Poitou-Charentes myths, legends and history - La Jungle

La Jungle

Poitou-Charentes myths, legends and history

 

La Jungle, and what our animals have taught me 

 

At the edge of the small, rural, farming village of Loubillé in the south of the Deux-Sèvres, is a pretty villa, of a style more commonly found on the Atlantic coast. It is curiously named La Jungle and as well as having an interesting story behind this name, it was home to some unusual inhabitants during the war too.

 

Just before the Second World War, Georges Vignolles (who preferred to go by the name Georgio) and his partner Marie-Thérèse Rouffin, also intriguingly known as Marffa la Corse, purchased a smallholding in Loubillé with a simple wooden dwelling. Marie-Thérèse had run away from home at the age of sixteen and the couple met in 1924 at a travelling circus, and in 1925, Marffa began to learn the art of dressage and wild animal taming, despite never learning how to read and write. 

Marffa la Corse, La Jungle

 

In 1926, aged just eighteen years old, this Deux-Sèvrienne gained the stage name Marffa la Corse following a particularly risky performance at an international competition held on the Mediterranean island of Corsica. Starting out with a lion, two snakes and three monkeys, their circus show, called La Jungle, grew, along with their family, with the arrival of their daughters, Georgette in 1926 and Paulette in 1928. Marffa soon became an internationally celebrated animal tamer, and the Jungle family successfully toured France during the inter-war years. As the 1930’s drew to a close, their daughters were singing as well as performing with animals, including wolves and boa constrictors, and Marffa had a pride of fifteen lions.

Georgio, Marffa, Georgette et Paulette

 

The Occupation put an end to their touring and the family moved to their smallholding in Loubillé, where Marffa’s brother built the villa she named, La Jungle. Whilst it has been a little bit difficult for me to determine exactly how many wild animals moved in with them, and how long the animals remained in Loubillé, there are news reports that talk of lions, tigers, wolves, two magnificent pelicans and a pair of Great Danes to guard the gates, certainly more exotic than the goat farms the village is used to. Those who were at the village school remember after-school visits and the roaring of the beasts that could be heard up to ten kilometres away, depending on the wind.

 

Feeding your family was difficult enough during the Occupation, so ensuring enough meat for lions and tigers can’t have been easy, but Georgio, who seemed to be able to turn his hand to anything, came up with a plan. Their daughter Paulette recounts how her father took over the running of a knacker’s yard business in Javarzay, the owner having been sent to the compulsory work camps in Germany. She would help her father to collect animal carcasses from local farms, hoisting them onto a truck and bringing them back to La Jungle. It was then her job to remove the skins as carefully as possible before the meat was fed to their wild beasts. My neighbour Pierrette has similar recollections in the 1950’s when her father was the local molecatcher, called in to remove moles from vegetable gardens. As young women have smaller and more dainty fingers, they were better able to skin animals without tearing the pelt, which would have been a valuable commodity sold to the textile manufacturers locally.

 

Marffa at work

At the end of the war, while Marffa couldn’t wait to build up her menagerie and begin touring once more, Georgio, was content to enjoy raising ducks, chickens and rabbits on his farm in Loubillé, much like we did after our first few years of living here. There is nothing quite as entertaining as watching the antics of your animals, and since adopting two kittens in 1998, as a newly married couple, we have always shared our home and garden with something furry or feathery, until now. 

 

Mini, January 2008-November 2024

A few weeks ago, we said our goodbyes to Mini, our black Labrador cross who was almost seventeen years old and the last in a long list of much-loved family pets. 

Ed and Willow

The cats, Poppy and Willow, had our undivided focus until Ed was born and although pampered indoor babies when we lived in the UK, soon became quite accustomed to prowling in the orchard and hunting in the barns when they joined us on our French adventure. With barns and animal pens that needed filling, the first additions to our furry family were rabbits and guineapigs. Did you know the squeaking of guineapigs deters rats? They proved to be a useful and cuddly addition to our menagerie, but we really should have stopped at the two female rabbits, Hay and Daisy, as when Henrietta joined them, she turned out to be a Henri meaning we soon had more bunnies than we anticipated.

