The first of a series of regular posts sharing songs rooted in Celtic culture – and this one represents, for me, the perfect marriage of myth and music. It’s a modern take on a very old tale; one of the earliest Breton legend-songs collected by folklorists. It was published in the Barzaz Breiz (‘Breton Bardic Songs’) compilation by Théodore Hersart de la Villemarqué, back in 1839. It’s also a fantastic piece of music in its own right.
The version here is by Eben, a Breton band who are active now. It appears on their first, eponymous album. Some of the artists in the band have enjoyed quite a bit of publicity in France of late – a sign of the ongoing strength of the Breton musical tradition.
The cadence of the singing gives a good sense of the sound of traditional Breton music. The imagery that accompanies the album is also worth commenting on; it evokes the uniquely Breton version of Celtic art created by the Seiz Breur movement in the early 20th century. Eschewing knotwork, it finds other ways to evoke the swirling patterns of the Iron Age – and does so to very good effect. It’s nice to see it appearing in such a modern context.
The mythic content of the ballad is very Celtic, and elements are very old indeed. It describes a tailor, deprived of work by war, choosing to tide himself over by stealing treasure from a burial mound. The mound is however the habitation of the dwarves – ar c’horred – and they do not take kindly to the disappearance of their property! The name c’horred may connect to the ‘coraniaid’ encountered in the Welsh legend of Lludd & Llefelys. At another point in the song they are named ‘duz’, a word that may derive from the ‘dusii’ of Gaulish mythology; incubus-fauns associated with the wilds, who appeared to humans at night. Fear of these spirits is attested into the Christian era, and through this song we see them make an appearance in modern times.
The song is available on YouTube here;
The lyrics for the full ballad as recorded in the Barzaz, translated from Breton run as follows;
Tall Paskou the tailor, started playing the thief on Friday evening. He couldn't make trousers anymore; all the men were off to war against the French and their king. He entered the Dwarves' cave with his shovel, and he began to dig for the hidden treasure. The fine treasure, he found it, and ran home very quickly. He got into bed... — Close the door, close it well! Here are the little Duz of the night. —"Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and Friday!" — — Close the door, my friends: here, here are the Dwarves! Here they are entering the yard; here they are all dancing there breathlessly; — "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and Friday." — — Here they are climbing on your roof; here they are making a hole in it. They have you, my poor friend; quickly throw away the treasure! Poor Paskou, you are a dead man! Sprinkle yourself with holy water; Throw your sheet over your head; Paskou, don't make a single movement. — Aïe! They laugh out loud; to escape would be fine. Lord God! Here comes one now; I see his head sticking out through a hole; His eyes are red as coals. He slides down the pillar... Lord God! One, two and three! Here they are dancing on the floor! They leap and rage. Holy Virgin! I am strangled! — "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and Friday." — Two, three, four, five and six! — " Monday Tuesday Wednesday ! “Tailor, dear little tailor, how you snore there, hey! “Tailor, dear little tailor, show the tip of your nose a little. “Come and have a spin; we will teach you the measure; “Tailor, dear little tailor! Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. “Little tailor, you are a rascal. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. “Come back and rob us again; come back, nasty little tailor; “We'll teach you a dance that will make your spine crack". Dwarven gold is worth nothing...
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