If you were somewhere between the two charming villages of Mézières and Vuysternant, located on high hills above the beautiful Glan valley, you would see on one side the peaks of the Jura, on the other the Gruyères Alps and the peaks of the Savoy mountains. Wonderful view! These places are also notable for the fact that on the side of the road connecting Mezières and Vuysternant, near the village of Villaria, there is a very beautiful farm, which is popularly called “Pra-Diabla”.
In ancient times, when someone horned in green robes still easily walked the earth, this region would not have seemed friendly to you! Today, the traveler, getting off the train at the Romont station, will see a beautiful city on a high hill, surrounded by moats and a fortress wall, charming houses buried in flowers, green fields along which Renault and Peugeot race. And before, endless forests rustled here. Many animals and birds lived in the dense thickets. The Glana and Sarina rivers, now quiet and calm, overflowed in bad weather and became stormy and dangerous. Romont was just a small village, buried in the hazel bushes, and Mézières was a farmstead, huddled on the edge of a forest that stretched all the way to Wuysternant. A crooked rocky road ran through the forest, full of potholes and potholes.
One day, late in the evening, a poor family was wandering along this road - a mother, father and eight children, small or small. It was autumn. A strong wind was blowing and the tops of the black-green spruce trees swayed like drunken soldiers after a feast. The forest hummed, grieving that summer had passed and the harsh winter was approaching with silent but rapid steps. A fine cold rain had been pouring non-stop for several days... And at such a time, parents and children, stumbling from fatigue, walked through the dark forest. They were dragging behind them an old cart loaded with beggar's belongings - logs, dishes and torn bags with some rags. On top of this stuff was placed a basket with a despondent rooster and two wet hens.
Until recently, peasant Jean and his wife Nanette were rich and lived happily ever after. But there was a bad year, the livestock was attacked by disease, and the poor fellows found themselves on the verge of ruin. Naive Jean decided to borrow money from a moneylender who had long offered him his help. As usual, the moneylender turned out to be a greedy and insensitive villain. By cunning and deceit, this scoundrel extracted all of Jean’s property, and in the end even drove him, along with his wife and children, out of their own home.
And then Jean and Nanette went into the forest. Here they had a piece of land, so small and unprepossessing that even the moneylender did not covet it.
The travelers stopped at the foot of a huge oak tree on the edge of the road. The children began to collect dry leaves under the trees, and soon they collected a whole bunch of them. Jean lit a fire from the branches of a wind-fallen fir tree. Nanette took a handful of flour, a couple of onions, and salt from the bag and cooked soup in an old cauldron. After praying, everyone ate.
Night has come. The children, one after another, climbed into the pile of dry leaves and soon fell asleep right there. In this warm feather bed, fragrant with grass, mushrooms, spruce and other forest aromas, they felt good, like angels in heaven.
After washing the dishes, Nanette sat down by the fire. Lost in thought, she looked at the dying coals. Jean, exhausted by the misfortunes that had befallen him and anxiety about the fate of his family, would like to fall asleep, but he could not. He decided to wander through the forest to unwind... The peasant walked in the dark, among the trees. He looked pleadingly at the sky and wiped away his tears with his sleeve.
A certain nobleman, dark-eyed, tall, suddenly came out of the fog with a majestic step and blocked Jean’s path. He was wearing a black cap with a long white feather, a green cloak and yellow trousers. His left hand gripped the handle of a hunting knife. With his right hand, he patted the poor man on the shoulder in a friendly and patronizing manner.
In a gentle, insinuating voice, the beautiful stranger addressed the peasant:
- My friend Jean, why this lonely walk at such a late hour? You look very sad!
A strange glow appeared around them, but Jean was so excited by the unexpected meeting with the nobleman that he did not pay attention to it. He replied:
“Sir, I don’t have the honor of knowing your name.” I see that you don’t know who I am either. How can I not be sad when my wife and I and our small children are left without a roof over our heads? We were robbed and now we are destined to die in a dense forest...
- Jean, let it be known to you that I am the court architect of the Romon count. Many years ago I left these parts and did not appear here for a long time. That's why you've never seen me. But I knew your venerable father. He, I remember, owned a large fortune. I heard about your failures and so I decided to come to your aid. I want to offer you a deal.
