The Mahwot is a monstrous creature that makes its home in the Meuse River snaking through the Ardennes. A lizard-like amphibious monster the size of a calf, it runs back and forth on the bottom of the river from Revin to Liège and back. It has been sighted at Revin and Givet on a July night in 1870.
Its primary purpose lies in keeping children away from the water. As an aquatic bogey, it will not hesitate to pull in and devour any child foolish enough to play too near the Meuse.
The mahwot rarely leaves the water. Its appearance on land is believed to be a bad omen, presaging death, war, or pestilence. More importantly, it will haul itself onto land at the beck and call of angry mothers to eat naughty children. As the warning in the local dialect goes, “V’la le Mahwot, si tu n’ti tais nai, d’ji vas t’fouaire mandjie!” (“here’s the mahwot, if you don’t shut up right now, I’ll have you eaten!”). The phrase is effective.
References
Lambot, J. (1987) L’Ardenne. Pierre Mardaga, Brussels.
Meyrac, A. (1890) Traditions, coutumes, légendes et contes des Ardennes. Petit Ardennais, Charleville.
Roeschaard’s
name is attributed to his call of “Roes, roes, roes!” Etymologically it may be
derived from the Scandinavian ruske,
“to rush at”; the Anglo-Saxon breosan,
“terrify”, or the Dutch roezen,
“making a din”. It may also simply be another variant of Osschaard, derived
from ors, “horse” or “mount”, and hard, “strong”. Sometimes the name is used
to simply mean the devil.
The 1874
almanac of Blankenberge tells of the dreadful storm of 1791. It destroyed the hut
of a suspected witch on the beach, and the inhabitants were overjoyed, smashing
what little was left of the ruins. Then a spinechilling sound rang out over the
dunes – “Roes, roes, roes!” A huge black dog with bells around its neck came
running down the dunes, and the villagers scattered. That dog was Roeschaard.
Roeschaard
puts his shapeshifting powers to use in performing cruel pranks. There is no
limit to the forms he can take. He turns into a fish and allows himself to be
caught before destroying the net. He gets into boats and tips them over. He
pounces on people’s backs and rides them to exhaustion. In the form of a baby, he
allows people to take him home before laughing wickedly and escaping, calling
out “Roes, roes, roes!” behind him.
The sailors
of Blankenberge eventually found a way to escape Roeschaard’s attentions. By
giving themselves a second baptism and a new name, they would break
Roeschaard’s power over them. The ceremony undertaken by new sailors involved
being splashed with salt water while the following formula was intoned:
I baptize you,
and may Roeschaard, the thrice-ugly one, turn away. Turn, turn, turn, your name
is [here the requisite sea-name was given]
Thus if
Roeschaard came to claim someone, they could simply tell him they were not the
person he was looking for. Since then Roeschaard’s power has been in decline.
References
van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.
de Vries,
A. (2007) Flanders: a cultural history.
Oxford University Press, Oxford.
Found in maritime
Flanders, land of Waas, and especially Hamme, near Dendermonde, Osschaert is
one of several mischievous shapeshifters that plague Belgium. He was
particularly around the chapel of Twee Bruggen.
According to van Hageland, his name may be a combination of ors, an archaic word denoting a horse or more generally a mount, or os, an ox, with hard, meaning “strong” or “valiant”. In this sense, Osschaard or Osschaert is a headstrong and dangerous steed.
As with others of his kind, Osschaert appears in countless forms, most notably a human-headed bull with heavy chains on its legs and feet. He has also appeared as a dog, a rabbit, a horse, a giant, a dwarf… At Knoche-sur-mer, where he serves as a bogey to frighten children, he is a ghost with a bull’s head. Commonly he drags a long length of chain behind him.
Osschaert is
mischievous rather than actively evil. He delights in jumping on the backs of
people and forcing them to carry him until they collapse. He is just as likely
to jump off his mount’s shoulders to dive into a woman’s basket, causing her to
stagger under the sudden load. Osschaert particularly enjoys tormenting sinners
and wicked people, and will target them above all others.
He rules
over all the water in the area, so the first fish caught is returned as an
appeasing gift to Osschaert. Not that he’s guaranteed to ensure a good catch.
And beware of catching fish without thanking Osschaert! One fisherman dragged
his catch onto the beach only to find himself pinned down for an hour by Osschaert;
when he was finally released his catch had disappeared. Another fisherman
pulled an incredibly heavy net onto his boat, only to find it full of horse
manure.
At the
church of Twee Bruggen, daring Osschaert out loud to scratch you will result in
a mauling. Specifically, one only has to utter the formula Grypke, Grypke grauw, wilt gy my grypen, grypt my nou (“Grypke,
Grypke grey, if you will gripe me, gripe me now”) and Osschaert will appear on
your back and ride you to the nearest crossroads or image of the Virgin Mary.
In fact, in areas where people dared Osschaert to appear resulted in the spirit
becoming more cruel and aggressive due to being repeatedly called upon.
