Here is the story of the Morgans of the island of Ouessant. There was once (a long, long time ago, perhaps at the time when Saint Pol came from the country of Hibernia to our island), there was therefore in Ouessant a beautiful young girl of sixteen to ten- seven years old, whose name was Mona Kerbili.
Morgans of Ouessant Island
She was so pretty that everyone who saw her was struck with admiration and said to her mother:
"You have a very beautiful girl there, Jeanne!" She is as pretty as a Morganes, and we have never seen her equal on the island; it is to make believe that she has for father a Morgan.
“Don't say that,” replied the good woman, “for God knows that her father is indeed Fanch Kerbili, my sailor, just as I am her mother.
Mona's father was a fisherman and spent most of his time at sea; his mother cultivated a small patch of land which she owned next to her dwelling, or spun flax, when the weather was bad. Mona went with the young girls of her age, on the shore, to look for brinics (loquat shells), mussels, clams, bigornos and other shellfish, which were the ordinary food of the family. It must be believed that the Morgans, who were then very numerous on the island, had noticed it and were also struck by its beauty.
One day when she was, as usual, on the beach, with her companions, they were talking about their lovers; each boasted of the skill of his own in catching fish and in steering and directing his boat, among the many reefs with which the island is surrounded.
“You are wrong, Mona,” said Marc'harit ar Fur to Fanch Kerbili's daughter, “to reject Ervoan Kerdudal as you do; he's a good-looking guy, he doesn't drink, never quarrels with his comrades, and no one knows how to steer his boat better than he does in the difficult passes of the Vieille-mare and the Pointe du Stiff.
– Me, answered Mona with disdain – because by dint of being told that she was pretty, she had become vain and proud – I will never take a fisherman for a husband. I am as pretty as a Morganes, and I will only marry a prince, or at least the son of a great lord, rich and powerful, or even a Morgan.
It seems that an old Morgan, who was hiding there, behind a rock or under the seaweed, heard her, and, throwing himself on her, he carried her to the bottom of the water. Her companions ran to tell the adventure to her mother. Jeanne Kerbili was out there on her doorstep; she threw down her distaff and spindle and ran to the shore. She called out loud for her daughter and even entered the water, as far as she could go, to where Mona had disappeared. But, it was in vain, and no voice answered her tears and cries of despair.
Word of Mona's disappearance quickly spread across the island, and no one was surprised. “Mona, they said, was the daughter of a Morgan, and it was her father who kidnapped her. »
Her captor was the king of the Morgans of these parts, and he had taken the young Ouessantine to his palace, which was a marvel of which nothing approached the finest on earth, in terms of dwellings. royal. Old Morgan had a son, the handsomest of the Morgans' children, and he fell in love with Mona and asked his father to let him marry her.
But the king, who also had the same intentions with regard to the young girl, replied that he would never consent to let her take as a wife a daughter of the men of the earth. There was no lack of beautiful Morganezed in his kingdom, who would be happy to have him as a husband, and he would not refuse her consent, when he had made his choice.
Here is young Morgan in despair. He replied to his father that he would never marry, if he were not allowed to marry the one he loved, Mona, the daughter of the earth. Old Morgan, seeing him wasting away with sadness and grief, forced him to marry a Morganès, daughter of one of the greats of his court and who was renowned for her beauty. The wedding day was fixed, and many people were invited.
The bride and groom set off for the church, followed by a magnificent and numerous procession; for it seems that these men of the sea also have their religion and their churches under water, just like the rest of us on land, although they are not Christians. They even have bishops, we are assured, and Goulven Penduff, an old sailor from our island, who sailed on all the seas of the world, told me he had seen more than one.
Poor Mona was ordered by old Morgan to stay home, to prepare the wedding feast. But they didn't give her what she needed for that, absolutely nothing but empty pots and pots, which were big sea shells, and they still say that if everything wasn't ready and if she wasn't used an excellent meal, when the wedding party returned from church, they would be put to death immediately. Judge of her embarrassment and her pain, the poor girl!
The bridegroom himself was neither less embarrassed nor less sorry. As the procession was marching towards the church, he suddenly exclaimed:
- I forgot my fiancee's ring!
"Tell him where he is, and I'll have him caught," his father told him.
– No, no, I'm going myself, because no one but me can find it, where I put it. I'm going there and I'll be back in a moment.
And he departed, without allowing anyone to accompany him. He went straight to the kitchen, where poor Mona was crying and in despair.
“Console yourself,” he said to her, “your meal will be ready and cooked to perfection; just trust me.
And approaching the hearth, he said: “Good fire in the hearth! And the fire was kindled and immediately blazed.
Then, successively touching the pots, pans, spits and plates with his hand, he said: "Salmon meat in this pot, sole with oysters in this other, duck on a spit over here, fried mackerels over there, and selected and best wines and liquors, in those pots…” And the pots, the saucepans, the dishes and the pots were filled by enchantment with food and liquors, as soon as he touched them from the hand. Mona couldn't get over her astonishment to see the meal ready, in the blink of an eye, and without her having put her hand to it.
Young Morgan then hurriedly rejoined the procession, and they went to the church. The ceremony was celebrated by a sea bishop. Then they returned to the palace. Old Morgan went straight to the kitchen, and addressing Mona:
– Here we are back; is everything ready?
“Everything is ready,” Mona replied quietly.
Surprised by this answer, he uncovered the pots and pans, examined the dishes and the pots and said, with an air of displeasure:
– You have been helped; but, I don't hold you for granted.
