Basque Legends; With an Essay on the Basque Language

Witches still appear in the shape of cats, but generally black ones. About two years ago we were told of a man who, at midnight, chopped off the ear of a black cat, who was thus bewitching his cattle, and lo! in the morning it was a woman’s ear, with an earring still in it. He deposited it in the Mairie, and we might see it there; but we did not go to look, as it was some distance off.

70

Literally, “red misery.” In Basque the most intense wretchedness of any kind is always called “red.”

71

There are several superstitions connected with cross-roads in the Pays Basque. When a person dies, the bedding or mattress is sometimes burnt at the nearest cross-roads, and every passer-by says a “Paternoster” for the benefit of the deceased. This custom is becoming extinct, but is still observed in old families.

72

This is, of course, only a mispronunciation of “Dominus tecum”—“The Lord be with you.” Compare the opposite effect of “God save us,” in Croker’s tale of “Master and Man,” pp. 96, 97.

73

See notes to “Juan Dekos,” p. 146.

74

I think this word occurs in some “Chanson de Gestes,” and in the Basque “Pastorales,” as a Mahommedan devil. If not, it is probably our own “Duke of Marlborough” thus transformed. Cf. the song, ”Malbrouk s’en va en guerre.”

75

This is again, “red, angry.”

76

Cf. Campbell, “The Tale of Connal,” Vol. I., p. 142.

77

This looks uncommonly like “Ho, you!” but it is given by Salaberry as a Basque cry, “Appel par un cri fort, par la voix élevée.” “Play,” as an exclamation to begin at games of ball, has no meaning in Basque, and is believed to come from the English. We have borrowed “Jingo,” “by Jingo,” from “Jinkoa,” “the deity.”

78

In Campbell’s first tale, “The Young King of Easaidh Ruadh, the hero is assisted by a dog, a falcon, and an otter. Cf. the notes in the translation of this tale in Brueyre’s “Contes de la Grande Bretagne;” cf. also, “The Sea-Maiden,” pp. 73 and 94, for a still closer resemblance.

79

Cf. “Tabakiera,” p. 94, and “Old Deccan Days,” pp. 83–91. It is curious to hear of the Red Sea from narrators so far apart, on opposite sides, as the Lingaets of the Deccan and the Basques, neither of whom, probably, had the most distant idea of its geographical position; certainly our Basque narrators had not.

80

In Campbell’s “Sea-Maiden,” the hero has only to think of the animals, and they are at his side; but he is not transformed into them.

81

Campbell refers to “The Giant who had no Heart in his Body,” “Norse Tales,” 1859. See his references, and those in the “Contes Populaires de la Grande Bretagne,” cited above. M. d’Abbadie has also communicated to us the outlines of a wild Tartaro story, told in Basque, in which the hero “fights with a body without a soul.”

82

Cf. Campbell’s “Tales,” before quoted, and “Old Deccan Days” (“Punchkin”), pp. 14, 15, for the whole of this incident.

83

Malbrouk seems now to assume the character of “Hermes, the clever thief.” If we mistake not, this cow appears also in Indian mythology.

84

For the whole of this tale compare Campbell’s “Sea-Maiden,” Vol. I., p. 71. The sea-maiden takes the place of the fish. Besides the three sons, the three foals, and the three puppies, three trees grow behind the house, and serve as a sign like the well boiling. Bladé’s “Les Deux Jumeaux,” in his “Contes Agenais,” is identical with this; cf. also Köhler’s notes, p. 148.

85

Much more is made of the sword in the Gaelic tales. In them it is always a magic or a mystic weapon.

86

This episode of the fight with the seven-headed beast is introduced in the same way in the Gaelic—“The Sea-Maiden,” pp. 76, 77. Cf. also “Rouge Etin,” in Brueyre.

87

In the Gaelic the charcoal-burner is a general.

88

This takes place not on the wedding night, but some time after in the “Sea-Maiden,” p. 82. The wife at prayers and the husband standing by indifferent is but too true a picture, we fear.

89

The “Sea-Maiden,” p. 82—“Go not, go not,” said she, “there never went man to this castle that returned.” See below.

90

Basque, “as must needs be.”