 

Ducks in our orchard

In the winter of 2005, a male duck flew into our orchard and decided to stay, persuaded I have no doubt by the fact we rushed to the local market and bought him a posse of female ducks as company. With ducks installed, chickens followed, and fresh daily eggs is still something I miss, especially the rich golden yolks of free ranging birds who would feast on the windfall fruits, or in the case of the chickens, pick the ripe cherries from the lower branches.

 

Mini in 2008

Mini joined us in early 2008, a tiny jet-black puppy who was small (and clever) enough to use the cat flap. She never bonded with the cats, who were already ten years old, but as Hay neared the end of her days, Mini would lie with her on the grass, guarding her gently. The most bizarre addition was Brucie the goose who appeared one Sunday morning in early May 2009. We arrived home to find a gosling looking lost and bewildered in the duck pen, young enough to still have some of her fluffy yellow feathers. Our neighbour told us a bearded man had opened the locked back gate, walked down the garden, put Brucie in the barn and left. She had no idea who he was and to this day, he and his reasons for abandoning a goose in our garden remain a mystery. She was a delight, who was with us for over ten years, laid delicious eggs and was happy to chat back every time I went into the barn or orchard.

 

Brucie the goose

Over the years, we witnessed them all tear around as kittens, puppies, bunnies and ducklings, before calming and slowing down, then eventually growing frail, losing weight and suffering from health issues. Eyesight and hearing failed, teeth fell out, they were not as nimble as they once were, and then came the inevitable incontinence. Willow would curl up, fall asleep on my lap and pee herself, Mini had no idea what her bowels were up to this last year, and Poppy would think she was in her litter tray, but hadn’t quite lined herself up. In short, we have a much better idea of old age than I think we would have if we hadn’t shared our lives with these animals. They have also taught us so much about love and tolerance, especially Yum Yum, the duck, who died of a broken heart after losing his lady companion. 

 

Café stops on bike adventures

We miss them, and the house feels empty and quiet without Mini, but for now, our lives will remain animal free as we make the most of our time to travel and explore our beloved France, by bicycle, before old age creeps up on us and makes adventures impossible. 

Thanks have to go to two local historians Pascal Baudouin and Patrick Ricard, authors of Loubillé Cité des artistes, Dans le temps, for unravelling the story of Marffa la Corse and sharing the photographs.

Loubillé Cité des artistes
Pascal Baudouin et Patrick Ricard

Our last half dozen

Our last half dozen - RIP Brucie the goose

Our last half dozen – RIP Brucie the goose.

I was reading something the other day that said geese could live until they were 25 and as our Brucie had just started laying again, at the ripe old age of thirteen, I guessed she’d be roaming our orchard for a while yet. I was wrong. While we were out yesterday, a dog or a fox got into the garden and attacked and killed Brucie. I will spare you the details, but what was left was a gruesome sight. 

 

An orchard full of feathered friends was never in our French life plan, but sometimes in life it’s good to go with the flow. When a male Muscovy duck settled himself into our orchard in 2005, we bought him some female company. The ducks were joined by chickens, home-hatched ducklings had a habit of happening no matter how good I thought I was at collecting eggs, and then in May 2009, a mysterious bearded visitor left us a gosling. We named him Bruce and still have no idea who left him, or why, but we were very glad he did. Bruce spent the year thinking he was a duck, blissfully unaware of our plan to serve him as Christmas dinner. His saving grace was when ‘he’ began laying eggs, big and beautiful eggs - and we began to call her Brucie. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a goose egg, but they are roughly the size of three hen eggs, with a huge golden yolk and make the most amazing cakes, omelettes or rather indulgent dippy boiled eggs with soldiers.

 

We made the decision a while ago to downsize our farmyard family, so although all remaining birds would live out their years with us, when they were gone, we wouldn’t replace them. Brucie has now been living a quiet and solitary life for almost two years, but unlike the last of the ducks and chickens who died a peaceful death in old age, Brucie wasn’t ready to go. She had begun her spring laying and was happy and healthy. 

 

All of the birds were great characters and I never got tired of watching them scratching the soil, chasing a bug (or bigger), picking cherries from the low branches or just strutting around the garden. Only this week we smiled as we watched Brucie sitting in her water bowl, playing with a stick that was far too big to fit in with her. The garden seems rather empty and quiet out there today. She was a real chatterbox, always honking her accompaniment to the eight o’clock morning church bells and with one beady eye on the back door, ready to shout at me as I put my boots on. Today marks the first time we have been bird free since 2005 and it's going to take a bit of getting used to.

