FANCH SCOUARNEC

A BRETON STORY

A RICH lord was returning, alone, on horseback, from Brest to Rennes. At Brest, his footman had left him and sailed. He wished to get another in his place, and as he went along he had already proposed to more than one; but all had refused; his terms did not suit them. Between Plounevez-Moëdec and Belle-Isle-en-Terre (doubtless on the bridge of Saint-Elo) he saw by the roadside a little hut, the one door and window of which stood open. He got down from his horse so as to walk up to it. He went to the hut to ask for a fire to light his pipe. Holding his horse by the bridle, he put his head in at the door, standing with one foot inside and one out. His horse also put his head in through the window, which, as I have said, was open. A boy of twelve or thirteen years was alone in the hut, seated by the hearth-stone.

“Are you alone, my boy?” asked the traveler.

“No,” replied Fanch. (His name was Fanch Scouarnec.)

“But I see no one beside you.”

“It is nevertheless true, that there are in this house at this moment, a man and a half and the head of a horse.”

“You love to joke I see, but give me a little fire to light my pipe. Where is your father?”

“My father has gone hunting, and he will leave what he catches, and bring back to the house what he does not catch.”

“That seems difficult; and where is your mother?”

“My mother has gone to the oven to bake some bread that has been eaten”

“Good, good, you are a real joker; and your sister?”

“My sister is crying for the joy of last year.”

“I do not understand any of it; but you, what are you doing there?”

“I,—I am watching some leap over others and catching a few.”

“Surely, I have never seen any one so full of joke as you; but will you not explain it all to me?”

“There is nothing easier,” said Fanch, “and although you are a lord, you are not of the sharpest, it seems to me. My father is like me; he never goes out alone; he is always accompanied by a crowd of little animals who love him so that they would like to eat him up. Once upon a time, when there were too many of them, he seated himself down there in the sun, and went hunting among the little beasts that I spoke of. He left on the spot those he caught and brought to the house those he did not catch. Do you understand me now?”

“Perfectly.”

“My mother borrowed some bread last month and she has gone to the oven to bake some bread to return what she borrowed, so therefore you see she has gone to bake some bread already eaten. My sister had a lover, and her greatest happiness was to go walking with him at the hour for the angelus, and dance with him on the new threshing-floors; but after promising to marry her, he left her, and went away to France, and that is the reason she is crying for the joy she had last year. And as for me, I am busy cooking some peas in a pot, and when the pot boils the peas leap over each other, and with my spoon I catch some of them and eat them. Now, my lord, is it not all just as I said?”

“Yes, upon my word! But you have not explained your first answer.”

“You asked me if I was alone in the house; and I told you that I was not alone, but that there were here a man and a half and the head of a horse. Now, you see, you have your head, one foot, and half your body inside the house, and I am entirely inside, that makes a man and a half; and the horse’s head is the head of your horse which was in at the window.”

“I see that there are bigger fools than you in the country; but tell me now where this road goes.”

“That road, my lord, does not go anywhere; I have always seen it there.”

“I want to know to what place it leads; do you hear me?”

“Ah! that is different; it leads to Belle-Isle, to Louargat, to Bré, to Guingamp, and even to Paris, they say.”

“Very well! Would you like to come with me and be my footman?”

“Perhaps, yes, when you have told me your terms.”

“I will give you a hundred crowns, and a bag full of farthings, when you shall have served me for a year and a day; but on condition that you do everything I command you, and that you shall never get angry, no matter what is said to you, or what you are ordered to do; if you get angry, you shall have a strip of skin taken off from your neck to your heels, and be sent away without a penny.”

“The sum is tempting, a hundred crowns! but the conditions are hard. The strip of skin makes me shiver. But now about your part, my lord? Are you never to get angry either?”

“That is the bargain.”

“If you do, your skin shall be stripped off too?”

“Just so; it shall be done to the first one who gets angry.”

“Very well, it is a bargain; I will go with you, and I will go with you now while my father and mother are away.”

So they both started off on horseback, for the lord was leading the horse of the footman who had left him at Brest.

After traveling several days they came to the lord’s castle. At first Fanch was set to take care of two children, four or five years old, with the order never to contradict them and to do everything they asked, if possible.

“Very well!” said Fanch; “that is not hard work to begin with.”

