A WHIP-FIGHT IN BRITTANY.

Marlborough Daily Times, Volume II, Issue 118, 7 May 1880, Page 1 (Supplement)

A WHIP-FIGHT IN BRITTANY.

The great attraction of Brittany is the peasantry, and no wonder, for they are quite sui generis, quite different from all other populations. They combine the sombre, taciturn nature of the Spaniard with the droll wild life of the Irish. It is difficult to understand how the same people can be silent and noisy—reserved and running with jollity. Yet so it is. There must be a strain of tiger in a population which could amuse itself so lately as 1547 in cutting the life out of friends with a whip made after this fashion: —Lash, eighteen feet long, swelling at a little distance from the handle to the thickness of a man’s arm, from whence it tapered to a twisted and strongly knotted end, made more like a knife bj r the help of a mixture of glue. This plaything was fixed upon a strong, stiff stick, and often not only cut a manj into steaks, but sometimes cut the life out of him at a single stroke. Yet a local historian gives an account of a fete which he attended in 1547, at which the chief attraction was a contest between twelve men, six on a side, with these deadly weapons. The smack of these whips made, he saj s, much more noise than a gun shot; they could be heard at the distance of two and a half miles, and when several smack their whips in concert the noise is so terrible that one must run away or stop up one’s ears. These twelve men were ranged opposite one another at a distance almost corresponding to the length of the lashes of their whips. They stood up, having for protection in the shape of dress only short felt breeches, and shirts made of stout sailcloth. Like all Breton peasants of the old style, their hair hung down their backs in long tresses, but was cut straight across the forehead after the fashion of Gainsborough’s ‘Blue Coy.’ They wore no hats or headjeovering. The left arm was naked, but the right arm, which held the whip, was protected from the fist to the neck by an arinlet or shield of thick leather. The sides were distinguished by the colour of the tuft of their whips, the one being white and the other red. These men thus standing face to face, were there [to be wounded, almost to death, for the glory thereof, and also for the prize, which consisted of half-a-dozen striped pocket handkerchiefs and a pound of tobacco. The signal given by an old peasant, the combatants put themselves into the attitude of defiance, the whip raised, while the lash was held in the left hand. ‘Strike,’ said the same voice, and the twelve cables were let loose in an instant, but no smack was heard as they met, twisted, and struggling in mid air. Those most renowned quickly disengaged their lashes and dealt the second and dreadful blow upon the persons of their antagonists, opening up large seams of livid or bleeding flesh ; on the third stroke all the faces except two were seamed and flowing with blood. These two were the leaders—oue tall, the other short ; one heavy, the other light; one all flesh, the other, although only five feet high, all nerves and sinews. An outsider would have backed the giant, but the boys of Pipriac knew too well the prowers of the dwarf to risk their money against him. The combat now raged with fury; men disdained to parry, they Avere only eager to strike. The sound was that of a volley of musketry. The lashes soften into tow, but harden again and glue themselves together with blood. The faces are no longer human; the long hair hangs down in front, bathed in perspiration and blood. But not one blow has fallen on either champion. They have reserved themselves ; they have guarded and parried, knowing that upon them the issue of the fight did depend. But now the tall man has hit home. A long spiral mark, which here and there squirts blood, twists round the left arm of the little Josille, and makes him stagger with pain. He recovers himself ; launches his whip at his foe, but six inches intervened between its deadly point and the face of Joseph the great, Animated by his first success, Kaer stepped forward and bent -Ins whole strength to the blow which he -aimed at Josille. The little man never parried the blow, but piroutted as it were; while, without any effort, he threw out his lash softly. The blow of Kaer missed ; but when Josille sharply drew back his lash, the whole face of Kaer was cut in half—a gigantic gap opened up the very bone. These two stood alone in the lists ? the rest had made a truce, and were engaged in attending to their grievous wounds. Kaer, blinded by the shock, put his armlet of leather before his face and paused. Josille, so far from profiting by the occasion and pressing his advantage, coolly took outjf his pocket-hand-kerchief and loudly blew his nose, to the amusement of his backers, who thought it an excellent joke. The laughter made Kaer mad threw him out of his sang-froid, and made him wild. He struck, stamped, and made wonderful points ; but Josille was calm, and at the end of ten minutes the giant, covered with wounds, his shirt cut into ribbons, his mouth foaming, his eyes blinded, fell heavily upon his knees. ‘ Don’t give in ! ’ cried some voices still; but the effort to rise was vain. Josille, apparently incapable of pity, like a true Breton peasant, again blew his nose, and prepared to give the falling man his coup de grace. A shiver ran through the crowd; but Josille was better than he seemed, for instead of cutting the poor flesh he dexterously drew the whip out of the hands of the victim, and folded his arms upon his breast. Kaer shut his eyes, and laid his burning head upon the sand. The whites were proclaimed the victors. Each subaltern had a pocket-handkerchief worth sixpence, and Josille the pound of tobacco. I know not whether any of these scenes are enacted now, but this account is so recent that it throws light upon the Breton peasant as I find him. —From ‘Life in Brittany,’ in the ‘ Coruhill Magazine.’

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