 

RIP Brucie and thank you for thirteen years of fun and delicious eggs. 

Brucie the goose 2009 - 2022

France Trivia Advent Calendar, day eighteen, les volailles de Bresse

Advent day 18 sparkling dry chardonnay and biere triple

Advent day eighteen, Friday 18^th December 2020

 

It is a week before Christmas and there was a lot to celebrate today, even the advent calendar seemed to be in tune with my mood, presenting me with a nice bottle of sparkling dry Chardonnay this morning. 

 

French Onion Tarte December recipe challenge

The first thing worth a mention is that I have successfully tamed the French Onion tarte and am delighted to report dinner last night was tasty, edible and with no soggy bottoms or uncooked pastry. It seems sticking to my favourite rectangle baking tin, rather than the round flan dish Hugh would have preferred I use, made all the difference. I will definitely be cooking this recipe again.

 

We enjoyed a little bit of normality this afternoon for the first time since lockdown began, meeting up with friends for a bike ride. It might have been fresh, but the sun did shine eventually and as we had a big (60) birthday to celebrate, we did our best with mulled wine, fizz, ginger liqueur, hot chocolate, cheese, dips, crisps, mincepies and cake. There were only six of us, and we stayed outdoors and kept sensible distances between us, but it felt like a real party with fun, laughter and face to face conversation. It is the little things like getting together with friends that we have been lacking this year and it felt so good today. 

At some point during our bike ride this afternoon I smashed the 5000-kilometre mark for this year on my bike, which is up by over one thousand five hundred kilometres on last year, even with over one hundred days in lockdown. I’m pretty pleased with that and will continue to keep pedalling, 2020 isn’t over just yet.

 

France Trivia advent calendar, day eighteen, les volailles de Bresse (Bresse poultry)

The chickens from Bresse in the east of France are so very French, with their red combs, pure white plumage and blue feet, and the quality of their meat has been celebrated by French gourmets for over two hundred years. A true Bresse bird must be raised in a specified geographical area, outdoors with access to grass and fed a strict diet of milk products and cereals. They must also reach at least four months old before being sent off to the butcher and the capons, castrated males, are raised for at least eight months. They really are the crème de la crème of the chicken world with their tender, meaty flesh that is free from antibiotics, hormones or chemicals. If you are looking for something a bit special in your chicken, maybe for a celebration meal, or for Christmas, try a bird from Bresse. 

Lockdown diaries, two weeks and counting

Shopping for leeks and onions on my bike

Day fourteen, Thursday 12^th November 2020

Shopping local

Today’s local shop by bike was one of two parts, moules from the Ile de Ré delivered fresh to the village and vegetables from Espoir Nature, an association based in one of our local hamlets. All we needed today were some onions and leeks, but one look at the produce on offer, and I’m sure we will buy more next time. 

Fresh vegetables from Espoir Nature

Their prices are comparable to the supermarkets and they have just started a weekly basket scheme where they have teamed up with other local producers. For 12.90€ they offer two options. The first is to select six items for your basket from a list that includes vegetables, herbs, fruits, eggs and cheese. The second option is for a recipe basket, where you get all the veggie ingredients and the recipe for a particular dish, and you just need to add the meat. Adrian couldn’t resist trying a jar of a locally produced pate as a treat this week, but next week I think I will be adding a local goat cheese to the order for my treat. If you are local, you can find more information on their website here.

Mixed basket

Recipe basket

 

The last three chickens enjoying the orchard in April

Au revoir to the last chicken

I have a bit of sad news. Yesterday we lost the last of the chickens to old age and although we do still have one old goose and one ancient duck, this is the first time in almost fifteen years that there hasn’t been at least one chicken roaming in our orchard. Keeping birds came about rather by accident when a male Muscovy duck took up residence in the orchard. We named him Yum Yum and bought him a hareem of six white females who he happily bonded with and they spent many happy years together. We sadly lost him at a great old age, to a broken heart, just days after the last of his white ladies died. 

