Although it is very small, just nine miles by five, Jersey has an incredibly rich history and heritage and an assortment of myths and legends, many of which are linked to the sea
One of the best-known local stories is of a huge black dog that roamed the area around Bouley Bay, a picturesque harbour in the parish of Trinity on the north coast. This giant, black dog had glowing red and yellow eyes the size of saucers. In some versions of the tale, he had very long and extremely sharp teeth.
The Black Dog is a creature that appears in folklore worldwide. Most commonly found in England, but also in France, it may have originated in Celtic or Germanic elements of European culture – the origins of the black dog are difficult to clarify. In European mythology dogs have been associated with death but can have guardian roles. In England, the Black Dog is often connected with the devil or is an omen of death. The Norman ‘Rongeur des Os’ speaks for itself – the gnawer of bones.
Often regarded as sinister, Black Dogs can be associated with electrical storms, with crossroads, barrows, places of execution and ancient pathways, and as harbingers of tragedy and death. The black dog can also guard treasure. In Jersey and Guernsey, but mainly in Normandy, magicians can turn themselves into such dogs, as the varou. Some Black Dogs are said to behave benevolently as guardians, guiding travellers at night onto the safe path or warn fishermen of coming storms.
Image from Mêfie-té des Monstres! Tchiques Légendes dé Jèrri
In his book, Jersey Folklore & Superstitions Volume One the Jersey-based author and artist Giles Bois examines the worldwide legend of the Black Dog. He says Lé Tchian du Bouôlay can be regarded as a global personality – one of the “messenger” dogs most closely related to the “dogs of the dead” of Indo-European and other mythologies. Lé Tchian du Bouôlay has been described as a varou or an ouathou – meaning ‘man-wolf’, but which is a gigantic black dog with huge eyes.
In Jersey, the Black Dog was thought to have roamed the cliff paths around Bouley Bay dragging a chain behind him. His lair is known as Lé Trou du Tchian – the hole of the dog. His route started at a cave near Rozel Mill, passing by La Grand’ Falaîses and La P’tite Falaîses and on past Les Croix to Les Hautes Croix in St John, where he would turn right towards Les Platons, on to Lé Tas d’Geon then up to Les Huthets, then down to the harbour, behind Le Porteret and back to his den. Another account locates his den in Lé Creux below Verclut.
Those who had glimpsed the Black Dog gave varying reports of what he looked like. Some said it was the size of a bull, smooth furred with ears flat like a hound and huge eyes as yellow as gold. Others described the Black Dog as like a giant black wolf, the size of a bear, with eyes that glowed red as the flames of hell.
The sound of the chain he dragged was often the first warning victims have of the presence of the Black Dog. He frightened people so much that they would stop in their tracks, only to be caught up with by the dog. To terrify them even more he would then run around his frozen victims at great speed.
But apparently no actual bodily harm was ever done to any of the victims – they would be found cowering against a hedge, unable to move because of the shock of an encounter with the Black Dog. Consequently, the slightest mention that the dog had been heard was enough to send people hurrying back to their homes.
Etching by Giles Bois
It was said that a sighting of Lé Tchian du Bouôlay foretold the impending death of a loved one.
Some people warned that the Black Dog chased unwary folk to their deaths from the cliffs, or that he savaged people viciously. Others swore that the Black Dog would protect the vulnerable from harm. As a storm herald, a sighting of the dog, or the sound of its howl, would warn fishermen to stay away from the sea.
Among the many rumours of the Black Dog, was that he led lost travellers to safety. There are also accounts in which people claim to have seen the Black Dog sitting peacefully beside the road surrounded by rabbits.
Islanders have always been aware of the potential dangers of the rising tide and of the sea that surrounds their home. During the Dark Ages a spirit of mystery developed, primal fears became palpable, including the threat of unknown forces at the shoreline. It is understandable how something as innocent as the sound of pebbles and shingle being moved by the tide on the sloping beach of Bouley Bay might be misinterpreted as the sound of a chain being dragged by a monster dog.
It is likely that the Black Dog of Bouley Bay is a story that was re-purposed and embellished by smugglers to cover their illicit activities – scaring people and keeping them away from Bouley Bay at nighttime, enabling smugglers to land brandy and tobacco without being seen. But the fact that there are tales of sightings of other Black Dogs around the Island, suggests it is unlikely that the Dog of Bouley was actually invented by the smugglers. Black dogs in this role, being impersonated by crooks, do not appear anywhere else in Europe. The exploitation of an existing frightening local superstition meant that at night the bay and inland environs would be deserted so smugglers could more easily store landed contraband in caves along the north coast and then move their ‘goods’ inland.
