Breton Legends Part 3

But the truth was soon discovered by the miracles which were wrought at his tomb; and the body being taken from the earth, was carried with great state to the city, and buried at the foot of the high altar in the cathedral. St. Pol was requested to write an epitaph upon him; but the apostle of Leon replied that none but an archangel could compose one; so they merely covered the grave with a plain granite slab, on which was carved the name of Galonnek.

Ages have pa.s.sed away, and yet this stone still remains, and thither the Breton mothers come to lay their new-born babes one instant on its consecrated bosom, whilst they repeat the usual form of prayer:

"Saint Galonnek, bestow upon my child two hearts. Give him the heart of a lion, that he may be strong in well-doing; and give him the heart of a turtle-dove, that he may be full of brotherly love."

The feast of St. Galonnek is celebrated on the 1st of April, when the buds of the hedgerows are bursting into leaf, and "the time of the singing of birds is come."

THE KORILS OF PLAUDEN.

There dwelt formerly in the land of White-Wheat, as well as in Cornouaille, a race of dwarfs, or Korigans, who, being divided into four nations or tribes, inhabited the woods, the commons, the valleys, and the farms. Those dwelling in the woods were called Kornikaneds, because they played on little horns, which hung suspended from their girdles; the inhabitants of the commons were called Korils, from their spending all their nights in dancing by moonlight; the dwellers in the valleys were Poulpikans, from their homes lying so low; and the Teuz were wild black men, living near the meadows and the wheat-fields; but as the other Korigans accused them of being too friendly with Christians, they were forced to take flight into Leon, where probably there may still be some of them remaining.

At the time of which I speak, there were only then hereabouts the Kornikaneds, the Poulpikans, and the Korils; but they abounded in such numbers, that after dark few people cared to venture near their stony palaces.

Above all, there lay in Plauden, near the little market-town of Loqueltas, a common known as Motenn-Dervenn, or place of oaks, whereon there stood an extensive Koril village, that may be seen there to this very day. The mischievous dwarfs came out to dance there every night; and any one adventurous enough to cross the common at that time was sure to be entrapped into their mazy chain, and forced to wheel about with them till earliest c.o.c.kcrow; so that the place was universally avoided after nightfall.

One evening, however, Benead Guilcher, returning with his wife from a field, where he had been doing a day's work in ploughing for a farmer of Cadougal, took his way across the haunted heath because it was so much the shortest road. It was still early, and he hoped that the Korigans might not have yet begun their dance; but when he came half-way over the Motenn-Dervenn, he perceived them scattered round about the blocks of stone, like birds on a field of corn. He would fain have turned him back; but the horns of the wood-dwarfs, and the call-cries of the valley-imps, already rose behind him. Benead felt his legs tremble, and said to his wife,

"Saint Anne, we are done for! Here come the Kornikaneds and the Poulpikans to join the Korils for their midnight ball. They will make us dance with them till daybreak; and it is more than my poor heart can endure."

And, in fact, the troops of Korigans a.s.sembling from all parts, came round about poor Guilcher and his wife like flies in August to a drop of honey, but started back on seeing in his hand the little fork Benead had been using to clear the ploughshare, and began to sing with one accord,

"Let him be, let her be, The plough-fork has he!

Let them go on their way, The fork carry they!"

Guilcher instantly perceived that the instrument he held in his hand acted as a charm against the power of the Korigans; and he and his wife pa.s.sed unmolested through the very midst of them.

This was a hint to every body. From that day forward it became a universal custom to take out the little fork of an evening; and thus armed, any one might cross the heaths and valleys without fear of hindrance.

But Benead was not satisfied with having rendered this service to the Bretons; he was an inquisitive as well as an intelligent man, and as merry a hunchback as any in the four Breton bishoprics. For I have omitted to tell you that Benead carried from his birth a hump betwixt his shoulders, with which he would thankfully have parted at cost-price. He was looked on also as an honest workman, who laboured conscientiously for daily bread, and moreover well deserved the character of a good Christian.

One evening, unable to resist the wish, he took his little fork, commended himself devoutly to St. Anne, and set off towards the Motenn-Dervenn.

The Korils saw him from a distance, and ran to him, crying,

"It is Benead Guilcher!"

"Yes, it is I, my little men," replied the jovial hunchback; "I have come to pay you a friendly visit."

"You are welcome," replied the Korils. "Will you have a dance with us?"

"Excuse me, my good folks," replied Guilcher, "but your breath is too long for a poor invalid."

"We will stop whenever you like," cried the Korils.

"Will you promise that?" said Benead, who was not unwilling to try a round with them, as much for the novelty of the thing as that he might have it to talk about.

"We will promise thee," said the dwarfs.

"By the Saviour's cross?"

"By the Saviour's cross."

The hunchback, satisfied that such an oath secured him from all dangers, took his place in their chain; and the Korils began their round, singing their accustomed song:

"Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday; Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday." [4]

In a few minutes Guilcher stopped.

"With all due deference to you, good gentlefolks," said he to the dwarfs, "your song and dance seem to me very monotonous. You stop too early in the week; and without having much claim to be a skilful stringer of rhymes, I fancy I can lengthen the chorus."

"Let us see, let us see!" cried the dwarfs.

Then the hunchback replied,

"Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Sat.u.r.day."

A great tumult arose amongst the Korils.

"Stard! stard!" [5] cried they, surrounding Guilcher; "you are a bold singer and a fine dancer. Repeat it once more."

The hunchback repeated,

"Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Sat.u.r.day,"

whilst the Korils wheeled about in mad delight. At last they stopped, and pressing round about Guilcher, they cried with one voice,

"What will you have? what do you want? riches or beauty? Speak a wish, and we will fulfil it for you."

"Are you in earnest?" asked the labourer.

"May we be doomed to pick up grain by grain all the millet in the diocese, if we deceive thee," they replied.

"Well," said Guilcher, "if you want to make me a present, and leave me to choose what it shall be, I have one thing only to desire from you, and that is, that you take away what I have got here set betwixt my shoulders, and make me as straight as the flagstaff of Loqueltas."