 

Adrian had been reluctant at first to add chickens, but once we’d got used to having ducks, they seemed the obvious next step. Over the years many birds have come and gone, some naturally, some we lost to predators and some we were brave enough to serve at our table. This phase didn’t last long, but as meat eaters who were becoming increasingly concerned about where our meat was coming from, it felt right at the time. 

 

The chickens especially have always been great fun to sit and watch as they scratched and pecked around, with their heads down and bottoms in the air as they diligently searched the ground for any morsal. A quick call in the evenings and they would come running to me, and in the early days before we fenced off the potager, they would happily spend all day with me when I was out there weeding. Cherry picking was another of their favourite occupations, not just content to clear the windfalls, they would flap up to the lower branches and pick the tastiest of fruits from the tree, leaving their faces and combs stained an alarming deep purple. 

 

These last few years we have let their numbers dwindle naturally. As we went into the first lockdown in March, we still had three chickens, the duck and the goose, and although I will miss their antics and their eggs, it feels right not to replace them. Our lives have changed, and we have realised the more animals you have to look after, the more difficult it is to get away on the bikes.

Lockdown diaries, day eleven, buying local

Local free-range organic eggs

Day eleven, Monday 9^th November

I’ve had better starts to a Monday morning. There is nothing quite like the words “Mum, Mini (the dog) has been sick on my bed” to put me off my bowl of apple, walnut and cinnamon oats in the morning. On a positive note however, the dog had looked quite off-colour yesterday, but is much more herself today and the weather this morning was good enough to get the washing dry outside.

 

Buying local

It has now been a week since we used a car and although one of us will need to do a supermarket shop for things like dishwasher tablets, washing liquid and dog food, that aren’t the easiest of items to buy by bike, I’m determined to try and do as much fresh produce shopping from local producers as I can. As well as helping the local economy and reducing the carbon footprint of our food, it gives us a valid reason to get out on the bikes which is a bonus for our mental health. I’ve already identified two vegetable growers and a farm selling meat and homemade sausages, all within ten kilometres from home. 

Buying local

Today’s local shop was a bike ride to get eggs from the organic, free-range egg farm three kilometres from the village. A weekly visit here has become routine for us this year since our three old birds are no longer laying. Last week’s dozen contained a double-yolk egg and going by the size of one of them, this week we might be lucky again, although I can’t help feeling for the chicken that laid it. As well as eggs at 2.50€ a dozen, you can now also buy local honey, which I will be doing once we’ve finished the current pot. We all take a teaspoon of honey every day, so having access to a locally produced one is great news. Honey has many benefits to the immune system including antioxidant, anti-inflammatory and antibacterial properties and I want our bodies to be as ready as they can be to fight off any virus or bacterial infections this winter. 

 

Local honey

Sadly, our area of France is one of forty-six French departments that has been put on raised alert for avian flu. It is migration season and in order to reduce the risk of the wild birds infecting poultry, all birds that are normally allowed access to the outdoors must be shut inside or be protected by netting. This not only affects the larger producers like the one in our village, but individuals with a few backyard birds like us too. Chatting to the farmer this morning, she assured me she would be bringing in as many ‘toys’ as she could, including straw bales for her girls to climb on, so they don’t get bored.

 

The French Village Diaries 2020 new header

Blog updates

With no course to run this week and only the decorating to carry on with, I thought Adrian needed a new project to keep him from getting bored too. It has been over two years since I changed the blog header, so I felt the time was right to update the pictures and make a few changes to the layout. I love the new design he has created for me and hope you do too.

Birds have feelings too

This week we lost a chicken. Hermione had been living a happy, free range life in our orchard for over four years and died in a peaceful way. While we will miss her and her eggs, her passing is not something I was planning on writing about until a strange thing occurred in the barn.

This year we have had no shortage of either chicken or duck eggs and it has been months since we had an eggless day, until this week. The day after Hermione died no one laid an egg. Whether in shock, mourning or as a mark of respect I have no idea, but it reminded me of a sad event many years ago.

