Since I was a child, I was scared about the haxes’s* stories, the name of the witches here (Hexen in German)!
They haunt my childhood village, the surrounding woods and above the collar a few hundred meters away.
Because our ancesters were burned at Perheux.
This truly magnificent place today was primarily functional in the past. Cross communication between two valleys, it was also a place of pagan pilgrimage before becoming a Christian and now forgotten (to the Belmont Chapel). It was customary for pilgrims to throw silver coins on the way (we will come back) to redeem the condemned souls.
And yes … since the Middle Ages to the Renaissance, the crossroads of the valleys was the site of executions.
Found in various archives case. In the early sixteenth century, a court presided over by Justice meyger united village Waldersbach in order to judge the current business. The court consisted of six to seven aldermen to which were added three other Saint-Blaise and Blancherupt. The meyger St. Blaise appeared dressed half red, half white. If a criminal had before it was delivered to the lord who locked him in the castle of Guirbaden before judging it, run it and expose it on the wheel at the place of justice at the neck of the Perheux1.
In 1613 mentioned the case of Anne, the wife of Steffen from Above (Steffen von der Höhe) Neuviller, which is burned for witchcraft. Then from 1620 until 1630 were condemned and burned instead of justice of the Col de la Perheux.
More than 50 women from around was execute for “witch crimes”.
The men, when with them, were not burned, but buried up to the neck and left ainsi2 and spawned the legend of the “treasure crying” (the treasure would have been pieces of pilgrims and screaming, those convicted) . The executions took place until 1786, the pyres and burial eventually replaced the wheel (running Staller François October 15, 1767). Executions then in the past, the treasure was gradually picked up.
Yet … the screams still persist, and teenagers, we loved camping at the neck to scare us!
And although I’ve never heard cries, I always believed in witches of Perheux, returning to crack walls and roofs, in search of souls to pervert.