wife,[163] since deceased, of Mr. Perchard, who succeeded Mr. Dolbel as minister of the parish, thereby causing her death and that of her unborn babe. She cannot say what offence the deceased had given her. She says that on the refusal of Collas Tostevin’s wife to give her some milk, she caused her cow to run dry by throwing some of the powder over it, but that she cured the cow afterwards by giving it bran mixed with grass, which the Devil had given her, to eat.
The confession of her daughter Marie, wife of Pierre Massy, is much to the same effect, with this exception, that she seems to have been in the habit of meeting the Devil in the form of a dog, and that he changed her into an animal of the same species at the time of their interviews.
The third of these unfortunate wretches, Isebell, wife of Jean Le Moigne, enters, in her confession, into some additional details.
It was in the semblance of a hare, and in broad daylight, that the Devil appeared to her for the first time, and incited her to avenge herself on her sister-in-law, La Girarde, with whom she had quarrelled. At first she resisted the tempter, but he appeared to her a second time, again in the road next her house, and on this occasion left with her a packet of black powder, which she kept. A third time the demon appeared, in the same form, urging her, if she would not give herself to him, to make him a present of some living animal, whereupon she gave him a chicken, and he appointed her to meet him the next day before sunrise at the Sabbath, promising to send someone to guide her there. Accordingly old Collette Dumont came that night to her house, and gave her some black ointment, with which she rubbed herself. She was then carried over hedges and ditches to the place of meeting near Rocquaine Castle. She was received and welcomed by the Devil in the form of a dog, with long erect horns (avec de grandes cornes dressées en hautt), and hands like those of a man. He caused her to go down on her knees and renounce the Almighty in these words: “I deny God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost.” (“Je renie Dieu le Père, Dieu le Fils, et Dieu le Saint Esprit”). After this, she was made to adore the Devil and invoke him in these terms: “Our great Master, help us!” (“Nostre grand Maistre, aide nous!”) and also to enter into an express covenant to adhere to his service. At the conclusion of this ceremony, the same acts of license, dancing and drinking (again bread and wine in mockery of the Holy Sacrament), took place as are described by Collette Dumont, widow Becquet, in her confession. On this occasion Isebell Le Moigne entered into a pact with Satan for one month only; but subsequently the agreement was extended to three years. She stated that Satan treated Collette Dumont with marked respect, always evoking her name first, styling her “Madame, la vieille Becquette,” and giving her a place by his side. She also said that one night, when she was at the Sabbath, the Devil marked her on the thigh. The mark thus made having been examined by women appointed for that purpose, they certified that they had thrust pins deep into it, and that Isebell felt no pain therefrom, nor did any blood follow when the pins were withdrawn.
According to her account, the Devil appeared occasionally in the form of a he-goat, and when they took leave of him, they all had to kiss him, that he inquired of them when they would return, and exhorted them to adhere to him and do all the evil in their power. He then took them all by the hand and they departed in different directions. She asserted also that it was the Devil who had been seen in the forms of a rat and a stoat in the house of James Gallienne, whose child she had bewitched; that she was in the neighbourhood of the house at the time; and that the Devil, having resumed the form of a man, came to her and beat her severely about the head and face, which ill-treatment she attributed to her having refused to go with him to Gallienne’s house. She said that she never went to the Sabbath except when her husband was gone out to sea for the night, fishing.
The depositions of the witnesses, taken down very minutely in the three cases above cited and in many others of a similar nature, have been preserved, and throw a good deal of light on the popular ideas of the day in respect to sorcerers and their doings.
[155] Editor’s Note.—Pavie used to be grown in ponds arranged for the purpose, and was used for making pack-saddles, horse-collars, mats, etc. It is a reed.—From John de Garis, Esq.
[156] Editor’s Note.—(See footnote to p. 308). Some had a goat’s hair intwined, others a flaxen thread.
Mr. J. Linwood Pitts, in his pamphlet on Witchcraft in the Channel Islands, points out, page 6, “that the natural tendency of wool and feathers to felt and clog together, has been distorted, by widely different peoples, into an outward and visible sign that occult and malignant influences were at work.”
[157] Editor’s Note.—“Il y avoit de l’etrain”—a Guernsey-French word—from the old French estraîn, estraine, lat. strannu.—See Métivier’s Dictionary “Etrain.”