We begun keeping birds by accident when a male Muscovy duck arrived in our orchard and decided to stay. We named him Yum Yum and bought him some white lady ducks for company and began enjoying their eggs. Over the years ducks came and went, but Yum Yum and one of these white ladies, Dirty Beak, remained together. When Dirty Beak died of old age Yum Yum just gave up on life and within a week had died too. He obviously missed her and it was heartbreaking to watch. We realised then that ducks are a family and have feelings, and it seems that chickens do too.

Hermione

La Foire de Javarzay, Chef Boutonne

Romanesque Church Javarzy, Chef Boutonne

Today in Javarzay, part of our local town of Chef Boutonne roads were closed, some shops too and everyone was out in the streets to celebrate the annual Foire de Javarzay (fête). This is something that has occurred every year on 26^th of June since 1821 and began as the annual goose fair (or foire aux pirons – pirons is the local patois for goose or oies in French). Today it is more a general street market, although first thing in the morning you can still buy chickens, ducks, geese, guinea fowl and quail under the shadow of the Romanesque church in Javarzay. Although the market is only there for one day there is also a funfair and beer and restaurant tents that have been there for a few days with a firework celebration bringing it to a close tomorrow evening. It is looked forward to by young and old, especially as the children all get a free ride token for the fair given out at school (this is both a lovely gesture and great marketing policy!). We were amused to see a number of older folks, heavily clad in nylon, meeting with friends for a drink and walking around the funfair. We weren’t sure if they were planning on going on the rides, or rather just enjoying a spot of conviviality, sunshine and watching the younger generation having a great afternoon. It certainly seemed the tradition of attending the fair is still alive and well.

Time to get your ducks and geese for Christmas

The market in Javarzay

The thing that always sparks my curiosity is the eel man. He is there every year with his box of live eels that are for sale at 19.90€ a kilo or his barbecued eels at 36€ a kilo. He takes the eels carefully with a pair of tongs, whacks them over the head a couple of times and places them on the hot coals, fresh they most certainly are and they smell delicious. However I have never eaten eels, are they fishy or meaty? Do they contain lots of small, fiddly bones or just one big backbone? I would love to try them, but I haven’t yet been brave enough – I certainly don’t need (or rather can’t afford) a kilo of cooked eels. We did sample many lovely cheeses, hams and saucisson, with some favourites from the Auvergne coming home to join us for aperos.

Fresh eels

Cooked eels

First signs of summer and summer visitors

This week officially marked the start of our summer guest season when Toffee the Terrier and his pet chicken Mrs Beeton arrived for a ten day holiday. Toffee visits a couple of times during the year and fits in very well to our daily life. He has his favourite spot by the front door where he has easy access to the cat flap - so he can poke his head out to check what is going on and he and Mini get along fine, by playing the 'I'm ignoring you' game. This is, however, the first time he has bought his chicken along too. Mrs Beeton has been a naughty chicken, a bossy boots who has been picking on the other chickens and young ducks she lives with. Fearing for their flock during their absence, our friends thought it wise to remove her and so she arrived with Toffee for the duration of their holiday. I am guessing that poor Mrs Beeton has already regretted her actions, for despite being the big boss of her flock she is most definitely the smallest bird here, so has been put in her place. She does seem to quite enjoy wandering in the cherry orchard though which makes her reluctant to come in over night and gives me the opportunity to play chase the chicken through the nettles every evening.

Toffee

Mrs Beeton

We will have a few days between Toffee and Mrs Beeton leaving before another one of Mini's doggy boyfriends, Dexter, arrives for a long weekend. We will barely have had time to say goodbye to Dexter before leaving to collect Mum and Dad for their ten day visit in early July, which also marks the start of Ed's two month school holiday. Ed will travel back to UK with Mum and Dad, giving him three weeks without his nagging parents and us some time to be a couple! We have lots of cycling plans for our summer, including a couple of days away from the animals and out with the bikes. Thankfully we have a reciprocal animal sitting arrangement with our local friends.

Other signs that summer is here is the return of the strikes. This week has seen some major delays on air traffic to, from and travelling through French air space and today some of the rail unions are on strike. As I write this I have no idea whether Ade will make it home this evening from Brussels but I'm keeping all my fingers crossed as he has been away since Sunday and leaves again this Sunday, so it would be nice to see him soon! Although I don't think he would have been too happy with the weather today as it was not very summery at all. I think I got wetter out cherry picking in the rain than I did in the shower this morning. While the chickens, including Mrs Beeton, sheltered under the trees the rain dripped off the leaves, ran down my arms and neck and splashed in my eyes. Not sure I have ever picked cherries wearing wellies and a rain coat before, and I hope I don't have to again.