91

We were also told, in Basque, “The Powerful Lantern,” which was the story of Aladdin’s lamp, with only one incident omitted. The present is much more like the Gaelic, but there (Campbell, Vol. II., 297–9) it is a lady who gives the snuff-box, which says, “Eege gu djeege,” on being opened. Campbell’s note is:—“The explanation of these sounds was, that it was ‘as if they were asking.’ The sounds mean nothing, that I know of, in any language.” “Que quieres?” is pure Spanish—“What dost thou want?”

92

Cf. MacCraw’s variation in Campbell, note, Vol. II., p. 301, for the rest of the story.

93

“Power” in these tales, in the Basque, seems always to mean “magic power,” some wonder-working gift or charm.

94

In Campbell’s versions it is “the realm of the king under the waves,” or “the realm of the rats;” but a voyage has to be made to that, and a rat takes the place of the servant in stealing the box again for the hero. “The Deccan Tales” mention the Red Sea.

95

The south wind is the most dreaded local wind in the Pays Basque. It is always hot, and sometimes very violent. After two or three days it usually brings on a violent thunderstorm and rain.

96

The lad here calls his snuff-box affectionately “Que quieres,” as if that were its name.

97

The likeness and the variation of this tale from Campbell’s Gaelic one, “The Widow’s Son,” etc., Vol. II., pp. 293–303, prove that both must be independent versions of some original like Aladdin’s lamp, but not mere copies of it.

98

This doubling of a price is to get a thing more quickly done—in half the usual time. At least, that was the narrator’s explanation.

99

These three clever men are found in Gascon (Bladé’s “Armagnac Tales,” p. 10), in Spanish, in Campbell’s “The King of Lochlin’s Three Daughters,” Vol. I., p. 238, and in many others. Cf. Brueyre, pp. 113–120, and notes.

100

Cf. The tale from the Servian, in Naaké’s “Slavonic Fairy Tales,” p. 7.

101

i.e., the piece of “braise,” or glowing ember from the wood fire, which is always nearly on a level with the floor in a Basque house.

102

Through the whole of the South of Europe, in Greece, Italy, Spain, Portugal, etc., the firing of guns, pistols, crackers, is universal at all kinds of “fêtes,” especially religious ones; the half-deafened foreigner often longs for some such law as that infringed by “Mahistruba;” but cf. “Juan de Kalais,” p. 151.

103

Cf. supra, p. 38, “The Serpent in the Wood.”

104

This tale is somewhat like Campbell’s “Three Soldiers,” with the variations, Vol. I., p. 176. It is said to be very widely spread.

105

This is an interpolation by the narrator.

106

At Bayonne one part of the town is called “Les Cinq Cantons.”

107

For like involuntary sleep, where the lady cannot awaken her lover, cf. Campbell, “The Widow’s Son,” Vol. II., p. 296.

108

For the incident of the eagle, cf. Campbell, “The King of Lochlin’s Three Daughters,” Vol. I., pp. 238–9:—“When they were at the mouth of the hole, the stots were expended, and she was going to turn back; but he took a steak out of his own thigh, and he gave this to the eagle, and with one spring she was on the surface of the earth.”

109

Cf. the horse in Naaké’s “Slavonic Fairy Tales,” “Ivan Kruchina” (from the Russian), p. 117, and “the dun shaggy filly,” in Campbell’s “The Young King of Easaidh Ruadh,” Vol. I., p. 5, and elsewhere; also the horse in the “Uso-Andre,” and “The Unknown Animal,” below. Campbell, Vol. I., p. 63, remarks that the horses in Gaelic stories are always feminine; but they are red as well as grey.

110

In this, and the following tale, Ezkabi’s golden hair is evidently like “Diarmaid’s” beauty spot. “He used to keep his cap always down on the beauty-spot; for any woman that might chance to see it, she would be in love with him.”—Campbell’s “Diarmaid and Grainne,” Vol. III., p. 39, notes and variations.

111

Compare the following legend, and “Old Deccan Days” (“Truth’s Triumph”), pp. 62, 63.

112

Cf. above, “The Grateful Tartaro and the Heren-Suge,” p. 22.

113

Cf. note, supra, p. 113, and Grainne seeing Diarmaid as he lifts his cap or helmet. These beauty-spots seem to be the counterpart of Aphrodite’s cestus.

114

Cf. the two golden pears in the Spanish “Juanillo el Loco,” Patrañas, p. 38, given in exchange for the same water.

115

Cf. below, “The Singing Tree,” etc., p. 176.

116

Cf. “Old Deccan Days,” p. 139; and Cox, “Aryan Mythology,” Vol. I., p. 160, seq.