[158] Editor’s Note.—“Des graines noires comme de la neisle” (an old French word nêle, from Latin Nigella.)—Métivier’s Dictionary “Néle.”
[159] Editor’s Note.—The manner in which torture was administered in Guernsey is thus described by Warburton, herald and antiquary, temp. Charles II., in his Treatise on the History, Laws and Customs of the Island of Guernsey, 1682, page 126.
“By the law approved (Terrien, Lib. XII, Cap. 37), torture is to be used, though not upon slight presumption, yet where the presumptive proof is strong, and much more when the proof is positive, and there wants only the confession of the party accused. Yet this practice of torturing does not appear to have been used in the Island for some ages, except in the case of witches, when it was too frequently applied, near a century since. The custom then was, when any person was supposed guilty of sorcery or witchcraft, they carried them to a place in the town called La Tour Beauregard, and there, tying their hands behind them by the two thumbs, drew them to a certain height, with an engine made for that purpose, by which means sometimes their shoulders were turned round, and sometimes their thumbs torn off; but this fancy of witches has for some years been laid aside.”
[160] Editor’s Note.—Mary Osgood, one of the “Salem Witches” tried in 1692, confessed that “when in a melancholy condition she saw the appearance of a cat at the end of the house, which cat proved to be the Devil himself.” See Demonology and Devil-Lore, Vol. II., p. 315.
[162] Editor’s Note.—“It is an example of the completeness and consistency with which a theory may organise its myth, that the fatal demons are generally represented as abhorring salt,—the preserving agent against decay.… The Devil, as heir of death-demons, appears in all European folk-lore as a hater of salt.” Demonology and Devil-Lore, by Moncure Conway, Vol. I., p. 288.
[163] Editor’s Note.—Susanne de Quetteville, daughter of Jehannet de Quetteville and his wife Colliche de Sausmarez, was born in 1586, married the Rev. Jean Perchard in 1611, and died in 1612.
There are some families in Guernsey whose members have the reputation of being sorcerers from their birth. These individuals require no initiation into the diabolic mysteries of the “Sabbat,” Satan claiming them as his own from the very cradle. They are, however, furnished by him with a familiar, generally in the shape of a fly, so that the phrase “avoir une mouque” is well understood as meaning that the person of whom it is said is one of the infernal fraternity. Indeed, in talking of persons who are addicted to magical arts, it is reckoned highly imprudent to speak of them as “sorciers” or “sorcières,” or to call them by the now almost-forgotten name of “Quéraud.”[164] By so doing you give offence, and, what is of still more consequence, you put it in their power to injure you. It is, however, quite safe to speak of them as “gens du Vendredi,”[165] or “gens du hoc.”[166]
Satan does not always wait for their death to claim their souls as his own, but sometimes carries them off bodily; and a former schoolmaster of the Vale, who, from his eccentricities, had acquired the reputation of being a wizard, having disappeared mysteriously, and having never been seen again, is commonly believed, to this day, to have been spirited away.
Those who are born sorcerers have the faculty of transporting themselves at will wherever they please, but those who seek admission into the fraternity, and are initiated into the diabolical rites, are furnished by their infernal master with a certain ointment with which they anoint every part of their bodies before undertaking their aerial journeys. They are also supposed to be able to introduce themselves at night through the chinks and crevices of the buildings into the sheds in which the cattle are housed, for the purpose of milking the cows, not only thus depriving the owner of his property, but also worrying and alarming the poor animals, whose altered looks in the morning shew the ill-treatment to which they have been subjected. An old horse-shoe nailed on the door or lintel, or a naturally pierced flintstone pebble attached to the key of the stable door, are both considered efficacious in warding off these attacks—but an infallible method of driving off the witches is to suspend wreaths of the bramble from the rafters. Witches and wizards travelling, not on land, but through the air, finding these unexpected obstacles in their way, get scratched.[167]
After having rubbed themselves over with this ointment they are then instructed to pronounce without intermission the words “Roule, roule, par dessus ronces et buissons.” (“Roll, roll, above brambles and brakes”).
