The Abbess Tale

‘The Abbess’ Tale,’ from The Witch’s Book of Fairytales by Yvonne Owens ‘Raymond spies on Melusine and discovers her secret.’ Roman de Mélusine, c. 1401-1500, Français 24383, f. 19v, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Département des manuscrits. Abstract The Witch’s Book of Fairytales collection has pilfered from various sources for its contents. It includes some traditional, multi-cultural fairytales and lore (in original retellings) and some completely original (new) tales. They have one thing in common however; they are all told from an alternative or underground perspective -- that of the ‘exoticised Other,’ which is to say the succubus or fairy, the transgressive woman, or Witch. ‘The Abbess’ Tale’ of Part 1 relates the well-known story of Melusine, the enlightened shape shifter and Witch, as well as referencing some other Celtic tales of the divine feminine. Her story was crafted into that of Elaine of the Ways, builder of cities and roads, an early Welsh tale that synthesizes stories of the boon-granting Witch Queen with the coming of the Romans into Britain. The construction of King Arthur’s purpose in founding the Code of Chivalry among his courts portrayed in this tale -- though sounding surprisingly ‘modern’ in its feminist and ecological leanings -- is taken from the anonymously-penned 13th-century introduction (called ‘The Elucidation’) to Chretien de Troyes’ Conte du Graal. THE ABBESS’ TALE The travelers guided their mounts along the faint wagon track. Snow was beginning to fill the shallow ruts, making their path all but invisible. The leafless trees bent down toward them, clutching at their hair and garments with spiny fingers, scratching at their faces in the fitful wind. The trees thinned, then gave way to windswept fields and meadows that rolled like a white sea. Drifts of snow were piled in waves over the barren ground. Winter was upon them, having chased them from the 2 North Country. It had overtaken them at York, and now the lights of the abbey in the distance beckoned them with warmth and shelter. Dry beds awaited them, which -though chaste and narrow in their virginal austerity -- would yield against their tired limbs in delicious softness. They would seem luxurious as the great beds of voluptuous princes, compared to the freezing ground. The horses picked up their pace. They had scented the abbey stables, and had their own equine expectations of clean hay and adequate feed. Their riders had no need of whips or goads to hasten them along the track. They came to a halt before the great double doors in the abbey’s outer wall, just as the wind began to whine and the snow began to fly with a vengeance. The first among them rang the bell-pull and, after a time, a panel slid open in one of the great oak doors. They could see no one, but a woman’s voice inquired, “who comes to the abbey of the grail?” “We are three travelers, a knight, a devout hermit and a lady, come lately from north of the wall. We are journeying to the court of King Mark in the south. We are able to pay you for your hospitality.” “No payment is necessary, only an offering for the Lady of the Grail. Enter and be welcome,” said the voice, and they heard the bars lifted within, and the locks drawn back. Their guide led them to the inner courtyard, where grooms took their mounts away to be fed and watered. After the travelers had satisfied their hunger with a simple but generous repast, and had soaked away the weary miles in the ancient, steamy, spring-fed baths for which the abbey was famous, they settled down to hear the Abbess recite from her ample store of miracles and tales. For these, she also was justly famous. “From the time of the first people, this shrine has been revered. The sacred spring of Ana was here long before the blessed son came among us from his birthplace in the East. It is meet that the mother precede the son, is it not? This was a holy site, a temple of the virgin in the times of the Roman occupation. And even before that, it was the holy precinct of she we call Elaine of the Ways. Yet earlier, long before the Druid priestesses worshipped here in their sacred grove, the fairy folk built their mounds to house their queens and royal consorts in the otherworld. They too worshipped at this well. It may come as a surprise to you that the fairy folk revered the virgin Mother, but the gods work in mysterious ways. We sisters of this abbey model ourselves after the nine maidens of the island of women, who tend the waters of life and keep the eternal flame. We are the Sisters of Perpetual Devotion. “Perhaps you have heard of the miracle working waters here. I need not tell you of the wonders, nor of the healing miracles, nor of the many visions the blessed virgin granted those who come as pilgrims. The sacred spring first came from the earth when the three Marys came to Britain to teach the mysteries, and wheresoever they stepped, streams and rivers and springs sprang forth. Mary the mother of God, Mary the Egyptian and Mary Magdalene came to this island after their sojourn in France, in their little ship from the East. The penitent Mary Magdalene founded this abbey. That is why so many of our sacred waters are named for Her. “When this spring first bubbled out of the rock a great radiance was seen and people traveled from miles around to find its source. When they came close enough, they saw a beautiful, shining woman in the midst of the pool, seated on a stone. She possessed a tail like a fish and she sang in a surpassingly sweet voice which healed and counseled 3 all who heard. She played a silver harp as she sang and all who saw her were healed of whatever ailed them. “When rude and violent men of war came through the land, raping and pillaging the shrines and reliquaries, she and all the other maidens of the wells retired from view and can only rarely be seen nowadays, by those in a special state of grace or dire need. From time to time they send delegations to the court of the king, but they stay veiled and hidden from the view of profane men. It