Would you believe, in just two days I can build an entire city with a hundred beautiful houses, a fortress, towers and a castle. Once, in just one night, I built a monastery three times larger than the Cistercian monastery of Fii Dio, which stands not far from Romon.
It will only take me a few hours to build you an excellent house and plant a wonderful garden around it. In gratitude, I will ask you only for a small sign of attention. So, tomorrow morning, if you want it, of course, you will have a home!
Fascinated, excited and surprised, Jean answered:
- Sir, I really want to get a new house. But what kind of payment will you demand for it?
- Oh, I ask for very little, because I am so rich! As I already told you - just a sign of attention: if by tomorrow morning I finish building a house and plant a magnificent garden on your land, you will give me either a trunk that will appear from a pile of dry leaves that your children collected, or a branch from this trunk, or the first bundle of brushwood you made. If my work is not finished before the first rooster, you will not owe me anything. Will it work?
“Really, sir, I don’t know what to answer.” For a house with a garden, you ask for such a small thing - a tree trunk that will never grow from a pile of dry leaves, a branch from this trunk, a bundle of brushwood... Of course, I will give you whatever you want. I'm a beggar. Take what you find.
Without thinking twice, Jean concluded this strange agreement with an unfamiliar nobleman. The deal was sealed with a handshake, and Jean’s fingers felt like they were on fire. But he was so happy that he forgot to be surprised, and, humming and laughing merrily, hurried to the oak tree under which his family was located.
Hearing Jean laugh, Nanette ran towards him in fear. She thought that grief had clouded his mind. But her husband hugged her and told her about the contract with the architect.
Upon learning of the deal, Nanette seemed petrified. Having come to her senses, instead of sharing her husband’s joy, she said in a voice trembling with excitement:
- Jean, you made a terrible mistake. Don't you know who walks through the forest at night? The stranger in green clothes... it's the devil himself! Why were you talking to him?
There was despair in Nanette's beautiful eyes.
“Because of your stupidity, we went bankrupt,” and I didn’t reproach you with a word. Because of your stupidity, our children were left homeless and without a piece of bread - and I was with you all the time to console you in difficult times. But never live with a man who gives his wife, child or his own soul to Satan!
-What are you talking about, Nanette? I don’t understand anything... What are you saying? - Jean stammered.
- There’s nothing to understand here, unfortunate one! The trunk that will appear from the pile of leaves that the children prepared for us to sleep is you yourself, the head of our family. The branch from the trunk is me. And the first armful of brushwood you tie is the first child you will dress in the morning.
After listening to his wife, the poor peasant threw himself face down on the ground, shouting:
- Devil! Devil! I gave Nanette to the devil!
But the smart woman began to reassure her hapless husband:
“Listen, Jean, everything will be fine if you at least once in my life give me the opportunity to do as I see fit.” Go to sleep, bury yourself in the leaves and don't worry about anything. The devil hasn’t taken me yet, and I’ll try not to fall into his clutches.
Wailing, Jean crawled into a pile of dry leaves and fell asleep there next to the children.
As soon as midnight struck in the bell tower of the Romon church, a whole squad of little devils flew out of the underworld, holding in their tenacious hands saws, axes, planes, hammers, nails and other tools necessary for masons, joiners and carpenters. Nanette saw with amazement how they, like a flock of black crows, flew across the sky and landed not far from the oak tree. Without wasting any time, the little devils eagerly set to work.
One after another, the trees fell to the ground with a crash and roar. The horned carpenters cut the branches in the blink of an eye and immediately began planing the trunks and sawing the logs. The devils plowed and loosened the hard forest soil with such ease, as if it were freshly fallen snow. The hellish builders ran back and forth with wheelbarrows filled to the brim, easily pulling huge stones out of the soil and throwing them to the side. The devil's saws screeched so loudly that Nanette wanted to cover her ears. Hundreds of small creatures - black, stocky and bow-legged - scurried through the forest at incredible speed. But at the same time they did not collide and did not interfere with each other’s work.
The house grew before our eyes. At two o'clock in the morning the foundation was already standing near the road. And half an hour later the walls rose. By three o'clock the devils had cut through the windows and doors! By four o'clock the tiled roof was almost ready! Around the house under construction, the devilish gardeners planted young trees, which, at the behest of someone’s witchcraft, immediately began to bloom and bear fruit. The main work was coming to an end, and some builders began to work on small details: carvings appeared on the shutters, flower pots were lined up on the window sills, a beautiful painting of a peacefully wandering herd of cows was hung above the entrance to the house - it had just been painted by a horned artist.
