LEGENDS AND FOLKLORE

 

The Witches of Rocqueberg

On the south coast of the island in the Parish of St. Clement is a rocky promontory, from which rises a granite outcrop known as Rocqueberg.

According to legend, this eerie place was the meeting place for witches and devil worshipers and no one in their right mind would go near the place on a Friday night, especially at a full moon. On one part of the rock, the cloven hoof print of the devil is said to be clearly visible.

Two specific legends, dating back to the 17th and 18th centuries are associated with this eerie place:

The first involves a young fisherman named Hubert. Hubert was engaged to be married to a young girl called Madeleine. After leaving Madeleine each night, he had to walk by Rocqueberg and became fascinated with the area. One night he saw some beautiful girls dancing around the rock and they invited him to join them the next night. Madeleine, on hearing of the planned meeting, feared for Hubert and followed him. To her horror, she found him surrounded by dancing witches. They had put a spell on the young man and he could only see them as beautiful maidens. Madeleine took a crucifix that she had hidden under her coat and threw it at the old hags. Hubert was freed from the spell and the witches disappeared, their shreaks echoing into the night - never to be seen again.

The second story also involves a young fisherman This part of the Jersey coastline is very treacherous because there are many rocks hidden under the water. Legend has it that the witches of Rocqueberg would only allow fishermen to pass this headland safely if they were thrown every thirteenth fish from the fishermen's catch. If they failed to do this the hags would cast a spell to raise a great storm, and the boat would be smashed to pieces on the rocks.

One brave fisherman refused to do this - instead he took a five rayed starfish from his catch, cut off one of the arms and threw it at the witches, shouting: 'The cross is my passport'. It landed amongst the witches in the shape of the cross and they disappeared, never to be seen again.

You can read more about witchcraft in the island by visiting here.

 

The Lost Parish Bells

By the middle of the sixteenth century the effects of Reformation of the church in Europe had reached Jersey. Royal Injunctions were issued for the immediate destruction of all objects of superstition from the church and sadly the Parish bells fell into this category.

All but one Parish bell were removed and sent to St. Malo where they were 'drowned' in the entrance to the harbour.

The legend is that when there is a strong east wind, the bells of Jersey can still be heard ringing.

 

The Ghost of Waterworks Valley

Once a year, at midnight, a ghostly horse-drawn carriage is said to rumble its way down the winding road in Waterworks Valley. The coachman has white ribbons attached to his horse whip and in the back of the carriage sits a young girl in a bridal gown. If you are unlucky enough to see this ghostly carriage you will be terrified as it passes to see that the young bride has no face.

The legend tells us that the poor young girl was jilted by her lover and upon returning home she was so distraught that she committed suicide. She is now doomed to retrace her journey every year.

 

 

The Sunken Forest and Lost Manor House of St. Ouen

Long ago a fine manor house stood in the middle of a forest in the Parish of St. Ouen. One night, when there was a very high tide, a great storm whipped up, the winds roared and the seas rose until they engulfed both house and forest. They disappeared beneath the waves, never to be seen again.

Like all legends, this one has its basis in fact. At a low tide in St. Ouens it is possible to walk out onto the sands where you will find the remains of ancient tree stumps and fossilized acorns.

 

The Beast of La Grande Charriere

Many years ago the residents of the Parish of St. Clement were terrified by the roar of what sounded like a mighty bull whenever there was an exceptionally low tide. It was so loud that the cries of the beast could be heard the entire length of the bay.

By pure chance the mystery was solved one day when a group of fishermen followed the tide out and discovered that the 'roar' was in fact nothing more than the noise of water draining through a fissure in some rocks. They plugged the hole and the beast's cries were never heard again.

 

The Dragon Slayer

Long ago a ferocious dragon lived in the marshes of St. Lawrence, tormenting the Jersey people. On hearing of their plight, the Lord of Hambye in Normandy decided to slay the beast and free the islanders of this terrible curse.

The brave Lord traveled to Jersey and accomplished his task, but as he slept that night his scheming squire killed the good man and traveled back to France with the head of the dragon. He told the lady of Hambye that it was his master's dying wish that he marry the lady. Of course the squire was celebrated as a hero and thought his plan had worked, but his guilty conscience betrayed him one night and he talked in his sleep. He was tried and sentenced to death.

The Lady of Hambye ordered that a huge mound be built on the spot where her husband had died. This later became known as 'La Hougue Bie'. 'Hougue' is probably derived from the Nordic word 'Haugr' (as in 'mound') and it is possible that 'Bie' is a shortening of the name 'Hambye'.

 

 

A Christmas Prayer

Amongst old Jersey farmers it is the belief that on Christmas Eve cows will kneel and pray to give thanks for the birth of Christ. Any human witnessing this phenomenon will die before the year is out, and to this day some of the older farmers make it a point to bed down their cattle well before dinner.

 

Le Chien de Bouley

On the north coast of the island is Bouley Bay - a quiet, rocky bay, surrounded by cliffs and accessible only by a single winding road. This is the setting for one of Jersey's best known legends 'Le Chien de Bouley'.

An enormous black dog with huge glaring eyes was said to roam the area and the fear of this monstrous creature kept locals well away from the area at night.

A likely explanation for this legend is that it was not a dog at all that roamed around, but a man dressed in a terrifying costume. Many of the smaller bays around the island were a perfect landing place for smugglers. Bouley Bay could well have been a prime place to land contraband, and what better way to keep the curious away from the area than to stage sightings of a devil-like ferocious black dog?

  

Geoffroy's Leap

Between Gorey Castle and Anne Port Bay is an area of rocky headland known as 'Geoffroy's Leap'.

Geoffroy was a convicted criminal and his punishment was to be thrown off the rocky headland. A large crowd gathered to watch the gruesome event but luck was with Geoffroy and he somehow managed to survive the fall and swam back to shore.

Some of the crowd felt that the sentence had not been carried out and demanded that he jump again, others felt that, having survived, justice had been done and his life should be spared.

Geoffroy offered to settle the argument by jumping again. This time he was not so lucky and did not survive.

 

The Jersey Crapaud (pronounced 'crappo')

I've saved this one until last...Jersey people are sometimes referred to as 'crapauds' (toads) by residents of our sister island, Guernsey. How did we get this less than flattering name? The legend goes like this:

When St. Patrick arrived in Jersey he was unfortunately pelted with stones and insulted. On his arrival in our smaller, sister island of Guernsey, however, he received a very warm welcome from its in habitants. He liked Guernsey very much and decided he would lay claim to it. St. George was also in Guernsey at the time, and he, too had decided to lay claim to the island. Rather than argue the wise saints decided that neither would have it, but before they left they would bestow gifts on the hospitable islanders.

St. George was standing by a small stream and he decided to bless the waters of the stream so that they had the power to heal.

St. Patrick gathered all the nasty creatures that inhabited Guernsey at the time and promptly went back to Jersey and deposited them all there. From then on Guernsey would be free of everything nasty and Jersey would have more than its fair share of snakes and toads.

I suppose if we were rude to a Saint all those years ago then we deserve our unflattering name. There is, however, a gentle rivalry between Jersey and Guernsey and we tend to get our own back by calling Guernsey people 'ane' (donkey), a reflection, I am told, of their innate laziness.

 

 

 

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