117

Cf. below, p. 156.

118

The word “Ezkabi” is “the scab;” he either really had it, as in the next version, or was supposed to have it from keeping his head covered, as in this. In both cases the hair is most beautiful, precious, golden, and love-compelling.

119

Cf. with the whole of this tale, Campbell’s second tale, “The Battle of the Birds,” and the variations, especially the one of “Auburn Mary,” Vol. I. pp. 52–58.

120

Cf. Baring Gould’s chapter, “Swan-Maidens”—“Curious Myths of the Middle Ages,” p. 561, seq.

121

In the Gaelic the labours are more like those of Herakles—to clean out a byre, to shoot birds, and to rob a magpie’s nest. The Basque incidents seem to fit better into a climatological myth.

122

In “Old Deccan Days” (“Truth’s Triumph”) it is the hair and not the comb that does the wonders. In M. Cerquand’s “Récits” the comb is an attribute of the Basa-Andre.

123

In Campbell’s “Battle of the Birds” the hero always sleeps while the giant’s daughter does his task for him.

124

Here the narrator interposed, “You see it is just as it happens; the women are always the worst.” But in Campbell it is the giant himself who says, “My own daughter’s tricks are trying me.”

125

In Campbell the finger is lost in climbing the tree to get the magpie’s nest; but, as here, the bride is recognised by the loss of it.

126

In “Auburn Mary” the hero has to catch a young filly, “with an old, black, rusty bridle.”—Campbell, Vol. I., p. 55.

127

See below for a second marriage. In Campbell, p. 37, there is a double marriage.

128

In Campbell, p. 55, “Auburn Mary,” there is the same “talking spittle.”

129

Cf. “Truth’s Triumph,” in “Old Deccan Days;” and Campbell, pp. 33, 34; and supra, “Ezkabi-Fidel,” pp. 113, 114.

130

Campbell, pp. 34 and 56.

131

In Campbell, it is an old greyhound that kisses him, but with the same result, pp. 34 and 56.

132

In one of Campbell’s “Variations,” pp. 51, 52, the ending is something like this. In more than one, the hero marries another bride in his period of oblivion.

133

Cf. Campbell’s “The Chest,” Vol. II., p. 1. The tales seem almost identical.

134

The usual term for “the Pope;” the French, “Le Saint-Père.”

135

This is a curious testimony to an ancient practice. In the same way the Basques call “La Fête Dieu,” “Corpus Christi Day;” “Phestaberria,” “The New Feast,” though it was instituted in the thirteenth century.

136

This is a very old and wide-spread story. The Gaelic versions are given in Campbell, Vol. II., p. 239, seq. Cf. also Cox, “Aryan Mythology,” Vol. I., p. 111, seq.

137

In the Gaelic it is the bishop’s horse.

138

This is in the Norse and Teutonic versions.

139

This, again, is more like the Gaelic.

140

This name was written thus phonetically from the Basque, and it was not till I saw the Gaelic tale that it struck me that it is simply “Jean d’Ecosse”—“John of Scotland,” or “Scotch John.” In the analogous tale in Campbell, “The Barra Widow’s Son,” Vol. II., p. 111, we read—“It was Iain Albanach” (literally, Jean d’Ecosse) “the boy was called at first; he gave him the name of Iain Mac a Maighstir” (John, master’s son) “because he himself was master of the vessel.” This seems decisive that in some way the Basques have borrowed this tale from the Kelts since their occupation of the Hebrides. The Spanish versions, too, are termed “The Irish Princess” (Patrañas, p. 234).

141

See note on preceding page, and Campbell, Vol. II., p. 3.

142

Whether this refers to any real custom about dead men’s debts, we cannot say. It occurs in the Gaelic, in “Ezkabi,” and in other tales and versions, notably in the Spanish; see as above, and “The White Blackbird,” below, p. 182.

143

In other versions it is the soul of the man whose debts he had paid, either in the shape of a hermit or a fox. In the Gaelic it is left vague and undetermined. He is called “one,” or “the asker.” (Campbell, Vol. II., pp. 119 and 121.) The same contract is made in each case, and with the same result.

144

This is, of course, “Jean de Calais”—“John of Calais”—and would seem to show that it was through some French, and not Spanish, versions that the Basques learnt it.

145

This seems inserted from “Mahistruba,” p. 105.

