The Devil and the Tailor.
The race of journeymen tailors and shoemakers, hired by the day to make up, at the houses of their employers, the materials that have been provided beforehand, or to patch and mend the clothes and shoes requiring repairs, is not yet quite extinct in the rural districts of Guernsey; although the facility of access to the town of St. Peter Port, afforded by the excellent roads which intersect the island in all directions, and the superior make and fashion of the articles supplied by the tradesmen in town,—to say nothing of the ready-made clothing so generally used in the present day—have had the effect of considerably diminishing the number of men who gain their living in this way. Although we have no knowledge that the journeyman tailor was ever the important character here that he is in Brittany and even in Normandy, where he is sometimes employed in the delicate office of negotiating marriages between the families of distant hamlets, and where he is often the sole means of circulating the news of the outer world, or carrying the gossiping tales of one village to another, yet even here his presence for a day or two in a house is looked forward to with pleasure as a break in the monotony of the daily family routine; and if he should chance to be what the French call “un farceur,” or teller of good stories, he is doubly welcome.
It must be acknowledged that, as a rule, this class of men are not supposed to be very particular as to the exact truth of the stories they put in circulation, and that some of them would be better members of society, if, on quitting their work, they were to go straight home, without thinking it a part of their duty to turn into every house where drink is sold, that they may chance to fall in with on their way.
The hero of the following adventure, if fame does not belie him, is one of this sort, and, although he affirms the truth of the story, there is no corroborative evidence that it is anything more than the dream of a drunken man.
It appeared in a letter from a correspondent to the Gazette de Guernesey of the 22nd December, 1873, and is translated literally, omitting only the writer’s sensible remarks on the folly and simplicity of those who could give credence to such an invention, and on the superstition which, in spite of education, is still so prevalent among the lower orders. There is no doubt that the story was widely spread and believed in the country, and that the tailor, when questioned about it, asserts it to be true.
He is an inhabitant of the parish of Torteval, and a Guernseyman born and bred, although bearing a name which shews that his family came originally from another country. One evening, as he was returning from his work, a certain tailor, who shall be nameless, and who bears but an indifferent character, met with an adventure which was far from being agreeable. A man, dressed entirely in black, of a sinister aspect, and mounted on a black horse, met him on his way. This strange looking individual stopped the tailor, and the following conversation took place:
“Hallo, you’re a tailor, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir, at your service,” answered the tailor, somewhat alarmed.
“Then I wish you to make me a pair of trousers, which I will come and fetch at your house to-morrow at noon.” And, so saying, the stranger went on his way.