"We shall arrive there in good time, my sister," he replied.
"Thy heart is cold, thy hair is wet! Ah, how chill are thy hands!"
"Listen, my sister; do you not hear the noise of the gay musicians who shall play at our wedding?" He had not finished speaking when his horse threw itself back on its haunches all at once, trembling and whinnying loudly.
Gwennolak looked around, and found herself on an island where a crowd of people were dancing. Lads and la.s.ses, they danced most bravely beneath the green trees heavy with apples, and the music to which they tripped was as that of heaven.
Suddenly the sun rose above the eastern mountains and flooded this strange new world with rich light, and there Gwennolak found her mother and her two sisters, and there was nothing in her heart but beauty and joy.
On the following morning, as the sun rose, the young women carried the body of Gwennolak and laid it in the tomb of her foster-brother in the White Church.
In this ballad--for the original from which we take the tale is cast in ballad form--we are once more in touch with the Celtic Otherworld.
It is a thousand pities that this interesting piece breaks off where it does, thus failing to provide us with a fuller account of that most elusive realm. The short glimpse we do get of it, however, reminds us very much of the descriptions of it we possess in Irish lore. We have also once more the phenomenon of the dead lover who comes to claim the living bride, the midnight gallop, and other circ.u.mstances characteristic of ballad literature. There was a tradition in Lower Brittany, however, that no soul might be admitted to the other world which had not first received burial, but here, of course, we must look for Christian influence.
CHAPTER VII: POPULAR LEGENDS OF BRITTANY
"The legend," says Gomme, in a pa.s.sage most memorable for students of folk-lore as containing his acute and precise definition of the several cla.s.ses of tradition, "belongs to an historical personage, locality, or event,"[40] and it is in this general sense that the term is employed in regard to the contents of this chapter, unless where mythic or folk-lore matter is introduced for the sake of a.n.a.logy or ill.u.s.tration. There is, however, a broad, popular reading of the term as indicating the fanciful-historical. When we read of the King of Ys, or Arthur, for example, we are not aware whether they ever existed or not, but they are alluded to by tradition as ancient rulers of Brittany and Britain, just as Cymbeline and Cole are spoken of as British monarchs of the distant past. They linger as personal figures in the folk-memory, but they scarcely seem as the personages of folk-tale. Let us say, then, for the purposes of our cla.s.sification of Breton tradition, that we include in the term "legend" all tales of great personal figures who are historical or over whom folk-tale has cast an historical _vraisemblance_, remembering at the same time that in the case of personages whose existence is doubtful we may be dealing with a folk-tale disguised or even a distorted myth.
_The Dark Story of Gilles de Retz_
Of the dark and terrible legends to which Brittany has given birth, one of the most gloomy and romantic is the story of Gilles de Retz, alchemist, magician, and arch-criminal. But the story is not altogether legendary, although it has undoubtedly been added to from the great stores of tradition. Gilles is none other than the Bluebeard of the nursery tale, for he appears to have actually worn a beard bluish-black in hue, and it is probable that his personality became mingled with that of the hero of the old Oriental story.
Gilles de Laval, Lord of Retz and Marshal of France, was connected with some of the n.o.blest families in Brittany, those of Montmorency, Rocey, and Craon, and at his father"s death, about 1424, he found himself lord of many princely domains, and what, for those times, was almost unlimited power and wealth. He was a handsome youth, lithe and of fascinating address, courageous, and learned as any clerk. A splendid career lay before him, but from the first that distorted idea of the romantic which is typical of certain minds had seized upon him, and despite his rank and position he much preferred the dark courses which finally ended in his disgrace and ruin to the dignities of his seigneury.
Gilles took his princ.i.p.al t.i.tle from the barony of Retz or Rais, south of the Loire, on the marches of Brittany. As a youth he did nothing to justify an evil augury of his future, for he served with zeal and gallantry in the wars of Charles VI against the English and fought under Jeanne Darc at the siege of Orleans. In virtue of these services, and because of his shrewdness and skill in affairs, the King created him Marshal of France. But from that time onward the man who had been the able lieutenant of Jeanne Darc and had fought by her side at Jargeau and Patay began to deteriorate. Some years before he had married Catherine de Thouars, and with her had received a large dowry; but he had expended immense sums in the national cause, and his private life was as extravagant as that of a prince in a fairy tale.