The smugglers might kill a sheep to add to the illusion of a dangerous beast on the prowl in the area. Then locals would stay at home enabling kegs of brandy to be dragged by the smugglers to their hiding place undisturbed and indetected.
Giles Bois writes about Lé Tchian du Bouôlay quoting (in translation) a story by ‘Jean du Vallon’ from an Almanach de La Chronique de Jersey, that the dog is a drôle animal, “Sometimes he is small, nearly as a rabbit; sometimes he is enormous, like a year-old calf; sometimes he is white, sometimes black, or very grey, or very red, or deep yellow. One time his coat might be as smooth as that of a sweating horse, that has been shorn and then singed; another time, he has a pelt like that of an old billy-goat.”
He refers to two stories from newspapers – the Chronique de Jersey and the Nouvelle Chronique, both written in Jèrriais by Jean du Vallon, who describes Lé Tchian du Bouôlay as a chameleon able to change his colour, shape and size. His paws are not like a dog’s, with claws, but the cloven hooves of a goat. Just as his eyes change size and colour, the dog’s character also changes – first appearing small and harmless then rising on his hind legs. This ties in with the idea of smugglers disguising themselves as Lé Tchian du Bouôlay – first walking on all fours then having to rise on to two to chase their victims as they ran away.
A very different theory is that Lé Tchian (“The Dog”) is an aural corruption of Le Chouan, a term for a French Royalist or émigré – many of whom took refuge in the Island during the French Revolution (1789-1799) – and that the legend of Lé Tchian du Bouôlay took off from there. This fascinating but unlikely theory regarding the origin of the Black Dog was suggested by the Jersey folklorist, John H L’Amy, who in 1927 published an analysis of the folklore found in Jersey in his book, Jersey Folk Lore. Apparently the French emigrés who came to Jersey to escape the Revolution were well known for playing tricks, so L’Amy thought it was feasible that one might have dressed up as a dog to scare the locals. The theory inspired an illustration by Giles Bois.
In her book on Jersey Legends author Erren Michaels writes how on nights when the Black Dog roamed the hills of Bouley Bay people would lock themselves in their houses, bar the shutters and bolt their doors. Alternatively, they might seek refuge in the Black Dog Tavern.
Whether the Black Dog was an evil spirit, or a benevolent freak of nature was a topic of much debate around Bouley Bay. Although sceptics considered the whole thing a rumour spread by smugglers to keep people away from the coast at night, if someone came in to the Tavern having had a fright, they would be asked if the Dog of Bouley was about, or, ‘have you been bitten by the Dog of Bouley?’- the dog signifying something unnatural, like a phantom or ghost.
A Black Dog tavern or inn stood above Bouley Bay for several centuries – its name a constant reminder of the legend.
Giles Bois published a book of atmospheric images created from copperplate etchings illustrating his poems inspired by Jersey legends and folklore, including one about The Dog of Bouley:
Lé Tchian du Bouôlay
Silent and lonely; moving without sound,
he’ll follow you.
Don’t turn around.
Below the leaning ranks of trees,
deep in the lane between the banks,
Great Eyes are burning.
He seeks a friend, all men fear him,
he brings the storm at close of day.
He won’t come closer, he won’t go away.
Be brief in your business, be quick on the road,
Reach your threshold, bolt the door.
Giles also created a large papier mâché sculptural representation of the Black Dog of Bouley Bay, that is displayed at the Maritime Museum on the New North Quay.
Historian Paul Darroch has explored some of the myths and legends that have captivated Islanders for hundreds of years – explaining the story behind them and what they tell us about ourselves and the community we belong to. In his Bailiwick Podcast he shares some of the stories and insights, including about the Black Dog of Bouley Bay.
Local artist Kerry-Jane Warner, who uses a variety of techniques and media including printmaking, produced a beautifully stylised and animated linocut interpretation of Lé Tchian du Bouôlay.
A linocut by Kerry Jane Warner
In his book, Mêfie-té des Monstres! Tchiques Légendes dé Jèrri Geraint Jennings recounts an experience of cycling in Trinity and coming across some black dogs that his imagination suggested may be related to the Black Dog of Bouley or “Lé Tchico” – the black dog of death. He illustrates the story with a very lively graphic illustration.
A lively graphic illustration by Geraint Jennings
Other artists’ interpretations of the Black Dog have featured on local stamps: an illustration by Jennifer Toombs was used in 1997 for Sages and Legends / Stories from Jersey and a painting by Nick Parlett was used in 2016 for Jersey Myths and Legends.