As did many other ancient peoples, the Celts viewed borders and thresholds with suspicion and fear. Thresholds and crossings were places where dark powers—many inimical to Mankind—tended to gather. Even the transition of one time-period into another, such as at midnight or noonday, was fraught with danger. Celtic lore is filled with stories of strange happenings that occur as one day merges into another, or morning moves into afternoon. The thresholds of houses were also sinister places. In some areas of rural Ireland, for example, open scissors or naked iron blades were left under doormats to ward away witches, fairies, or the returning dead who were supposed to congregate there.
If thresholds and crossings were supernaturally troublesome places, crossroads were twice as dangerous. At crossroads, ghosts and fairies thronged, and travelers had to be wary (or adequately protected by holy charms) before approaching them.
Nowhere was the lore of crossroads more prevalent than in Brittany. Here, at the crossing of trails and paths, such spectral terrors as ghouls, Midnight Washerwomen (who washed the shrouds of those who were about to die), and Night Dancers (fairies who often danced to tunes unheard by mortal ears) waited to waylay passersby. To those who ignored them, they could mete out awful punishment, but to those who showed proper respect they could dispense largesse.
Variants of the following Breton story, which comes from the rural Breton folktales collected by F. M. Luzel during the mid-19th century, can be found all over the Celtic world. Even in Brittany itself another variation, “The Two Hunchbacks and the Dwarves,” can still be found, and in Ireland it is known as “The Legend of Knockgrafton.” It also contains many elements of a traditional fairy-tale.
Listen if you wish
Here’s a pretty little tale,
In which there’s never a lie,
Except perhaps a word or two.
Once there was a rich widow who married a rich widower.
The man had a pretty well behaved daughter by his previous wife called Levenes. The widow also had a daughter by her first husband, called Margot, who was bad and ugly.
The husband’s daughter, as so often happens in such cases, was detested by her stepmother. They lived in a fine manor house at Guernaour, near Coathuel. At the crossroads at Croazann-neud, which is on the road going from Guernaour to the village of Plouaret, the night dancers were often seen in those days, or so they say, and whoever passed them as they danced in circles in the moonlight and did not wish to dance with them, became a victim of their bad humour.
The Lady of Guernaour knew this well and one Sunday evening, after supper, she said to Levenes:
“Go and fetch my book of hours, which I’ve left in church beneath my pew.”
“Yes mother” replied the young girl.
And she went alone, although night had already fallen
It was a clear moonlit night. When she reached the crossroads, she saw a crowd of little men who were dancing in a circle holding hands. She was afraid, poor child, and thought of going back, but her stepmother would grumble and perhaps beat her so she resolved to pass them. One of the dancers ran after her and said:
“Would you like to dance with us pretty girl?”
“Willingly” she replied, trembling.
And she joined in the circle and danced.
Then one of the dancers said to the others.
“What present should we give this charming girl for dancing with us?”
“She’s quite pretty, but she should become even prettier,” said one of the dancers.
“And with each word she speaks, a pearl should fall from her mouth” said a second.
“And everything she touches with her hand should change to gold if she wishes it to” said a third.
“Yes, yes,” cried all the others together.
“Many thanks sirs, I’m much obliged,” she said with a curtsy.
Then she went on her way.
When she reached the village, she went to the sacristan’s for the church was locked, and told him why she had come.
The sacristan went with her and unlocked the door. She touched the door with her hand and it became gold and with every word she spoke, a pearl fell from her mouth. The sacristan could not believe his eyes and was dumbfounded. He picked up the pearls and put them in his pocket. Levenes went inside, took her stepmother’s book from her pew, and went straight back home.
The night dancers were no longer at the crossroads when she passed by.
“Here’s your book of hours mother” she said giving her a golden book.
“What” she asked her, surprised to see her unharmed, “you didn’t see the night dancers?”
“Yes I did” she replied, “I saw them at the crossroads.”
“And they didn’t hurt you?”
“No, quite the opposite; they’re very pleasant, these little men, they invited me to dance with them”
“And did you?”
“Yes I did”
“That’s good, go to bed”
The stepmother had noticed her stepdaughter’s extraordinary beauty and also the pearls that fell from her mouth each time she spoke, and the way her book of hours had changed to gold, but she pretended not to notice but inside herself she thought:
“Good! I know what to do. Tomorrow night I’ll send my own daughter to the night dancers. These little men have inexhaustible treasures of gold and pearls hidden underground and amongst the rocks”
Next day, at the same time, she said to her daughter Margot.
“Margot, you must go and fetch me another book of hours from my pew in the church”.
“No, I won’t go,” replied Margot
“I want you to and you’re going”, replied the mother, “and when you pass by the crossroads if you see the night dancers and they invite you to dance with them, have no fear; they’ll do you no harm, but quite the contrary, they’ll give you a fine present.”
Margot answered rudely and her mother had to threaten her with a stick to make her go.
When she reached the crossroads, the night dancers were dancing in circles in the moonlight. One of them ran up to Margot and politely invited her to dance with them.
“Shit,” she replied.
“What present should we give this girl for the way she has welcomed our proposition?” said the dwarf to his companions.
“She’s quite ugly, but she could become uglier yet,” replied one of them.
“She should have only one eye in the middle of her head,” said another.
“A toad shall fall out of her mouth with every word she speaks, and everything she touches should turn dirty”, said a third.
“That’s what should happen,” cried all the others in a chorus.
Then Margot went to church, took her mother’s book from her pew and went back home.
“Here’s your book,” she said, throwing it at her, all dirty and smelly.
And at the same time three toads fell from her mouth.
“What’s happened to you my poor child?” cried the mother, upset. “What a mess you’ve come back in!...... Who did this to you? Did you see the night dancers, and did you dance with them?”
“Me?. . . . . Dance with such ugly creatures! Shit on them!”
And again she spat as many toads as the words.
“Go to bed daughter,” said her mother, furious at what she saw, and promising herself revenge on Levenes.
But fortunately, the stepdaughter was married shortly afterwards, to a young gentleman of the land who took her to his castle, and the stepmother and her daughter almost died of spite and jealousy.