neighbours; this part of the campaign was prosecuted with vigour. Cattle
were lost on either side of the boundary; houses were burnt; old wells
ran dry; rumours, mysteriously circulated, spoke of these as no
accidental mishaps; suspicions were whispered; instances of retaliation
followed. At the time when a dangerous feeling was thus growing up a
famine broke out in the Voizin country while the islanders were well
supplied. The hungry Voizin men heard voices in the darkness scoffing
at them, laughter and sneers. When their carts were sent to fetch the
necessaries of life, lynch-pins were loosened; in more than one case the
draught oxen were houghed; the provisions, when received, were mouldy
and unwholesome. At last sickness broke out, with stories of poison;
then the tension became insupportable. The Voizin chief, too proud to go
to his neighbours, summoned them to him; the messenger was murdered.
This assassination, of which the natives denied all knowledge, was met
by prompt reprisals; three Perelle fishermen were hung on the spot where
the body was found. From this date the outbreak of hostilities was but a
question of time. A sternness of purpose ruled in the councils of the
Voizins which frustrated all attempts at conciliation. A little before
Christmas a trivial incident kindled the smouldering flames, and the
hordes, pouring from the Torteval valleys, swept over the districts now
known as the parishes of St. Saviour's and the Câtel; the resistance was
tame and ineffectual, sufficient only to give occasion for considerable
slaughter and plunder. The invaders, seeing no reason for returning to
their famine-stricken fastnesses, settled themselves in the enjoyment of
the abundance of the vanquished, who, in their turn, with their
accustomed versatility, submitted patiently, and even cheerfully, to a
yoke which, after the first onslaught was over, pressed lightly; the
Voizins, to whom fighting was a pastime, bearing no malice, and passing
imperceptibly into a genial mood.