At his castle of Champtoce he dwelt in almost royal state; indeed, his train when he went hawking or hunting exceeded in magnificence that of the King himself. His retainers were tricked out in the most gorgeous liveries, and his table was spread with ruinous abundance. Oxen, sheep, and pigs were roasted whole, and viands were provided daily for five hundred persons. He had an insane love of pomp and display, and his private devotions were ministered to by a large body of ecclesiastics. His chapel was a marvel of splendour, and was furnished with gold and silver plate in the most lavish manner. His love of colour and movement made him fond of theatrical displays, and it is even said that the play or mystery of Orleans, dealing with the story of Jeanne Darc, was written with his own hand. He was munificent in his patronage of the arts, and was himself a skilled illuminator and bookbinder. In short, he was obviously one of those persons of abnormal character in whom genius is allied to madness and who can attempt and execute nothing except in a spirit of the wildest excess.
The reduction of his fortune merely served his peculiar and abnormal personality with a new excuse for extravagance. At this time the art of alchemy flourished exceedingly and the works of Nicolas Flamel, the Arabian Geber, and Pierre d"Estaing enjoyed a great vogue. On an evil day it occurred to Gilles to turn alchemist, and thus repair his broken fortunes. In the first quarter of the fifteenth century alchemy stood for scientific achievement, and many persons in our own enlightened age still study its maxims. A society exists to-day the object of which is to further the knowledge of alchemical science. A common misapprehension is current to the effect that the object of the alchemists was the trans.m.u.tation of the baser metals into gold, but in reality they were divided into two groups, those who sought eagerly the secret of manufacturing the precious metals, and those who dreamed of a higher aim, the trans.m.u.tation of the gross, terrestrial nature of man into the pure gold of the spirit.
The latter of these aims was beyond the fevered imagination of such a wild and disorderly mind as that of Gilles de Retz. He sent emissaries into Italy, Spain, and Germany to invite adepts in the science to his castle at Champtoce. From among these he selected two men to a.s.sist him in his plan--Prelati, an alchemist of Padua, and a certain physician of Poitou, whose name is not recorded. At their instigation he built a magnificent laboratory, and when it was completed commenced to experiment. A year pa.s.sed, during which the necessities of the "science" gradually emptied many bags of gold, but none returned to the Marshal"s coffers. The alchemists slept soft and fed sumptuously, and were quite content to pursue their labours so long as the Seigneur of Retz had occasion for their services. But as the time pa.s.sed that august person became greatly impatient, and so irritable did he grow because of the lack of results that at length his a.s.sistants, in imminent fear of dismissal, communicated to him a dark and dreadful secret of their art, which, they a.s.sured him, would a.s.sist them at arriving speedily at the desired end.
The nature of the experiment they proposed was so grotesque that its acceptance by Gilles proves that he was either insane or a victim of the superst.i.tion of his time. His wretched accomplices told him that the Evil One alone was capable of revealing the secret of the trans.m.u.tation of the baser metals into gold, and they offered to summon him to their master"s aid. They a.s.sured Gilles that Satan would require a recompense for his services, and the Marshal retorted that so long as he saved his soul intact he was quite willing to conclude any bargain that the Father of Evil might propose.
It was arranged that the ceremony should take place within a gloomy wood in the neighbourhood. The nameless physician conducted the Lord of Retz to a small clearing in this plantation, where the magic circle was drawn and the usual conjurations made. For half an hour they waited in silence, and then a great trembling fell upon the physician.
A deadly pallor overspread his countenance. His knees shook, he muttered wildly, and at last he sank to the ground. Gilles stood by unmoved. The insanity of egotism is of course productive of great if not lofty courage, and he feared neither man nor fiend. Suddenly the alchemist regained consciousness and told his master that the Devil had appeared to him in the shape of a leopard and had growled at him horribly. He ascribed Gilles" lack of supernatural vision to want of faith. He then declared that the Evil One had told him where certain herbs grew in Spain and Africa, the juices of which possessed the power to effect the trans.m.u.tation, and these he obligingly offered to search for, provided the Lord of Retz furnished the means for his travels. This Gilles gladly did, and of course never beheld the Poitevin knave again.