That evening when they were at the table (for Fanch ate with the master and mistress of the house, so as to be always with the children), the two little brats cried out,—

“I want to get down, I want to get down!”

“Come, Fanch, do you not hear?” said the lady.

“Yes, yes,” answered Fanch; and he took them away. He had only eaten his soup, and when he came back into the room with the children, the table was cleared away, there was nothing left on it.

“How is it there is nothing on the table?” asked he, after waiting a while.

“There is a rule in my house,” replied the lord, “that whoever comes after the table has been cleared away shall have nothing.”

“A bad rule!” he muttered.

“Are you not satisfied with it?”

“Oh! yes! I will not die for the loss of one poor meal; I was used to that at my father’s house.”

“If you are not pleased, you can have your skin taken off.”

“I am pleased, I tell you.”

The next day at supper, Fanch had hardly begun to eat his soup, when the little brats began to cry out,—

“I want to go.”

“Come, Fanch, do you not hear?”

And Fanch went to please the children.

“Come, children, make haste and go back!” said he to them.

But when he returned, there was nothing on the table.

“How is this,” said he: “must I go without supper two days together?”

“Are you dissatisfied, Fanch?”

“I did not say that; but the children could just as well stay and let me eat in peace.”

“You promised to do everything the children asked, and if you are displeased, you know—”

“Yes, yes, I am entirely satisfied.”

And Fanch went to bed again without eating anything.

“Ah!” said he, “this thing cannot go on; I must eat sometime; we will see how it will be to-morrow.”

The next day the children began their song again.

“Ah!” cried Fanch, “this is no way to live; I must put an end to it. You want to go, my little scamps? Very well, go to the devil! I want some supper to-night, I do!” and he threw the two children out of the window.

“Stop!” cried the master and mistress, rising, “this is too much! To throw our children out of the window! Ah! you shall pay for it!”

“So then you are angry, master?” said Fanch quickly.

“I am not angry,” he replied, growing a little calmer, “but that is no way to do; it is a mercy if my poor children are not crippled!”

“If you are angry, master, you know our conditions, and I will strip off—”

“I tell you I am not angry, but I shall not trust my children with you again.”

“Just as you like; I would rather do anything than mind children like a nurse.”

That evening Fanch could eat comfortably. The next day the lord said,—

“Go to the blacksmith’s and have the horses’ feet shod.”

“Very well,” said Fanch; “I like that better than minding children.”

Then he went to the stable, cut off the horses’ feet with a hatchet, put them in a wagon, and took them to the blacksmith. That evening when he returned, the lord was in the court-yard of the castle.

“Here are your horses’ feet,” said Fanch; “see if they are well shod.”

“What have you done, you miserable creature?”

“Did you not tell me to have the horses’ feet shod?”

“You have ruined me, you wretch!”

“Why, master, you are angry, it seems to me!”

“Ah! it is enough to make me,—but you know very well that I do not get angry very easily.”

“If you are angry, you know—I shall strip off your skin—”

“Go to your supper at once and say nothing of this to your mistress; to-morrow I will see how I can employ you.”

The next day Fanch was sent to watch a great herd of beeves, in a pasture which was by the side of the high road. A butcher passed along the road. He went into the pasture and began to examine and feel the beeves. “Fine beeves,” said he to himself. “They are fat as moles. I have to furnish the meat at the castle, for the wedding of the young lady, which will take place the coming week, and if I can get three or four of these beeves, that will suit me exactly. Eh! boy!” cried he to Fanch, who was lying under a beech-tree singing.

“What do you want?” he asked, without moving.

“Come here, so that I can speak to you.”

“Come yourself, if you want me.”

Then the butcher went to him, saying to himself,—

“He does not look like the sharpest kind of a fellow.”

“Will you sell me three or four of your beeves?”

“All, if you wish.”

“How much do you ask for them?”

“Five hundred crowns, and the tail of one of them!”

“Why, for goodness’ sake?”

“Do not bother about that; that is my business.”

“Very well, agreed! The bargain is made!”

And they shook hands with each other.

“And the money at once,” added Fanch.

The butcher, pleased with his bargain, counted the five hundred crowns to him, and was about to go off with the beeves, when Fanch called out,—

“But the tail? I must have the tail.”

“You insist upon that, do you?”