We sat down to table; we ate and drank abundantly, then singing and dancing continued all night long.
About midnight the newlyweds retired to their beautifully ornate bridal chamber, and old Morgan told Mona to go with them and stay there, holding a lighted candle in her hand. When the candle was consumed up to her hand, she was to be put to death.
Poor Mona had to obey. Old Morgan stood in an adjoining room, and from time to time he would ask:
"Is the candle burnt down to your hand?"
“Not yet,” Mona replied.
He repeated the question several times. Finally, when the candle was almost completely consumed, the newlywed said to his young wife:
“Take the candle from Mona's hands for a moment, and hold it, while she lights the fire for us.
Young Morganès, who was unaware of her father-in-law's intentions, took the candle.
Old Morgan repeated his question at the same time:
"Is the candle burnt down to your hand?"
“Answer yes,” said young Morgan.
"Yes," said Morganes.
And immediately old Morgan entered the room, threw himself on the one who held the candle, without looking at her, and cut off her head with a blow of his sword; then he left.
As soon as the sun rose, the newlywed went after his father and said:
“I come to ask your permission to marry me, my father.
"Permission to marry you?" Didn't you get married yesterday?
– Yes, but my wife is dead, my father.
"Your wife is dead!... So you killed her, unhappy man?"
“No, father, you killed her yourself.
"I killed your wife?"
“Yes, my father: last night, didn't you strike down the head of the woman who was holding a lighted candle, near my bed?
– Yes, the daughter of the Earth?…
– No, my father, it was the young Morganès whom I had just married to obey you, and I am already a widower. If you don't believe me, it's easy for you to see for yourself, his body is still in my room.
Old Morgan ran to the bridal chamber, and knew his mistake. His anger was great.
"Who do you want to have as a wife?" he asked his son, when he had calmed down a bit.
“The daughter of Earth, my father.
He didn't answer and left. However, a few days later, no doubt realizing how unreasonable it was to pose as his son's rival to the young girl, he granted her his consent, and the marriage was celebrated with pomp and solemnity.
Young Morgan was full of attentions and consideration for his wife. He fed her with delicate little fish, which he caught himself, made her ornaments of fine pearls and sought out for her pretty pearly, golden shells, and the most beautiful and rarest sea plants and flowers. Despite all this, Mona wanted to return to earth, to her father and mother, in their little cottage by the sea.
Her husband didn't want to let her go because he was afraid she wouldn't come back. She then fell into great sadness, and only cried day and night. Young Morgan once said to him:
“Smile at me a little, my sweet, and I'll lead you to your father's house.
Mona smiles, and the Morgan, who was also a magician, says:
– Pontrail, rise.
And immediately a beautiful crystal bridge appeared, to go from the bottom of the sea to the land.
When old Morgan saw this, feeling that his son knew as much about magic as he did, he said:
– I also want to go with you.
The three of them entered the bridge, Mona in front, her husband after her and old Morgan a few paces behind them.
As soon as the first two had dismounted, young Morgan said:
– Pontrail, lower yourself.
And the bridge descended to the bottom of the sea, taking old Morgan with it.
Mona's husband, unable to accompany her to her parents' house, let her go alone, giving her these recommendations:
– Come back at sunset; you will find me here, waiting for you; but, do not let yourself be kissed, nor even taken by the hand by any man.
Mona promised, and ran to her father's house. It was dinner time, and the whole little family was together.
– Hello, father and mother; hello, brothers and sisters, she said, hurrying into the cottage.
The good people looked at her in amazement, and no one recognized her. She was so beautiful, so tall and so adorned! It hurt her, and tears came to her eyes. Then she began to walk around the house, touching every object with her hand, saying:
Here is the sea pebble on which I sat, at the hearth; here is the little bed where I slept; here is the wooden bowl where I ate my soup; there, behind the door, I see the broom with which I used to sweep the house, and here, the pitcher with which I went to draw water, at the fountain.
Hearing all this, her parents ended up recognizing her and kissing her, crying with joy, and here they are all happy to be together.
Her husband had indeed recommended to Mona not to allow herself to be kissed by any man, and from that moment on she completely lost the memory of her marriage and her stay with the Morgans. She stayed with her parents, and soon she did not miss her lovers. But she hardly listened to them and did not want to get married.
The family had, like all the inhabitants of the island, a small corner of land, where we put potatoes, some vegetables, a little barley, and that was enough to support them, with the daily contribution taken from the sea, fish and shellfish. There was a threshing floor in front of the house, with a stack of barley straw.
Often, when Mona was in her bed at night, through the howling of the wind and the dull sound of the waves beating the rocks on the shore, she had thought she heard groans and moans at the door of the dwelling; but, convinced that it was the poor souls of shipwrecked people who asked for prayers from the forgetful living, she recited a few De Profundis for them, pitied the sailors who were at sea, then she quietly fell asleep.
But, one night, she distinctly heard these words uttered by a soul-splitting plaintive voice:
– 0 Mona, have you so quickly forgotten your husband Morgan, who loves you so much and who saved you from death? However, you had promised to come back without delay; and you make me wait so long, and you make me so unhappy! Ah! Mona, Mona, have pity on me, and come back soon!
Then Mona remembered everything. She got up, walked out, and found her husband the Morgan, complaining and lamenting like that, by the door. She threw herself into his arms… and since then, we haven't seen her again.