A young man
of Doel, crossing a field by night, found himself face to face with an
enormous, monstrous horse. “This is Osschaert”, he thought to himself. “I must
get out of his way”. He decided to pass through the churchyard, but then met a
dog the size of a horse on the main road. He crossed himself and took another
path to the churchyard, but there was Osschaert in the form of a rabbit,
jumping back and forth towards him. He tried to turn around the churchyard,
only to find Osschaert waiting for him in the shape of a donkey with enormous
fiery eyes the size of plates! That was the point when the man gave up, jumped
the wall, and ran home in a cold sweat.
Another
man, a fisherman of Kieldrecht named Blommaert, thought he could outsmart
Osschaert. He usually placed his catch of fish in a water-tub near the window.
One night he found that some fish were missing; not only that, but there were
ashes on the hearth, as though someone had broiled the fish on the embers.
Blommaert could find no signs of break-in, and concluded Osschaert was behind
this mischief. When the same thing happened a second time, he decided to cure
Osschaert of his thieving behavior. He covered the entire hearth with
horse-dung, and scattered some ashes over it to disguise it. Osschaert showed
up as usual, pronouncing “Blommeken, vischkens braeyen”, but when he tried to
cook the fish it ended up spoiled with the dung. He ran away screaming and
cursing in frustration. Blommaert celebrated his cunning revenge – but alas, it
does not pay to outwit Osschaert. The next day, when Blommaert drew in his net,
he found it extraordinarily heavy. After much effort, he hauled it on deck, and
found it to be full to cracking with horse-dung. Osschaert laughed loud and
long, and Blommaert returned home angry and defeated.
Today Osschaert
is retired, if not dead. A priest at Hamme was said to have banished Osschaert
to wander at the sea-shore for ninety-nine years. And at Spije, Malines, one
can see Osschaert’s coffin. It is a small coffin-shaped bridge over a stream.
References
van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.
Harou, A. (1905) Mythologie et folk-lore de l’enfance. Revue des Traditions Populaires, v. XX, p. 96.
Thorpe, B. (1852) Northern Mythology, v. III. Edward Lumley, London.
The first notable record of Kludde’s appearance was penned in 1840 in Ternat, by the Baron of Saint-Genois. This back-riding shapeshifter appears in Brabant and Flanders, notably in Merchtem and in Dendermonde, where he lives in the Dendre. In Ostend he is considered a necker or nix, and the flat country knows him as a werewolf. He causes fear and confusion and drinks green pond-water, but avoids crosses and consecrated areas.
Kludde
comes out at night in the Flemish mists. He has earned his name from the call
he cries while fleeing – “Kludde, Kludde”! As a shapeshifter, he has no fixed
appearance, and Kludde has been encountered in the forms of a great black dog
with a rattling chain around its neck, a half-starved horse, a sheep, a cat, a bat,
a frog, or even a tree. The only constant in Kludde’s transformations is the
presence of two dancing blue flames that flit ahead of him. These are Kludde’s
eyes.
The pranks
Kludde plays are mischievous but not deadly. In the guise of a black dog or werewolf
he will jump onto a person’s neck, and vanish after wrestling his victim to the
ground. As a horse, he tricks people into riding him, only to gallop full-tilt
and fling his rider into a body of water. As his erstwhile jockey flounders in
the water, Kludde lies on his belly and laughs loud and long, vanishing only
when the victim emerges from the water. As a tree, Kludde appears as a small
and delicate sapling, before growing to such a height that his branches are
lost in the clouds. This unexpected event shocks and unnerves all who see it,
and amuses Kludde.
It is
foolish to evade Kludde, as he can wind like a snake in any direction, foiling
attempts to outmaneuver him. Trying to seize him is like grabbing air, and it
leaves burns behind. He can also make himself invisible to some people and not
to others, driving travelers out of their minds as they try to describe the
protean creature tailing them – yet when their companions look behind, they see
nothing but an empty road.
References
de Blécourt, W. (2007) “I
Would Have Eaten You Too”: Werewolf
Legends in the Flemish, Dutch, and German Area. Folklore 118, pp. 23-43.
van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.
de Plancy,
J. C. (1863) Dictionnaire Infernal.
Henri Plon, Paris.
Thorpe, B. (1852) Northern Mythology, v. III. Edward
Lumley, London.
Bogeys represent a variety of childhood fears – darkness, retribution, the murky depths of deep ponds… In Wallonia children are menaced by the personification of the bise or icy wind, in the form of a bird with a red beak.
He can be found around Andenne, Bastogne, Dinant, Huy, and Neufchâteau, and Warsage; in On, Oignies, and Stavelot he is simply the “red beak”. The Somme-Leuze redbeak is a monstrous sparrow, the Condroz and Hesbaye variety is a pigeon, while the Namur redbeak is Colôrobètch or Colô Rodje Bètch, the “Red-Beaked Rooster”.
As his name indicates, Colôrobètch has a beak stained red with blood; beyond that, it is unclear whether he is a bird, a human, or a grotesque combination of both. He preys on children unwary enough to walk in the cold without adequate clothing, nipping at their exposed faces and hands until they turn red, dry, cracked, and bleeding. Colôrobètch comes out in the winter to pinch noses and spread frostbite.