Days and months pa.s.sed and the physician did not return. Gilles grew uneasy. It was imperative that gold should be forthcoming immediately, for not only was he being pressed on every side, but he was unable to support his usual magnificence. In this dilemma he turned to Prelati, his remaining alchemical a.s.sistant. This man appears to have believed in his art or he would not have made the terrible suggestion he did, which was that the Lord of Retz should sign with his own blood a compact with the Devil, and should offer up a young child in sacrifice to him. To this proposal the unhappy Gilles consented. On the following night Prelati quitted the castle, and returned shortly afterward with the story that the fiend had appeared to him in the likeness of a young man who desired to be called Barron, and had pointed out to him the resting-place of a h.o.a.rd of ingots of pure gold, buried under an oak in the neighbouring wood. Certain conditions, however, must be observed before the treasure was dug up, the chief of which was that it must not be searched for until a period of seven times seven weeks had elapsed, or it would turn into slates.
With these conditions de Retz would not comply, and, alarmed at his annoyance, the obliging Prelati curtailed the time of waiting to seven times seven days. At the end of that period the alchemist and his dupe repaired to the wood to dig up the treasure. They worked hard for some time, and at length came upon a load of slates, inscribed with magical characters. Prelati pretended great wrath, and upbraided the Evil One for his deceit, in which denunciation he was heartily joined by de Retz. But so credulous was the Seigneur that he allowed himself to be persuaded to afford Satan another trial, which meant, of course, that Prelati led him on from day to day with specious promises and ambiguous hints, until he had drained him of nearly all his remaining substance. He was then preparing to decamp with his plunder when a dramatic incident detained him.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DEVIL IN THE FORM OF A LEOPARD APPEARS BEFORE THE ALCHEMIST]
For some time a rumour had been circulating in the country-side that numerous children were missing and that they had been spirited away.
Popular clamour ran high, and suspicion was directed toward the castle of Champtoce. So circ.u.mstantial was the evidence against de Retz that at length the Duke of Brittany ordered both the Seigneur and his accomplice to be arrested. Their trial took place before a commission which de Retz denounced, declaring that he would rather be hanged like a dog, without trial, than plead before its members. But the evidence against him was overwhelming. It was told how the wretched madman, in his insane quest for gold, had sacrificed his innocent victims on the altar of Satan, and how he had gloated over their sufferings. Finally he confessed his enormities and told how nearly a hundred children had been cruelly murdered by him and his relentless accomplice. Both he and Prelati were doomed to be burned alive, but in consideration of his rank he was strangled before being cast into the flames. Before the execution he expressed to Prelati a hope that they would meet in Paradise, and, it is said, met his end very devoutly.
The castle of Champtoce still stands in its beautiful valley, and many romantic legends cl.u.s.ter about its grey old walls. "The hideous, half-burnt body of the monster himself," says Trollope, "circled with flames--pale, indeed, and faint in colour, but more lasting than those the hangman kindled around his mortal form in the meadow under the walls of Nantes--is seen, on bright moonlight nights, standing now on one topmost point of craggy wall, and now on another, and is heard mingling his moan with the sough of the night-wind. Pale, bloodless forms, too, of youthful growth and mien, the restless, unsepulchred ghosts of the unfortunates who perished in these dungeons una.s.soiled ... may at similar times be seen flitting backward and forward, in numerous groups, across the s.p.a.ce enclosed by the ruined wall, with more than mortal speed, or glancing hurriedly from window to window of the fabric, as still seeking to escape from its hateful confinement."[41]
_Comorre the Cursed_
As has been said, the story of Gilles de Retz is connected by tradition with that of Bluebeard, but it is probable that this traditional connexion arises simply from the a.s.sociation of two famous tales. The other legend in question is that of Comorre the Cursed, whose story is told in the frescoes which cover the wall of the church of St Nicolas de Bieuzy, dedicated to St Triphyne, in which the tale of Bluebeard is depicted as the story of the saint, who in history was the wife of Comorre. Comorre was a chief who ruled at Carhaix, in Finistere, and his tale, which owes its modern dress to emile Souvestre, himself a Breton, and author of _Derniers Bretons_ and the brilliant sketch _Un Philosophe sous les Toits_. The tale, translated, runs as follows:
Guerech, Count of Vannes, "the Country of White Corn," had a daughter, Triphyna, whom he tenderly loved. One day amba.s.sadors arrived from Comorre, a prince of Cornouaille, "the Country of Black Corn,"
demanding her in marriage. Now this caused great distress, for Comorre was a giant, and one of the wickedest of men, held in awe by every one for his cruelty. As a boy, when he went out, his mother used to ring a bell to warn people of his approach; and when unsuccessful in the chase he would set his dogs on the peasants to tear them to pieces. But most horrible of all, he had had four wives, who had all died one after the other, it was suspected either by the knife, fire, water, or poison. The Count of Vannes, therefore, dismissed the amba.s.sadors, and advanced to meet Comorre, who was approaching with a powerful army; but St Gildas went into Triphyna"s oratory and begged her to save bloodshed and consent to the marriage. He gave her a silver ring, which would warn her of any intended evil by turning as black as a crow"s wing at the approach of danger.
The marriage took place with great rejoicings. The first day six thousand guests were invited; on the next day as many poor were fed, the bride and the bridegroom themselves serving at the tables. For some time all went well. Comorre"s nature seemed altered; his prisons were empty, his gibbets untenanted. But Triphyna felt no confidence, and every day went to pray at the tombs of his four wives. At this time there was an a.s.sembly of the Breton princes at Rennes, which Comorre was obliged to attend. Before his departure he gave Triphyna his keys, desiring her to amuse herself in his absence. After five months he unexpectedly returned, and found her occupied tr.i.m.m.i.n.g an infant"s cap with gold lace. On seeing the cap Comorre turned pale; and when Triphyna joyfully announced to him that soon he would be a father he drew back in a rage and rushed out of the apartment.
Triphyna saw that her ring had turned black, which betokened danger, she knew not why. She descended into the chapel to pray. When she rose to depart the hour of midnight struck, and suddenly a sound of movement in the silent chapel chilled her at the heart; shrinking into a recess, she saw the four tombs of Comorre"s wives open slowly, and the women all issued forth in their winding-sheets.
Faint with terror, Triphyna tried to escape; but the spectres cried: "Take care, poor lost one! Comorre seeks to kill you."
"Me," said the Countess. "What evil have I done?"
"You have told him that you will soon become a mother; and, through the Spirit of Evil, he knows that his child will slay him. He murdered us when we told him what he has just learned from you."
"What hope, then, of refuge remains for me?" cried Triphyna.
"Go back to your father," answered the phantoms.
"But how escape when Comorre"s dog guards the court?"
"Give him this poison which killed me," said the first wife.
"But how can I descend yon high wall?"
"By means of this cord which strangled me," answered the second wife.
"But who will guide me through the dark?"
"The fire that burnt me," replied the third wife.
"And how can I make so long a journey?" returned Triphyna.
"Take this stick which broke my skull," rejoined the fourth spectre.
Armed with the poison, the rope, and the stick, Triphyna set out, silenced the dog, scaled the wall, and, miraculously guided on her way through the darkness by a glowing light, proceeded on her road to Vannes. On awaking next morning Comorre found that his wife had fled, and pursued her on horseback. The poor fugitive, seeing her ring turn black, turned off the road and hid herself till night in the cabin of a shepherd, where there was only an old magpie in a cage at the door, and here her baby was born. Comorre, who had given up the pursuit, was returning home by that road, when he heard the magpie trying to imitate her complaints and calling out "Poor Triphyna!" Guessing that his wife had pa.s.sed that way, he set his dog on the track.
Meanwhile Triphyna felt she could proceed no farther, and lay down on the ground with her baby boy. As she clasped the child in her arms she saw over her head a falcon with a golden collar, which she recognized as her father"s. The bird came at her call, and giving it the warning ring of St Gildas she told it to fly with it to her father. The bird obeyed, and flew like lightning to Vannes; but almost at the same instant Comorre arrived. Having parted with her warning ring, Triphyna, who had no notice of his approach, had only time to conceal her babe in the cavity of a tree when Comorre threw himself upon her, and with one blow from his sword severed her head from her body.
When the falcon arrived at Vannes he found the Count at dinner with St Gildas. He let the ring fall into the silver cup of his master, who, recognizing it, exclaimed:
"My daughter is in danger! Saddle the horses, and let Saint Gildas accompany us." Following the falcon, they soon reached the spot where Triphyna lay dead. After they had all knelt in prayer, St Gildas said to the corpse: "Arise, take thy head and thy child, and follow us."
The dead body obeyed, the bewildered troop followed; but, gallop as fast as they could, the headless body was always in front, carrying the babe in her left hand, and her pale head in the right. In this manner they reached the castle of Comorre.
"Count," called St Gildas before the gates, "I bring back thy wife such as thy wickedness has made her, and thy child such as heaven has given it thee. Wilt thou receive them under thy roof?"