Jean woke up. Shaking with fear, from time to time he poked his head out of a pile of dry leaves, but quickly hid back, seeing among the little imps scurrying around at the edge of the forest, the tall figure of one who called himself the court architect of the Romon count, but in fact turned out to be Satan himself.
Nanette also followed the actions of the hellish builders and their leader. But, unlike her husband, she did not sit idly by. The brave woman, armed with a rosary and a bottle of holy water, approached the cart, where a chicken and a rooster were dozing in a cage covered with a piece of matting, and with the end of a stick she drew a line on the ground around herself. She knew well that such a circle was a sure defense against the attacks of evil spirits. Then Nanette began to read the Gospel of John - with such speed and with such zeal that you will only meet with a venerable Capuchin.
The sacred words reached the ear of the black architect. He became wary and hissed angrily, because he felt that the peasant’s wife was planning to interfere with him. The devil began to slowly approach the cart. Now he had already come very close and was preparing to grab Nanette! But that was not the case. He was unable to cross the circle. He stood very close to Nanette and cast glances at her full of anger and contempt. To ward off the evil one, Nanette began to sprinkle holy water on him, and the drops burned the devil like a hot iron. And then the black architect realized that there was no place for fear in this woman’s heart and she would do everything to save herself, her children and her husband from the devil’s scourge. Cursing rudely, he turned away from the peasant’s wife and went to quickly finish building the house.
Morning was approaching. Jean looked in horror at the wonderful house erected by the little devils. His nostrils were tickled by the delicate scent of daffodils that had bloomed a minute ago in the garden that had emerged from oblivion. He heard the whisper of water in the fountain located in front of the porch. The peasant noticed with what malice the devil was looking towards Nanette, and suddenly he clearly realized that his wife was dearer to him than anything in the world.
The bell tower of Romona struck six. The house was almost completed, only a few tiles were missing. Messire the devil climbed onto the roof with the speed of lightning. His assistants leaned a long ladder against the wall, and the little imp began to quickly climb up to give the missing tiles to his master, who happily rubbed his hands, looking at Nanette and believing that her soul was already in his claws. But the peasant’s wife, having finished reading the prayer, quickly tore a piece of old matting from the cage in which the chickens and rooster were sleeping. The rays of the rising sun awakened the birds. The rooster perked up, and his morning greeting to the world was heard throughout the forest. A shrill "ku-ka-re-ku!" The roosters of the surrounding villages heard and in turn responded with loud singing.
Hearing the crow of a cock, the devil shuddered and, unable to stay on the sloping roof, fell to the ground. Jumping to his feet, he shouted a terrible curse and with all his horned assistants - carpenters, carpenters, gardeners, masons - disappeared in a column of fire and smoke that suddenly burst out of the ground. A heavy smell of sulfur hung over the edge of the forest, but it was carried away by the first gust of fresh wind. There was such silence in the forest that you could hear the birds waking up and drops of the rain falling from the leaves. And among the centuries-old fir trees stood a large new house, surrounded by a magnificent garden, in which, despite the late autumn, the fruit trees were hung with yellow apples, blue plums and red cherries.
Some chronicles that tell how the devil built a house for a peasant also say that Jean had to consecrate a new home before he settled in it with his wife and children. Although the devil left these people alone, mysterious spells did not allow the construction to be completed - the remaining pieces of tiles did not want to stay on the roof and fell to the ground. Then Jean went to the abbot of the nearest monastery and told him about the tricks of Satan. The worthy father listened carefully to Jean and, without thinking twice, sent several brothers to help him, who were ordered to go to the new house at sunset and pray at its walls until the morning.
So, the six strongest and most pious monks went into the forest. All night they asked the Lord God to dispel the forces of hell. And in the morning a white dove landed on the roof of the house. One of the brothers took pieces of tiles, climbed up the ladder and placed them in the place where they should have been, but did not want to hold on. Oh miracle! The tiles seemed to have grown to the roof and were no longer falling. Since then, Jean, his brave wife Nanette and their children began to live and live in the new house, and they never again thought about the black architect and his assistants. Such is human ingratitude!
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru