The Toilers of the Sea by Victor Hugo Page A

the Huguenot population. Why? We do not know.
    What is certain is that this minority was formerly much troubled by the Devil. He had taken a liking to the Catholics and sought to associate with them, which might suggest that the Devil is more Catholic than Protestant. One of his most intolerable familiarities was to pay nocturnal visits to Catholic marital beds at a time when the husband was fast asleep and the wife just falling asleep. This inevitably gave rise to misunderstandings. Patouillet believed that Voltaire was conceived in this way, and this is not at all improbable. This case is well known, and is described in books of exorcisms under the heading “De erroribus nocturnis et de semine diabolorum.” The Devil was particularly active at St. Helier toward the end of the last century, probably as a punishment for the crimes of the Revolution. The consequences of the excesses of the Revolution are incalculable. At any rate this possible arrival of the Devil at night, when people cannot see clearly, when they are asleep, embarrassed many orthodox women believers. To give birth to a Voltaire is not a pleasant thought. One woman, worried, consulted her confessor about the best way to clear up misunderstandings of this kind. The confessor replied: “To be sure whether it is the Devil or your husband, feel his forehead, and if you find horns you will be sure. . . .” “Sure of what?” asked the woman.
    The house in which Gilliatt lived had been haunted but was so no longer. But this made it all the more suspect. Everyone knows that when a witch or warlock takes up residence in a house the Devil decides that the house is sufficiently well kept and obligingly gives up calling there unless he is summoned, like the doctor.
    The house was called the Bû de la Rue. It was situated at the tip of a tongue of land, or rather of rock, that formed a small private anchorage in the creek of Houmet Paradis. 70 The water here is deep. The house stood by itself on the point, almost off the island, with just enough land to make a small garden. The garden was sometimes drowned by high tides. Between St. Sampson harbor and the creek of Houmet Paradis is the large hill that is crowned by the complex of towers and ivy known as Vale Castle or the Archangel’s Castle, so that the Bû de la Rue could not be seen from St. Sampson.
    Witches and warlocks are by no means uncommon on Guernsey. In certain parishes they still practice their profession, and the nineteenth century makes no difference. Some of their practices are decidedly criminal. They boil up gold. They gather herbs at midnight. They cast the evil eye on people’s livestock. They are consulted by the local people; they ask to be brought the “water” of sick people in bottles, and are heard to murmur, “The water seems very sad.” One day in March 1856 one of them found seven devils in the “water” of a sick person. They are fearsome and are feared. One of them recently bewitched a baker “along with his oven.” Another is villainous enough to wafer and seal with great care envelopes “that contain nothing.” Another again goes so far as to have three bottles labeled
B
on a shelf in his house. These monstrous facts are well authenticated. Some witches and warlocks are obliging and, for two or three guineas, will take over your illnesses. Then they writhe about on their bed, groaning. While they are writhing you say: “There! I’m all right again.” Others will cure you of all ills by tying a handkerchief around your body: a remedy so simple that it is surprising no one has thought of it before. Last century the Royal Court of Guernsey put them on a pile of faggots and burned them alive. Nowadays it sentences them to eight weeks in prison, four weeks on bread and water alternating with four weeks in solitary confinement. Amant alterna catenae. 71
    The last witch-burning on Guernsey was in 1747. It took