It is believed that witches have the power of assuming the shape of various animals, and many stories turn on the exercise of this supposed faculty. The favourite forms with them appear to be those of cats, hares, and “cahouettes”[147] or red-legged choughs. It is not easy to conjecture how this beautiful and harmless bird got into such bad company; perhaps its predilection for the wild and unfrequented cliffs and headlands, where the witches are supposed to hold their unholy meetings, may have gained it the reputation of being in alliance with them.

In Guernsey, as elsewhere, a horseshoe, nailed on the lintel, door, or threshold, or on the mast or any other part of a ship or boat, is supposed to be a sure preservative against witchcraft, and, although a black cat is one of the most frequent disguises assumed by Satan’s imps and servants, the household in which a cat without a single white hair is domesticated, is thought to be highly favoured, as none of the infernal gang will venture to molest it. As some persons are fully persuaded that every black cat, however tame and well-behaved it may appear to be, is in reality in league with the Prince of Darkness, it may be that any interference on the part of others of the fraternity is contrary to the rules established among them, and resented accordingly, the old saying that “two of a trade cannot agree,” holding good in this case.

Allusion has been made to those who have an interest in encouraging a belief in witchcraft, and there is no doubt that persons who, for some reason or other, enjoy the unenviable reputation of dabbling in this forbidden art, now that they have no longer the fear of the stake and faggot before their eyes, and have only the minor terrors of a Police Court to dread, are not altogether unwilling to brave the latter danger if, by working on the credulity of the ignorant and superstitious, they can extort money, or even command a certain amount of consideration as the possessors of supernatural powers.

Few would venture in the present day to acknowledge openly that they could injure their neighbours by the exercise of unholy arts; but many may be found who pretend to a secret knowledge which may be used for beneficent purposes.

The difference, however, between a true witch—the servant of Satan—and what is commonly called “a white witch,” has never been clearly defined. The latter is known in Guernsey by the name of “désorceleresse” or “désorceleur,” for the art is quite as frequently, if not more frequently, exercised by men than by women. The persons who practise it pretend to be able to declare whether man or beast is suffering from the effects of witchcraft, to discover who it is that has cast the spell, and, by means of spells and incantations, to counteract the evil influence. It is clear, however, that one who is in possession of such powers must himself have a very intimate and profound knowledge of the arts he is fighting against, and that, if offended, he may perhaps be tempted to practise them. The “désorceleur” thus is as much feared as trusted, and as, of course, he cannot be expected to give his valuable services for nothing, the profession is often found to be very remunerative, large sums of money, besides presents in kind, being sometimes extorted from the superstition and fears of the credulous dupes.

There is no doubt, however, that some of these pretenders have some skill in the cure of the diseases to which cattle are liable, and even that some of the minor ailments to which the human race are subject, are occasionally relieved by them, especially those—and among ignorant, uneducated people they are not few—which arise out of a disordered imagination. The habits of close observation which those of his profession acquire must needs give the “désorceleur” a great insight into character; his cunning will soon teach him how to work on the fears and credulity of those who come to consult him, and his experience will guide him into the best way of exercising his knowledge.

How far the so-called white-witches are believers in their own supernatural powers is an open question. It may be that, in making use of certain forms or practices which they have learned from others, they may be fully persuaded in their own minds of their efficacy, it may be that in some cases they are labouring under a sort of hallucination.

A noted bone-setter, who, it is said, was occasionally resorted to when man or beast was supposed to be under evil influence, or when it was sought to discover the perpetration of a theft, used to account for his pretended knowledge of the anatomy of the human body by asserting solemnly that this knowledge had been revealed to him in a vision from Heaven, and he had repeated this story so often that it was evident to his hearers that he had come at last to believe fully in the truth of what he said.

The rustic bone-setter is not necessarily a “désorceleur,” although, as in the instance just noticed, the two professions may be combined; but he is skilled in the cure of those somewhat mysterious ailments known as “une veine trésaillie,” which seems to be a sprain or strain, and “les côtaïs bas,” which may be defined as that sort of dyspeptic affection which the lower orders call a “sinking of the stomach” or “all-overness.” This ailment is supposed popularly to be caused by the ribs slipping out of their place, and is cured by manipulation and pushing them gradually back into their proper position. The efficacy of friction properly applied in reducing a sprain is well known, and accounts for the frequent success of the bone-setter in the treatment of “veines trésaillies.”

Some of these practitioners—old women as well as men—pretend to have the gift of causing warts to disappear by counting them, and asking certain questions of the persons applying to them for relief. The principal information they seem to wish to arrive at is the age of the person; and this known, they predict that the warts are likely to disappear within a certain time. As these unsightly excrescences affect more particularly young persons, and as it is known that they frequently disappear naturally at that age when youth is passing into manhood, it is not unlikely that this fact may have been observed, and the knowledge of it turned to account. It is believed that those who possess the secret may impart it to one, and to one only; but they must receive neither fee nor reward for so doing; for if they do, or if they tell it to more than one, they lose their power of curing. They must not receive money for their services, but if a cure is effected they are at liberty to take a present.