Breton traditions at the time of the evenings of yesteryear

Before the arrival of electricity and agricultural machinery in Brittany and elsewhere, farmers were, depending on the season, dependent on daylight. As much as their working days were long in summer, they were reduced in winter.

At nightfall, retreat into the houses

At the end of autumn in the countryside, they retreated to their homes at nightfall. But once we had eaten the evening meal, it was still too early to go to bed. After a day often spent in the cold and rain, families gathered to warm themselves around the fireplace. The latter also provided part of the lighting, in addition to an oil lamp or a candle.

It was the time of the vigils: Pa vez paseet foar an Nec’ h/E komañs ar veilhadeg e pep lec’h/When the Foire Haute de Morlaix has passed (end of October)/The vigils begin everywhere. In devout Brittany, it was traditional, after supper, to say prayers together to which was added the reading of a page or two from the lives of the saints. So, quite often, close neighbors joined the small family group, particularly when hospitality was given to a passing beggar who in return provided news of the country. This is how these road threshers paid for their accommodation. They were also often storytellers and singers.

Stories of ghosts

Famous folklorists such as Le Braz or Luzel have described and frozen, as in a sort of Epinal image, these long winter evenings in a peasant environment: while the audience listens while scutching hemp, spinning wool or about flax, we first talk about the weather, the season’s work, late sowing, horses, oxen; then, imperceptibly, and as if by a natural inclination, the conversation comes to stories of ghosts, marvelous tales and the current superstitions of the country. Everyone tells their story and puts their word in. But everything is not so rosy and, sometimes, tongues turn sour, as Alexandre Bouët writes in his work Breiz Izel: “The floodgates of backbiting are wide open and torrents of gossip are pouring out. rush into it. »

Games to liven up the evenings

In order to fill these winter evenings, we also play games of all kinds, such as the one which consisted of bring down the tower of Babylon, Diskar tower Babilon, the famous tower of Babel from the Bible. The name of the city concerned, Babylon, underwent alterations during the various oral transmissions and it became: Tour Barbilhon, Toull ar papel, Tour Mabilion… popular tradition has often taken liberties with geography. This pastime was very popular in the past and remains very present in the memory of the ancients.

The floodgates of slander are wide open and torrents of gossip rush out.

The Tower of Babylon

This is what it consisted of: a log was placed upright in front of the fireplace. About five feet from the piece of wood symbolizing the Tower of Babylon, a line was drawn on the ground. This actually corresponded to the size of the person who was going to take part in the game, with his arm outstretched. It was from there that he had to use the strength of his wrists to attack the tower. For that, he took two sticks in his hand which would help him progress from the line. Starting in a crouch, he moved forward, as if crawling, taking support both on these kinds of crutches which he held firmly, and on the ends of his feet which were not allowed to leave the line. As it were, he was stretching his body, slowly, towards his goal. This is where the people in the audience came in to make the challenge tougher and test the competitor’s strength.

When he arrived near the goal, that is to say at full extension, someone asked him this question: Where are you going to belec’h out evel-se, my darling/Where are you going like that, my friend? He would then respond, always invariably: Da ziskar Tour Babilon/Topple the tower of Babylon. And he added in rhyme: Bout da fri’n em revr ma mignon/Stuff your nose in my behind, my friend. Matching the gesture with the word, he had to point one of the sticks towards his rear end and balance while remaining supported on the other. It was a real test of strength. If he managed to bring down the tower, the player had to return, still supporting himself on his sticks, to his initial position in front of the line.

Beware of the pledge!

Quite often, it was not the tower that toppled, but himself. So, he was given a pledge and he had to give up his place to another big man, for a new attempt. The hot hand game North-east of Lannion, in the Lézardrieux sector, a wake game quite similar in its conception was played, but there, it was nothing more and nothing less about destroying the presbytery! Rather astonishing in the land of Saint Yves! The dialogue was therefore different, but the final gesture was identical and also suggestive while keeping his balance on one of the sticks.

Here are the words that accompanied the player’s progress: Bleidi touseg, da belec’h ec’h aet/Wolves, toad, where are you going? D’ar fornigell ma vez ret/In the chimney if necessary. Where are da belec’h oc’h evel-se ivez going? /Where are you going like this again? Da di ar c’hure hag o fri du-se/Into the vicar’s house and stick your nose in there.

The hot hand was another wake game

Also popular in France, especially among children, it was practiced in Lower Brittany under the name c’hoari dornig. One player, bent over, eyes closed, head resting on the knees of a second seated in front of him, received small blows from a third on the palm of his right hand open outwards. He had to guess the way his hand had been hit. The striker had six ways of doing it, on the point, in the form of a hammer, claws, flat, scissors or a mace, in other words in Breton: Pik, morzhol, kraban, flat, sizailh, horz.

Touching the other’s hand, he asked this question: Touderifez, touderofez, skeiñ korn, penaos’mañ ma dorn? Pik, morzhol, kraban, plat, sizailh, horz? Touderifez, touderofez/Would you do everything, would you give everything? Striking hard as a horn, how is my hand? On the tip, like a hammer, like claws, flat, like scissors, like a sledgehammer? Failing to give the correct answer, the player received a pledge. This is how certain winter vigils took place until Candlemas. We then went to bed after supper: Deiz gouel ar Chandelour, ar c’hanteler en tan, eag ar merc’hed da gousket pa devo debret o c’hoan/At Candlemas, the candlestick on the fire, and the girls in bed afterwards supper. Electricity, radio and then television put an end to all these amusements and to the neighborly relations for which former rural people were so nostalgic.

This article appeared in Bretagne Magazine n° 87 (January-February 2016).

Michela the storyteller
It was a little before 1900, in Trédrez, during the winter. My grandmother would sing and tell stories at the neighbors’ vigil where she was employed in the summer during threshing and other summer tasks. “Well, Michela,” people asked her, “will you come and stay up with us this evening?” » In fact, everyone knew that it was for her to come and sing or tell stories. When she had finished unwinding the gwerz of Saint Genevieve of Brabant, her throat was dry because the verses were so numerous. She often went to the Coadic, the nearest farm. During these evenings, there was also sometimes a man who translated a French storybook into Breton as he read it. People were talking about their work. Food was cooked for the animals in a large cauldron. Someone was responsible for tending the fire in front of which people were sitting. My grandmother left with a piece of bacon to thank her for brightening up the evening. We also gave her wheat for the few chickens she had. Interview between Daniel Giraudon and Jules Gros (1890-1992).