is for these pure maidens that King Arthur maintains chivalry throughout the land. When honor is fulfilled then the land shall be healed, and the maidens of the wells shall come forth once more, offering succor and healing to all who pass. “The great queen, Melusine, Builder of Cities, and ancestress of the great House of Dole was one of the maidens of the sacred wells. Though few now remember, the story is told that the Duke Raymond had fought and killed his cousin in battle, whom he had not recognized until he lifted the helm of the slain man. Sick in mind, heart and spirit -- and grievously wounded in body from the fray -- he came to the pool in the forest where Melusine sat upon her rock. He sank to his knees at the edge of the pool, where the nixie was singing and playing her harp. Seeing a traveler in need, she brought to him her cup of blessings, that he may drink and be healed. But Raymond was so far gone in grief that he could not drink, could not be succored, could not be healed of his pain. “The nixie was a holy woman and felt such pity for him that she came onto the land and grew legs. She lay with him among the rushes at the edge of the pool, and so -with love -- healed his deep wounds. When he had regained his right mind and was able to look forward again, toward life, Raymond swore that he loved the maiden and would marry her. She loved him also, so she agreed -- on one condition. He must never disturb her in the privacy of her bath of the Sabbath Eve, for at these times Melusine would resume her real form. In her great golden bathtub, in the privacy of her chamber, she would lay in the crystal waters and sing her devotions, for it was only at such times that her Otherworldly singing voice could be heard. Her great, blue-green fish tail would lash and beat the clear waters into a froth, and she could indulge her true nature, in her own true element, for just one night. In those early days when the Sabbath was Saturn’s day, Friday was the Lady’s Day, the Sabbath Eve. Friday was named for Melusine’s divine patron and protector, fish-tailed Aphrodite, the aspect of the Mother called Freya by the Norsemen. In Her honor men still eat fish upon her sacred day. “Duke Raymond agreed to this condition, for it seemed a small thing and he loved the maiden with all his heart. And so they were wed and she bore him four sons, each of whom bore the marks of divinity as some holy disfigurement or magical sign. But as is often the case when two lovers love truly and with a visible, shining passion, jealousy began to stalk them. Raymond’s brothers, distrusting the Duke’s devotion to Melusine, began to question her origins, her motives and her lineage. They said she gave birth to monsters. ‘Where does she come from?’ they badgered him, ‘Who are her people? How do you know she isn’t a demon, come to steal your life and your kingdom from you? There’s something strange about her and her sons. Their eyes are different, they are Otherworldly, changelings... Why are you not allowed to witness her at her bath on the Sabbath Eve? Does she then revert to her demon’s shape?’ 4 The Duke’s brothers never rested from casting their suspicions, for secretly they resented the close bond the King shared with his Queen and were jealous of the influence she brought to bear on the kingdom, where -- under her guidance --the arts and sciences flourished, gardens and orchards bore beautiful fruit, well watered by aqueducts and canals. None went hungry with Melusine as chatelaine, and her great cities thrived. “Finally the Duke agreed, with his brothers, to spy upon his wife on the Sabbath Eve. As one by one the Duke and his two brothers pressed their eyes to the keyhole, they witnessed an amazing sight, for there lay Melusine, in her bath, her lower limbs transformed into a great aquatic tail that shone with blue-green scales, and the room was filled with the beautiful sound of her unearthly singing. It was the fabled singing of a Maiden of the Wells, which healed and restored all who heard it. And it restored the Duke and his brothers from their dark suspicions for, certainly, there was nothing evil in the sight of Melusine at her bath. In an instant, they knew they had been wrong. Instead of a demon it was a beautiful and natural spirit they witnessed -- that same nixie whom Raymond had recognized as his own true salvation. But it was too late. Melusine had heard their cries of wonder and knew herself to have been discovered in her magical state. With a cry of pain and betrayal she rose from her golden bath, great glistening webbed wings rising from her shoulders. She flew from the window and entered the wind. And there she still flies, mourning her loss and howling her pain, when the storms blow from the mountains or from the sea, and whenever one of her descendants, the royal houses of Dole, Lusignan, Luxembourg, and Plantagenet, passes over into death.” The Abbess fell silent, and the travelers gazed into the embers of the fire now fading in the grate. Each lost in their own thoughts, they drifted away on the beautiful and somber tones of the Abbess' sad tale. Well they knew of the sadness and regret which assails each traveler and pilgrim who, from doubt, has lost their way -- lost the ability to see the maidens of the wells, the guardians of the rivers and streams, who once nurtured the hurt and needy. And yet, with the courtly code of love and honor in place now throughout the land by Arthur’s decree, perhaps it was true: the maidens would return, bringing Otherworldly wonders and renewal from their underworld grottoes. Perhaps, if propitiated, if lauded -- they will consent to heal the land once more. 5 I saw your atrocious scales, Mélusine, shine greenish at dawn, you slept coiled in the sheets and on waking you screamed like a bird and fell endlessly, broken and white, nothing remained of you but your scream. ~ From the episode, ‘Melusine transforms into a dragon,’ Roman de Mélusine, c. 1401-1500, Français 24383, f. 19v, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Département des manuscrits.