Sur la trace des Pixies du Dartmoor… Widecombe-in-the-moor

Widecombe-in-the-moor est un charmant petit village niché au creux du Dartmoor. Il est connu pour être le lieu de hantises et d’apparitions spectrales mais surtout pour une chanson du folklore anglais qui parle d’un cheval fantôme apparaissant à la veille de chaque foire du village.

A l’intérieur de l’église, on peut voir la représentation de ce cheval fantôme monté par toute une série de villageois.

Voici la chanson en question:

Tom Pearce. Tom Pearce, lend me your grey mare,
All along, down along, out along lee,
For I want for to go to Widdecombe Fair,
Wi’ Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old uncle Tom Cobley and all, old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

And when shall I see again my grey mare?
All along, down along, out along lee,
By Friday soon, or Saturday noon,
Wi’ Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old uncle Tom Cobley and all, old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

Then Friday came, and Saturday noon,
All along, down along, out along lee,
But Tom Pearce’s old mare hath not trotted home
Wi’ Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old uncle Tom Cobley and all, old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

So Tom Pearce he got up to the top o’ the hill
All along, down along, out along lee,
And he seed his old mare down a making her will
Wi’ Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old uncle Tom Cobley and all, old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

So Tom Pearce’s old mare, her took sick and died.
All along, down along, out along lee,
And Tom he sat down on a stone, and he cried
Wi’ Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old uncle Tom Cobley and all, old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

But this isn’t the end o’this shocking affair,
All along, down along, out along lee,
Nor, though they be dead of the horrid career
Of Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old uncle Tom Cobley and all, old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night
All along, down along, out along lee,
Tom Pearce’s old mare doth appear ghastly white,
Wi’ Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old uncle Tom Cobley and all, old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

And all the long night be heard skirling and groans,
All along, down along, out along lee,
From Tom Pearce’s old mare in her rattling bones
And from Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old uncle Tom Cobley and all, old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

Deux versions légérement différentes 😉