Grotto of Corbierre

In those days, when the oldest elders of our parish still ran around without pants, Agnes Depe lived with her husband in a secluded cottage where the road to Corbière began. This road passed by the fairy grotto, and its entrance was clearly visible from the sea. In the quiet of the night, Agnes often heard the sound of a spinning wheel, and its dull noise seemed to come from beneath the stone by the hearth. Sometimes, a rooster crowed beneath the stone, a child cried, or the sound of churning butter could be heard. But neither Agnes nor her husband were afraid of these underground sounds, for they knew they came from the fairies living in the Corbière grotto—these fairies were not evil, and no one could say a bad word about them.

One night, a fisherman came to fetch Agnes's husband to go fishing on the Mara shore. While her husband was getting dressed, Agnes, lying in bed, asked the fisherman:

"Do you know what time it is?"

"No," he replied, "I don’t know exactly."

No sooner had he spoken these words than a voice came from beneath the ground:

"It is now two o'clock in the morning."

The people present didn’t even flinch; they only laughed, as they were already accustomed to the sounds coming from beneath the hearthstone. They knew it was none other than a fairy who had answered, and they loudly said:

"Thank you."

Some time later, Agnes's child fell ill, so gravely that it seemed he might die at any moment. The mother, not knowing how to help him, grieved deeply.

"Oh, my God," she lamented, "my poor child is dying!"

Suddenly, she heard a muffled noise in the chimney, as if someone was tapping on the stone by the hearth, and at the same moment, a voice said:

"Your child has croup. Get up and come here; I will give you medicine, and he will recover."

This time, Agnes was frightened and quickly ducked under the blanket. But remembering her sick child, she gathered her courage, jumped out of bed, and lit a candle. She then saw that the stone beneath the hearth had shifted and was slowly rising. Agnes helped lift it, and when the stone stood on its edge, a hand emerged from the opening and handed her a small bottle.

"Rub this tincture on the child’s throat and chest," said the voice from beneath the ground, "and hide the bottle well."

The stone returned to its place, leaving no trace that it had been moved. Agnes hurried to rub the medicine on her son; he immediately stopped complaining and soon recovered. Overjoyed, Agnes blabbed everything to her neighbor. The news spread from one person to another, passing through the villages. Helpful Agnes began lending her bottle to anyone whose children fell ill, and they recovered very quickly.

A long time passed, and one day Agnes's husband suffered from severe colic; the pain was so intense that he writhed in agony. Agnes ran to her neighbor to fetch the bottle—there was still a little tincture left at the bottom. But the neighbor accidentally dropped the bottle, and it shattered into pieces.

The poor woman returned home heartbroken, as her husband's pain only grew worse, and she feared he was on the brink of death. She sat by the hearth and said, sobbing:

"Beneficent fairy, you gave me a bottle that healed my child and many others—surely you won’t let my husband die?"

No one answered. Then she lifted the stone with an axe, knelt before the opening, and began to cry and beg for help. Finally, a hand appeared, and the fairy handed her a bottle, saying:

"Be careful, Agnes—this is the last bottle I can give you. Make sure not to lend it to anyone and never tell a soul about it."

As soon as Agnes rubbed the tincture on her husband, he recovered immediately, and this time, she carefully hid the bottle in a cupboard.

Some time later, Agnes heard a song coming from beneath the ground. The melody was so tender and beautiful that she was delighted. Three or four voices sang in harmony, and she called her neighbor to listen. The next night, a violin played for a long time underground.

All these wonders made Agnes ponder, and she said to herself, "Someday, they will all rise up and enter my house through the opening in the hearth."

But the thought that the inhabitants of the grotto had done her no harm comforted her. Then she remembered the cow and two sheep that had been stolen from her pasture.

"I must ask the fairies," she thought, "who is stealing the livestock. Surely, the fairies can tell me if they wish."

Another night, she heard a voice again:

"Neighbor, do you have a light?"

"Yes," Agnes replied, "at your service."

And the stone by the hearth rose. Agnes took a burning splinter, brought it to the opening, and saw a beautiful woman's hand adorned with sparkling rings on every finger reaching out to her.

"Ah, madam," Agnes said, "can you tell me where to find my cow and both sheep? I would be very grateful, for I now have nothing for my poor children."

"Very well," the fairy replied. "Here is a small box with ointment made from sheep and cow horns. Rub it on the ropes you used to tie your animals, and you will have your sheep and cow back."

The stone returned to its place, and the next day, as soon as dawn broke, Agnes rubbed the rope that had tied her stolen cow, and immediately, a beautiful cow appeared before her. She rubbed the ropes used for her sheep, and new sheep appeared, even better than the stolen ones.

Agnes was overjoyed, though she regretted not asking for bread. She kept thinking about it and repeated:

"How wonderful it would be to ask the fairy for a magical loaf of bread that would never run out!"

One night, when there was not a crumb of food in the house, Agnes's child began crying from hunger, asking for bread. Agnes heard a noise underground and, placing a hammer in her child's hand, said:

"Knock firmly on the stone by the hearth and ask the kind lady who has done us so much good for bread."

She spoke very loudly—on purpose, so that she would be heard. The boy took the hammer, struck the stone with all his might, and sweetly pleaded:

"Kind lady, give me bread; I am hungry!"

They heard something tap on the stone: tap-tap! The stone rose, a hand placed a loaf of bread on the hearth, and a voice said:

"Take this bread, child. If you treat my gift with care and share it only with your parents, it will last you a lifetime."

The loaf always remained whole, no matter how much was cut from it. This lasted for ten years. But one evening, Agnes's husband, having drunk too much, brought a friend home, took the fairy-given bread from the cupboard, and cut a large slice for his guest. The magical bread vanished in an instant, and no matter how much Agnes and her children pleaded with the fairies from the grotto to give them another loaf, the fairies remained deaf to their pleas.

↑ To the top

Grotto of Corbierre

More fairy tales