In Andenne Colôrobètch becomes a nocturnal water bogey who drags children into the Meuse.
References
Pignolet, M. (1985) La Symbolique du Coq. Le Guetteur Wallon, 61 (3), pp. 81-104.
Tijskens, J. (1965) Les Noms du Croquemitaine en Wallonie. Enquêtes du Musée de la Vie Wallonne, nos. 117-120, tome X, pp. 257-391.
The Traîcousse, also known as Trécouche (pronounced tré-coutche) is a vile creature that can be found lurking in the ponds and waterways of the Southwestern Ardennes and the Semois, especially Hautes-Rivières in France and Bohan in Belgium. As a water bogey, it is invoked to discourage children from entering rivers.
In appearance the traîcousse is most like a large crab, a meter in diameter, with a flattened, rounded body covered with palm-sized brownish scales. Its bloodshot eyes are the size of a human fist. Its mouth is huge and bristles with sharp shark-like teeth, while countless pincer-tipped legs allow it to move and grasp its prey. In some areas the traîcousse has become an ugly river witch.
The deepest part of the river, where the current is fastest, is where the traîcousse lives. It digs itself into small cavities and rocky ledges as it waits for prey to come near. Anything that approaches is seized and dragged under, never to be seen again. Missing livestock, fishermen, and children are its doing.
Every now and then the traîcousse will vomit up the skin and bones of its prey, which rise to the surface in a macabre mix of foam and blood.
References
Lambot, J. (1987) L’Ardenne. Pierre Mardaga, Brussels.
Tijskens, J. (1965) Les Noms du Croquemitaine en Wallonie. Enquêtes du Musée de la Vie Wallonne, nos. 117-120, tome X, pp. 257-391.
Centuries ago, the woods around Antwerp crawled with demons, goblins, and all sorts of evil creatures. They became so troublesome that the townsfolk organized a massive raid, mobilizing priests and arming themselves with bell, book, candle, and icons of the Virgin Mary. The countryside was scoured, and every monster they found was exorcised and banished to the sea.
They did not check the water. One creature escaped their attention by waiting quietly for them to leave. From there he made his way into the canals of Antwerp, where he settled down and incubated his resentment towards humanity.
This was Lange Wapper, or “Long Wapper”. As a shapeshifter, he has no fixed appearance or size. He can be be taller than buildings or the size of a mouse. However, his favored forms usually have long, skinny legs with which he walks on water. These legs can stretch to enormous lengths, allowing him to peer in windows and terrify the inhabitants. The strange movements he makes on those stilt-like legs are the origin of his name, as wapper is an antiquated term for “balance”, and an even more ancient term for “big man”.
Lange Wapper revels in his shapeshifting powers, using them for pranks of varying cruelty. He can become an abandoned kitten, a scared-looking dog, a priest, a nun, a rich man, a beautiful woman, a beggar in rags… any shape that lets him draw unsuspecting victims towards him. Other times Lange Wapper grows to gigantic size and towers over drunkards staggering home at night, frightening them to death. He can duplicate himself as much as he likes, filling dark alleyways with monstrous apparitions. Wappersrui and Wappersbrug are some of his preferred haunts.
A form he often used was a newborn baby, crying on the side of the road. If someone picked him up out of pity, they found their burden slowly growing in weight, until they finally drop it in alarm. The demon then laughs hysterically, and dives back into the canal. He loves milk and especially likes playing this trick on mothers and wet-nurses, draining them dry before making his escape. Lange Wapper also does his best to delay midwives and doctors from attending to women in childbirth.
One time Lange Wapper turned himself into a woman who had four suitors, and soon enough the first suitor arrived to demand her hand in marriage. “I accept, but only if you go to the Notre-Dame cemetery and lay yourself across the crucifix, until midnight”. Confused but elated, the man set off. He was followed by the second suitor, who made the same proposal. “Of course! But only if you go to the Notre-Dame cemetery, take a coffin, carry it to the crucifix, and lie in it until midnight”. The third suitor was told to knock three times on the lid of the coffin, and the fourth had to take an iron chain and run around the crucifix three times, dragging the chain behind him. As expected, the first suitor died of fright when he saw the second crawl into the coffin, the second had a heart attack when the third knocked on his coffin, and the third dropped dead when he heard the fourth running around and rattling his chain. The fourth suitor, baffled, returned to his lover – the real one, this time – to tell her the news, and she committed suicide upon hearing it. Lange Wapper found all this quite amusing.
Lange Wapper does have a soft spot for children, and often becomes a child himself to play with them. But old habits die hard, and he still can’t resist ending the games with some prank.
Unfortunately for Lange Wapper, Antwerp became more and more hostile to him. Modernization of the canals was certainly an annoyance, but the worst came when his fear of Our Lady was discovered. Images of the Virgin Mary proliferated, and soon the demon found himself facing religious imagery everywhere. He has not been seen in a long while; for all we know, he has given up and returned to the sea.
References
Griffis, W. E. (1919) Belgian Fairy Tales. Thomas Y. Crowell, New York.
van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.
Teirlinck, I. (1895) Le Folklore Flamand. Charles Rozez, Brussels.
A Book of Creatures 