146

In the Gaelic it is a general, as here, and not a lame second officer, as in “Juan Dekos,” who wants to marry the lady, and who sets the hero on a desert island.—Campbell, Vol. II., p. 118.

147

See note on page 149.

148

We had put this tale aside, with some others, as worthless, until we found from Campbell how widely it is spread. The earliest version seems to be the Italian of Straparola, 1567. The first incident there, persuading that a pig is an ass, we have in another Basque tale; the last two incidents are identical. They are found, too, in the Gaelic, though in separate versions. For killing the wife, see Campbell, Vol. II., p. 232; for the last, pp. 222 and 234. Cf. also “The Three Widows,” with all the variations and notes, Vol. II., pp. 218–238. Is this a case of transmission from one people to another of the Italian of Straparola? or do all the versions point back to some lost original? and is there, or can there be, any allegorical meaning to such a tale? The answer to these questions seems of great importance, and the present tale to be a good instance to work upon. Petarillo seems an Italian name.

149

“Peau d’Ane.”

150

“Fidèle.”

151

The narrator was here asked “if the place of the dance was at the king’s palace.” “No,” she gravely replied, “it was at the mairie.” In other tales it is on the “place,” i.e., the open square or market-place which there is in most French towns and villages in the south. It is generally in front either of the church or of the mairie.

152

This was explained as meaning “Beaten with the Slipper.” This version came from the Cascarrot, or half-gipsy quarter of St. Jean de Luz, and may not be purely Basque. Except in one or two words the language is correct enough—for St. Jean de Luz.

153

At an exclamation of surprise from one of the auditors, the narrator piously said, “It is the Holy Virgin who permitted all that.”

154

Cf. “The Serpent in the Wood,” p. 38.

155

Literally, “be full.”

156

Cf. the well behind the house in the “Fisherman and his Three Sons,” p. 87.

157

Cf. “Dragon,” p. 108.]

158

Here the narrator evidently forgot to tell about the child’s being exposed, and the gardener finding it, as appears by the sequel.

159

Cf. the well that boils in “The Fisherman and his Three Sons,” and the ring in “Beauty and the Beast.”

160

Can Bunyan have taken his description of the “Valley of the Shadow of Death,” in the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” partly from such tales as this?

161

Cf. above in “Ezkabi” and “Juan Dekos.” There is some similarity between this tale and Campbell’s “Mac Ian Direach,” Vol. II., p. 328. Compare also “The Greek Princess and the Young Gardener,” in Kennedy’s “Fireside Stories of Ireland.” We know only the French translation of this last in Brueyre, p. 145. “Le Merle Blanc” is one of the best known of French stories.

162

Cf. “Juan Dekos” for paying the debts, and the fox. In the Gaelic the fox is called “An Gille Mairtean,” “the fox.” (Campbell, Vol. II., p. 329, seq.)

163

Cf. the stealing of the bay filly in Campbell’s “Mac Iain Direach,” Vol. II., p. 334.

164

Huge cisterns, partly underground, for holding rain water, are common in the Pays Basque. They are, of course, near the houses off which the water drains.

165

Cf. “Basa-Jauna,” p. 49.

166

Cf. “Basa-Jauna,” p. 49.

167

A piece of the braise, or burnt stick. This is constantly done all through the South of France, where wood is burnt. If your fire is out you run to get a stick from your neighbour’s fire.

168

Cf. note to “Basa-Jauna,” p. 49.

169

Cf. “Old Deccan Days” (“Truth’s Triumph”), pp. 57–58. The little girl is the rose tree there among the mango trees, her brothers. Cows are very gentle in the Pays Basque, and are often petted, especially the tiny black and white Breton ones. We have known a strong man weep at the death of a favourite cow, and this one of ten others.

170

The Ranee makes the same conditions in “Truth’s Triumph”—“You will let me take these crows” (her brothers) “with me, will you not? for I love them dearly, and I cannot go away unless they may come too.”—“Old Deccan Days,” p. 59.

171

This was recited to M. Vinson, and has been published by him in the “Revue de Linguistique,” p. 241 (Janvier, 1876). We have since heard of a longer form preserved at Renteria, in Guipuzcoa.