This was discovered in the following manner:—A prying valet, who lived in the service of a gentleman who was a wizard, of which fact he was nevertheless ignorant, was one day amusing himself by peeping through the key-hole of his master’s bed chamber. He observed his master make use of the ointment, and heard distinctly the words which he pronounced, immediately after which he became invisible. Wishing to try the effect of the unguent on his own person, he entered the room, and went through the process of anointment, but when he came to pronounce the magic formula, he made use of the word “dessous” instead of “dessus” (“under” instead of “over.”) Perhaps he was an Englishman, to whom the French “u” was an insurmountable difficulty. Be this as it may, he had reason to repent bitterly of his indiscreet curiosity, for, no sooner were the words out of his mouth, than he felt himself lifted up, and carried at a fearful rate through furze brakes and bramble hedges, while at the same time he had the mortification to see his master gliding along through the air, several feet above the bushes, and laughing heartily at his misfortunes. At last, dreadfully scratched and torn, and more dead than alive, he arrived at the spot where the infernal troops had their rendezvous, but was too much frightened to notice what took place there, only too happy to escape without being forced, against his will, to enrol himself among them. His curiosity, however, was effectually cured, and he vowed nevermore to pry into his master’s secrets.[168]
“Old Harbour.”
The following is another instance of the use of this infernal ointment. It is related that a lady of St. Pierre-du-Bois was astonished at the long time her husband remained in his private apartment, and her curiosity at last induced her to watch him. Accordingly she one day concealed herself in the room. Her husband came in shortly afterwards, and, after stripping off all his clothes, proceeded to anoint himself from head to foot with a certain ointment, after which he repeated the words “va et vient” (“go and come”), and immediately disappeared. Anxious to know whither he was gone, she went through the same ceremony, and no sooner had she repeated the mysterious words than she found herself on the summit of Pleinmont, in the midst of a large concourse of people. A table was set out, covered with a variety of viands of which some present invited her courteously to partake. Previously, however, to touching anything, she, like a good Christian, repeated aloud the words “Au nom de Dieu soit, Amen,” (“In the name of God, Amen”). No sooner had the sacred name passed her lips than she found herself alone. All had disappeared, and the only signs which remained of any living beings having been on the spot besides herself were recent marks of cloven feet indented on the sward in every direction.
Editor’s Notes.
A very similar story is told in M. Paul Sebillot’s Traditions et Superstitions de la Haute Bretagne, Tome I., p. 277.
“Une femme avait deux enfants, quand elle les avait couchés, elle sortait, et ils ne la revoyaient que de matin. Un des enfants, qui commençait à être grand, fit mine de s’endormir, il vit sa mère aller sous le lit, se mettre toute nue, et se frotter d’onguent, puis dire, avant de partir:
“Par sur haies et bûchons (buissons) Faut que je trouve les autres où qu’ils sont.” Le gars, dès que sa mère fut partir, se frotta aussi avec l’onguent et dit:—“Par en travers haies et bûchons. Faut que je trouve les autres où qu’ils sont.” Mais, comme il s’était trompé en répétant ce qu’il avait ouï dire, il passa à travers les ronces et les haies, et arriva tout sanglant au rendezvous des sorciers. Il les trouva qui dansaient, et qui chantaient, et sa mère était avec eux.”
There is a story told of two men who were neighbours and inhabitants of the parish of St. Saviour’s, that their occupation—that of quarrymen—took them frequently to the Vale parish, where the finest qualities of granite are to be procured. The distance they had to traverse before arriving at their destination was considerable, and the road in some places, rather lonely.
Leonard Sarre, who was of a companionable nature, thought that the tediousness of the way would be considerably lessened by having someone to talk to, even if it were only his fellow workman, Matthew Tostevin, whose taciturnity and reserve were proverbial. Often, when setting off in the early morning to go to his work, he would, as he passed Tostevin’s door, look in and offer his company. The answer was invariably the same:—
“Go on, I shall be there as soon as you, though I shall not leave home for an hour to come.”
When Sarre arrived at the quarry where they worked he was frequently astounded at finding Tostevin already there. The way which Sarre took was the very shortest and most direct. He was confident that Tostevin could not pass without his perceiving him, and any other road would entail at least half-an-hour’s extra walking to accomplish. There was evidently a mystery, and Leonard was resolved to fathom it.
At last, in answer to his repeated enquiries, Matthew told him that he was willing to let him into the secret. He bade him place his foot on one of his, clasp him tightly round the waist, shut his eyes closely, and, above all, on no account whatever, to utter a word.