Please note, during the summer months my normal blogging routine may become slightly erratic as life takes over, thank you.

Silent Sunday

It feels like it has been raining forever, but as I look back over our photos from the week it doesn't seem to have been that bad and we even had lunch in the garden, once!

Best thing about this time of year is seeds.

Our new girls finally brave enough to enjoy the orchard

February lunch in the garden

Homemade pile of compost

Mini's friend Dexter comes to stay

Good boy Dexter

Willow knows just how to get comfy and keep warm

Rouillac Market

In the local town of Rouillac, nestled in amongst the Cognac vineyards, the 27^th of each month is an important date. For on the 27^th, whether it falls on a weekday or weekend and come rain or shine, the whole town becomes a huge market place. This tradition goes back over two hundred years and is likely to have originally been a horse-trading market. Rouillac is situated both on the Voie Agrippa, an ancient east/west route across France linking Lyon with Saintes, and also an important trade route between Brittany and Spain. People still come from miles around (it is BIG in the local calendar) and one of the main attractions now is the poultry, although there are still a few horse sales too as well as everything else you would expect to find at a French market.

Mucky ducks at Rouillac Market www.frenchvillagediaries.com

For some time now I have wanted grey speckled hens and with Ade’s permission (he keeps a very tight control over my animal purchases) that was my goal and the search was on. Those seriously looking for a bargain are there very early, but on a cold, wet Sunday we decided a mid morning outing was a better idea, so set off after a coffee and croissant breakfast. The drive down was grey and damp, the Cognac vines, some neatly pruned some still scruffy and twiggy looked bare and wintry. A quick tour around the poultry stands and we found our girls. Wanting 2 or 3 grey speckled hens fate led us to the only stand offering a discount for buying 3 birds, and they just happened to be grey speckled birds – sold to the short lady in mauve! To top it all the weather was dry for our wander around the market where we could have been tempted by all sorts from day old ducklings, to strings of garlic, to huge turkeys (alive), to fish (dead), to sausage and chips (hot) to locally grown kiwi fruits. We did scoop up a bargain on the kiwis as they are full of vitamin C and make a great winter breakfast smoothie with a banana and some natural yoghurt.

Fifty, Phyl and Kirstie

The new girls, Fifty (the light grey one), Kirstie (the bold, bossy speckled one) and Phyl (the other one) are settling in well, they haven’t met the others yet, but I hope they will enjoy their free range life in our orchard very soon (and lay us lots of eggs).

Eggs, all sizes, all colours at Rouillac Market

Fish at Rouillac Market

Garlic at Rouillac Market

Our purchases from Rouillac Market

Heading into the Darker Months

December has arrived and we are well and truly heading into the darker months, not my favourite time of year, but at least we were able to spend this afternoon out in the garden.  While Ade put the delicate plants to bed for the winter, wrapping them in fleece or bringing them under cover I did some leaf raking.  Although we have lots of trees we don't actually have too much raking, as most of the small leaves from the fruit trees just seem to disappear with the wind.  The leaves from the ginkgo biloba, cherry (5 trees) and walnut (2 trees) however do require raking up. 

Most of the trees are now bare and the leaves a soggy mush underfoot, but as damp leaves break down much quicker the conditions were perfect.  There is nothing like a garden workout to lift the mood and the smell of damp walnut leaves is quite intoxicating.  The chickens were their usual helpful selves, always under my feet ready to pounce on anything edible that I uncovered as I raked and piled the leaves up.  More helpful than the chickens is my Yeoman Hand Held Leaf Collector, bought for us one Christmas a few years ago and still appreciated (one of those presents that just keeps on giving).  With their help I am now the proud owner of a heap of leaves almost as tall as I am and by next year they will have rotted down and be great for the potager.

After a couple of hours work the orchard was looking much better, I’d even seen signs of next years orchids, and it was time to return to the kitchen where a warm mulled wine was waiting for me.  Now to serve the chicken and pumpkin the slow cooker has been busy cooking all day.

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