172

The first portion of this tale is told of the Tartaro as “Twenty-Four.” We suspect that it is an old Tartaro tale joined on to a Christopheros legend, unless indeed this be the very peculiarity and meaning of the Christopheros legend—the enlisting of the old gods into the service of Christ, and including the most human of them in His salvation. The last part of the tale is very widely spread. It is given by F. Caballero in the Spanish, and by Cenac-Moncaut, “Le Sac de la Ramée,” p. 57—“Littérature Populaire de la Gascogne.” There is something like it in Campbell’s “Tale of the Soldier,” Vol. II., p.276.

173

This seems to be one of the many variations of the “Golden Legend,” the “Aurea Legenda” which Longfellow has so well versified.

174

The idea of this incident is not confined to Christianity; a similar story is told of a Mahommedan saint, and a caliph or king. The scene of the story is Cairo.

175

As is plain by the sequel, where the angel hangs him for a moment, the original story must have had “hanged.” This is a good example of the way in which the dress of a story gets gradually altered, as old customs are forgotten among a people.

176

This whole picture is, unhappily, more true to life than one would think at first sight. The whole history of the Cagots, and a good deal of that of witchcraft, shows how virulent this kind of irrational dislikes is, and how difficult to deal with and to overcome when once they have been introduced into a rural population.

177

I am not unaware that certain portions of the theory above stated have been recently disputed, especially by Mr. Sayce (“Principles of Comparative Philology,” Trübner, London, 1874). But I am unable, for the present at least, to accept all these criticisms, and I have here no opportunity of discussing them fully, or to good purpose.

178

“Poésies Basques de Bernard Dechepare.” A most careful reprint, word for word, was published by Cazals, Bayonne, in 1874.

179

An exact reprint of the Gospel of St. Mark in this version, with notes, &c., by M. J. Vinson, was also published at Bayonne (Cazals), 1874.

180

For more minute and complete topographical details, see the excellent linguistic maps of Prince L. L. Bonaparte, which are models of the application of geography to the aid of philological study. The peculiar dialect spoken in every village, and, in some instances, in almost every house, may be there traced.

181

M. Van Eys has consecrated an excellent article to these etymologies in the “Revue de Linguistique,” Juillet, 1874, pp. 3–15.

182

It must, however, be acknowledged that M. Luchaire, in various pamphlets relating to the ancient toponymy of Spain, has made certain of these explanations more acceptable.

183

A form of skull, postero-dolichocephalous, with good facial angle, ortho- or opistho-gnathous, but of comparatively small cerebral content, is claimed by some as peculiar to the Basques.—W. W.

184

The names of some of the most famous improvisatori, or Coblacaris, as they are called in Basque, have been preserved: Fernando Amezquetarra, in the Spanish Provinces; and Pierre Topet dit Etchehun, and Bernard Mardo of Barcus, in the French Pays Basque.

185

An exception is occasionally made in the case of the “Satans,” as the part is almost too fatiguing for girls.

186

This little wand plays an important part of its own. In many of its uses it resembles the Caduceus of Mercury; a touch from it renders invisible, puts to death, or restores to life at the will of the Satanic possessor. It appears also as given to the hero in many of the “Legends;” cf. pp. 34, 35, above.

187

This MS. was kindly lent by M. J. Vinson, to whom we have been so often indebted.

188

Ercilla, the author of the “Araucana,” was however of Basque blood, and Basque names occur frequently among the poets and dramatists of Spain, especially in recent years.

189

The claim put forth in the “Revista Euskara,” p. 61, April, 1878, may be fully conceded:—”Si; éste es el carácter distintivo de la poesía euskara; su exquisita moralidad. Jamás se encuentra en ella nada que se parezca, ni á una apología del vicio, ni á una excusa del crimen.”

190

“Cancionero Vasco, acompañado de traducciones castellanas, juicios criticos,” etc., por José Manterola. San Sebastian. 1877–8. Serie I., 2, p. 39.

191

Ibargüen’s words after quoting the song are: “Por este órden referidas yba este cantar contando toda esta historia que habemos dicho atrás en este capítulo de las guerras ceviles que en cinco años Octaviano Cesar Augusto hizo en esta Provincia Cantábrica, y aunque esta hereciat (historical song) tenga otros muy muchos versos rodados tan solamente dellos he tomado los diez e seis primeros, porque los demas estaban carcomidos, y los pongo aquí para el que fuere bascongado, contentándome con solo ellos ebitando largueza importuna de los demás, que el pergamino está muy roñoso e viejo,” cited in the “Cancionero Vasco,” 2, iii., pp. 4, 5.