One of the earliest forms of idolatry is undoubtedly that which was paid to rude stone pillars. These, whether erected for the purpose of marking the last resting place of some renowned patriarch or warrior, or set up with the design of indicating a spot specially appropriated to religious rites, or perhaps, simply as a boundary or landmark, came to be regarded, at first, as sacred, and in process of time, as a symbol of the Deity himself. Gradually any elevated rock, and especially if it presented a striking and unusual appearance, was looked upon with veneration. We find that this was particularly the case in the north of Europe, and that the hardy mariners who navigate the tempestuous seas of Scandinavia, are, even now, in the habit of paying a sort of superstitious respect to the lofty “stacks,” as the isolated masses of rock are called, which form the extremity of many of the headlands, and that, in passing, they salute them, and throw old clothes, or a little food, or a drop of spirits, into the sea, as a sort of propitiatory offering. It is strange to find that the same custom still exists in Guernsey, notwithstanding that a thousand years or more have elapsed since the Northmen first invaded these shores.
“Le Petit Bonhomme Andrelot, ou Andriou.”
Everyone who has visited Guernsey must know the lovely bay of Moulin Huet,[67] and the remarkable group of rocks, which stretches out into the sea at its eastern extremity beyond the point of Jerbourg. These rocks are called “Les Tas de Pois d’Amont,” or “The Pea-Stacks of the East.” There being a chain of rocks off Pleinmont which are called the “Tas de Pois d’Aval”—the westerly Pea-Stacks—“Amont” (meaning “en haut”) is the Guernsey word for east, aval meaning “en bas,” their word for west.[68]
Each rock composing the Tas de Pois d’Amont has its own special name. They are “Le Petit Aiguillon,” “Le Gros Aiguillon,” “L’Aiguillon d’Andrelot,” ou “du Petit Bon-Homme.”
The united and increasing action of the winds and waves has worn the hard granite rock into the most fantastic forms, and from certain points of view it is not difficult to invest some of these masses of stone with a fancied resemblance to the human form. One of them in particular, when seen at a certain distance, has all the appearance of an aged man enveloped in the gown and cowl of a monk.
So singular a freak of nature has not escaped the attention of the peasantry, and the rock in question is pointed out by the name of “Le Petit Bon-Homme Andriou.” The children in the neighbourhood have a rhymed saying:
“Andriou, tape tout,”