“Why, certainly, and nothing is concluded without it.”

Then the butcher cut off the tail of one of the beeves and gave it to him.

When the butcher was gone with all the beeves, Fanch climbed up into an oak-tree, with the tail, and began crying out with all his might, “Help! help! help at once!”

They heard his cry at the castle, and sent a footman to see what was the matter. Fanch, seeing the footman coming, called to him,—

“Run to the castle and tell the lord to come here as quickly as possible, or all of his beeves will be lost.”

So the footman ran to the castle and said to the lord,—

“Come as fast as you can to the field, master, or all your beeves will be lost.”

The lord ran to the field, and saw Fanch up in a tree, and apparently holding on with all his might to the tail of a beef.

“What are you doing there, Fanch, and where are the beeves?”

“Come up here quickly, my poor master, come up quickly, or you will lose them all! A terrible whirlwind came suddenly and carried them up to the sky, each holding on to the other by the tail! I seized the tail of the last one, and have been lifted up here. I am still holding on, but for goodness’ sake make haste and come to my assistance, or I shall have to let go; I cannot hold on any longer.”

So the lord went up and took hold of the tail also. But as soon as he did so, Fanch let go, and his master fell to the ground, taking the tail along.

“Alas! my poor master,” said he then, “we held on so long that the tail is all that is left; the beeves have gone to heaven.”

The poor lord, all mangled and bleeding, swore and stormed.

“Miserable wretch, accursed rascal! you have almost killed me!”

“Why, master, are you angry?” asked Fanch quietly; he was still in the tree.

“And who would not be angry?”

“Well, you know your conditions, and I shall strip off your skin.”

“But I did not say that I was angry, though indeed I think I had good right to be. You will ruin me! I shall be thankful if you do not kill me.”

Then the lord returned to his house, rubbing his back and trying to think how he could get rid of such a rascal.

The next day he sent Fanch to take care of his hogs. A hog merchant passed by on his way to the fair at Lannion.

“Will you sell me your hogs, my boy?” said he to Fanch.

“I should like nothing better,” he replied.

“How much will you take?”

“Two hundred crowns and the tail of one of them.”

“Agreed! It is a bargain!”

“And the money on the spot?”

“Yes, yes, on the spot.”

Then the merchant paid two hundred crowns and went away, taking the hogs along.

There was a pond near by, part of which was all marshy and filled up with grass and branches of trees. Fanch waded in up to his stomach, and began to call out as loud as he could. He had stuck the large end of the hog’s tail which he had, down in the mud, and was pretending to pull it up with all his might, crying, “Help! help! help, quickly!” The lord was walking in the wood, not far from the pond, and ran to his assistance on hearing his cries.

“What is the matter now?” asked he, seeing Fanch in the mud up to his stomach.

“Come quickly and help me, my poor master, or we shall lose all of them. An animal unlike any I ever saw before,—a frightful creature, a real demon, I believe,—came up out of the pond, when I was not dreaming of such a thing, and then went back again dragging my hogs after him, all holding on to each other by the tail. I caught the tail of the last one, you see! Come help me to pull it up, for if we can pull this one up, all the others will come after it. Come quickly, for I am ready to let go.”

Then the lord went into the pond without hesitation, and began to pull on the tail with Fanch. But the latter, letting go suddenly, he fell, and sinking into the mud, was almost stifled.

“Alas! they are all lost! They are gone below!” cried Fanch.

The other, after getting out with great difficulty, swore and threatened.

“Why, master, are you angry?” said Fanch to him, jeeringly.

“Leave me in peace, you villain! I wish you were in purgatory!”

“If you are angry, you have only to give me my hundred crowns, with the bag of farthings, according to our agreement, and I will go whenever you wish; but before I go, you know, I will strip off your skin from your neck—”

“Who said I was angry? Though indeed I had great reason, I think; you will ruin me utterly!”

“What could I do? I could not prevent the demon’s taking off your hogs.”

“To-morrow I will give you another occupation, and as soon as the year is ended you shall go, for you are good for nothing.”

“As you like; but when will my year be ended?”

“When the cuckoo sings.”

The next day the lord said to Fanch,—

“Take this gun and come with me into the woods; the poachers are destroying all my game, and the poor people of the whole country provide themselves with wood at my expense; I want to see after these matters.”