Leonard Sarre did as he was directed, and immediately felt himself lifted into the air and carried along at a fearful rate. In his fright he forgot the injunctions that had been given him, opened his eyes, and, finding himself far above the earth, cried out in terror “O, mon Dieu!” The holy name dissolved the unhallowed spell, at least so far as poor Leonard was concerned. He fell; fortunately it was into one of the most boggy spots of La Grand’ Mare, so he escaped with a few scratches and bruises, a thorough ducking, and a tremendous fright. What became of Matthew Tostevin is not known.
It was not until many years had rolled over his head that Leonard Sarre ventured to relate his perilous adventure, and then Tostevin had long been dead.[169]
The barren and rugged hill of Catiauroc, situated near the sea-shore in the parish of St. Saviour’s, is the noted and favourite haunt of wizards and witches. Once every week on the Friday night they resort thither, and grand assemblies, at which their infernal master presides in person, are held at other seasons, particularly on St. Thomas’, or the longest night, and on the eve of Christmas.
Though the power of sorcerers in doing harm is very great, yet they themselves are subject to all the accidents and infirmities of life, nor can their supernatural skill extricate them from any difficulty they may chance to get into.
A countrywoman left her cottage one morning at daybreak to look after her cows. In passing through a furze brake that led to the meadow she thought she perceived, by the yet imperfect light, what appeared to her a bundle of clothes thrown on the top of a hedge. On approaching nearer she was astonished to recognise a lady from the town, whose dress was so entangled in the brambles that it was impossible for her to extricate herself, or to descend from her elevated situation, and who was so exhausted that she had scarcely sufficient strength left to beg for assistance. It immediately occurred to her, that the lady in her aërial journey to the Catiauroc that night had kept too close to the earth, and thus had been caught by the bushes, but, remembering that there are some persons with whom it is better to be friends than enemies, she immediately drew near and assisted the lady to descend, at the same time expressing her surprise at seeing her in such a singular position, and begging her to walk into her cottage and rest herself.
“No,” said the lady, thanking her, “I must now make the best of my way home. Mention to no living creature what you have seen this day, and all will go well with you, but bitterly will you repent your folly if you disobey this injunction.”
She then left the countrywoman. It is not easy for a man to keep a secret from his wife, but it is almost impossible for a woman to conceal anything from her husband.
The secret weighed on the poor woman’s heart and rendered her miserable, till at last she flattered herself she had discovered an expedient by which she might ease her mind without disobeying the commands put upon her. She therefore one morning desired her husband to follow her into the garden and stand at some little distance from her. She then addressed herself to a tree, and related to this inanimate object what she had seen, but the secret of course reached, as was intended, the ears of her husband. The subterfuge availed her nothing; before the close of day she was struck with deafness, and never, to her dying day, did she recover her hearing.
The old woman of the Castel, who related this story to Miss Lane, said that the woman was her great-aunt, and remembered having seen her when very young.
Stories very similar in their general features to the preceding are far from uncommon in the country, and in all the sorceress is represented as a lady of rank.
A countryman met a lady entangled in the brambles on the top of a hedge. He disengaged her, and was promised that as long as he kept the secret he should find every morning, under a stone which she pointed out to him, a piece of money.[170]
Many persons, although not absolutely considered as wizards, are looked upon with no favourable eye from their supposed possession of books relating to the black art, by the study of which they are thought to be able to control the elements, to produce strange effects either for good or bad on the bodies of man and beast, to discover hidden secrets, treasure, etc.
These books are generally known by the name of Albins, probably derived from that famous professor of magic, Albertus Magnus, many of whose formulas for raising the Devil, etc., they are said to contain.
They are also called “Le Grammaille” or “Grand-Mêle,”[171] and a distinction is made between the Grand-Mêle and the Petit-Mêle.
Among the effects which the possessors of these books are said to be able to produce is that of causing persons to walk in their sleep, and to direct their steps towards any point to which the dabbler in magic may wish them to go, but in order to accomplish this, it is necessary that he should have previously drawn blood from the person on whom he intends to practise his unlawful art. So small a quantity however as that produced by the scratch of a pin is amply sufficient for the purpose.
These books are said to be indestructible. If thrown on the fire they remain unconsumed, if sunk in the sea, or buried in the earth, they will be found again the next day in the cupboard or chest from whence they were taken.[172]