“Very well,” said Fanch, “that suits me.”

And he put his gun on his shoulder, and followed his master to the woods. At the edge of it they saw an old woman who had a great load on her back.

“Fire at her!” said the lord to Fanch.

“Must I do it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And if I kill her?”

“So much the worse for her! That will teach her to steal my wood.”

So Fanch fired, bang! and the old woman rolled over on the ground with her load. They went to her.

“She is dead!” said the lord.

“Quite,” said Fanch, “unfortunately for you, for I should not like to be in your place. This old woman has two sons,—two jolly fellows, upon my word, and when they know that you have killed their mother,—”

“But it was you who killed her.”

“Yes, but by your order; I am your servant, and I must obey you, but you will have to pay for it.”

“You frighten me; go quickly to the castle and bring me two shovels, so we can bury her in the earth and no one will know anything about it. You will find them in the passage near the chamber of my wife and daughter. Put them in a bag, so that no one can see, and return quickly.”

Fanch went to the castle and found the door of the lady’s room open, where she was sitting with her daughter. He entered and said,—

“My master has ordered me to put both of you in a bag.”

“What is it you say, idiot? You must have lost your senses!”

“You shall hear him say it himself.”

And going to the window, he called out to the lord, who was waiting for him below,—

“Both of them in a bag, shall I not, my lord?”

“Yes, both, and make haste.” (He meant the two shovels.)

“Do you hear? I must obey my master.”

And he seized upon the mother and daughter, and succeeded, not without difficulty,—for they resisted as well as they could,—in shutting them up in a bag. The lord, hearing the noise, and their screams, ran up to see what was going on.

“What trick have you played on me now, miserable wretch, demon incarnate?” cried he, seeing the bag rolling on the floor, and hearing the screams that came out of it.

“Well, I put them in the bag; did you not tell me to bring you two women in a bag?”

“Two women, idiot!”

“Bless me! I thought you said two women.”

“I have a good mind to run my sword through your body.”

“You are angry it seems to me, my master.”

“Angry, angry,—and who would not be in my place?”

“Oh! then I am going to strip off your skin.”

“But I am not angry at all. I said nothing of the sort; you know very well that I have a good temper, and that I never get angry. But go, run quickly to the woods, take two shovels in a bag,—you understand now, two shovels,—and do what I told you.”

The lord then pulled his wife and daughter out of the bag, and consulted with them upon some means of getting rid of Fanch as soon as possible.

“It was agreed,” said the lady, “that his year should end when the cuckoo began to sing.”

“Yes, but it is not yet time for the cuckoo to sing.”

“Pshaw! that boy is such a fool, he would never know what time of the year the cuckoo ought to sing; to-morrow I will make the cuckoo sing myself.”

The next day, just as Fanch was going to the wood with his gun on his shoulder, he heard, “Cuckoo! cuckoo!” from a large oak-tree which was near the gate of the court-yard.

“What is this?” said he; “does the cuckoo sing in the month of February in this country? I will teach you in a moment, how to wait till the right time comes to sing, vile bird!”

And he fired, bang! and the lady fell dead at his feet.

“Why, what a singular cuckoo!” said he.

“Ah! you demon!” cried the lord, “you have killed my wife! I will kill you, too, as I would a dog.”

“Oh! this time you are angry, my master, you are very angry, and I shall strip off your skin.”

“No, I am not angry, because I never get angry, myself. But from this moment, you shall never have anything to do at the castle but eat, drink, and go walking; for you would bring me to beggary!”

“Oh! delightful! that is just what I had wished for.”

One day the cuckoo sang at last in the month of May. They gave Fanch his hundred crowns and his bag of farthings, and bade him farewell. And he returned to his country, without having had his skin stripped off; more fortunate than many others who had been before him at this castle; for there was a room there where you could see a great number of skins hung up against the wall.

With the five hundred crowns that he got for the beeves, the two hundred crowns for the hogs, and the hundred crowns and the bag of farthings for his wages, he found himself quite rich. Moreover, he married one of the richest heiresses in his neighborhood, and for three whole days there were holidays and feasts, to which all the people in the neighborhood were invited, the poor as well as the rich.

Told in Breton by Barbe Tassel, Plouaret, December, 1868.

F. M. Luzel.