The Sad Case of Ramoncito Gonzales

Two posts back Laws of Silence ended with a synopsis of the story of Ramoncito Gonzales, a young boy brutally murdered by a person or persons unknown in such a way as to suggest an occult or ritual murder. According to a local newspaper, police are moving away from the theory that the murder had to do with "Satanic rites" and focusing instead on the no less shocking but less sensational underworld of child prostitution and exploitation.

The fate of the two women arrested, mentioned in our previous post, remains unclear from subsequent articles related to the case, but it would appear that more arrests have been made since the beginning of August.

It is also clear that strong pressure to resolve the case is leading to perhaps hasty arrests and wild speculations which only add to an atmosphere of fear and confusion.

In any event, those who know some Spanish might be interested in checking out the Mi Mercedes website, which is following the case closely.

One of the articles links to a blurb about the celebration of Ramón Nonato on his feast day, 31 August. St. Raymond (1204-1240) is the patron of pregnant woman, childbirth, children and the unborn. "He is also a patron of secrecy and anonymity, and a protector against slander and captivity. His name means "not born" and comes from his own entry into the world: his mother having died during labor, he was delivered by from her dead womb. "Cut out of her dead body in a spontaneous emergency operation performed by the Viscount of Cardona with a dagger he carried in his belt" according to Fausto's Art Gallery in Ojinaga, Chihuahua. He became a Mercedarian monk, working for the release of Christian prisoners held by the Moors. He was sent to Algeria in this capacity and at one point he traded himself for a prisoner. According to Wikipedia:

"He suffered in captivity. A legend states that the Moors bored a hole through his lips with a hot iron, and padlocked his mouth to prevent him from preaching. He was ransomed by his order and in 1239 returned to Spain."

Although his cult was reduced in status in 1969, he's apparently becoming more important again as a Church tool against abortion; he remains especially popular in Latin America and appears to be well-known in New Mexico as well.

Mexican believers pray to him in order to silence malicious gossips. A red candle is lit by a votive image of the saint, which is then "silenced" by means of a coin affixed over the saint's mouth while prayers are recited.

In any event, he may have suffered like his namesake in Mercedes, but he seems to have been sleeping on the job when the poor little fellow needed him most. He might be pretty busy these days, however; with the demand for arrests and justice mounting, many people might be asking for help with any number of his various specialities, falsely and legitimately accused alike.

Sacred Waters

How we take care of the water is how it will take care of us

– Eddie Benton Benais, Grand Chief of the Mdewiwin (Medicine) Society, Anishinabe spiritual elder

“She keeps men faithful to their wives and will judge and kill men who violate the sanctity of marriage if called upon to do so, because her husband was unfaithful to her, causing her to commit suicide, and to hate and punish all unfaithful men.” So writes Cat Yronwode on Santisima Muerte, going on to note similarities with La Llorona, ghostly haunt of the North American southwest. The tales of La Llorona are wideflung and varied, adopted to regional cultures and landscapes. “At any rate,” Wikipedia noting the common thread that strings these tales together, “La Llorona chooses to murder her children, almost always by drowning, either to spare them a life of poverty, to free herself to seek another man, or for revenge against their absent or stray father.”

This turned our minds to the tale of Ampato Sapa—whose name is Dakotan for “Dark Day”:

“A young Indian woman sat in a little canoe with her two small children, and rowed it out into the river in the direction of the falls [...] She sang in lamenting tones the sorrow of her heart, of her husband's infidelity, and her determination to die. [...] Her voice was soon silenced in the roar of the fall. The boat paused for a moment on the brink of the precipice, and the next was carried over it and vanished in the foaming deep. The mother and her children were seen no more. The Indians still believe that in the early dawn may be heard the lamenting song deploring the infidelity of the husband; and they fancy that at times may be seen the mother, with the children clasped to her breast, in the misty shapes which arise from the fall around the Spirit Island.”

Today these falls—the only on the upper Mississippi river—lay in the heart of Minneapolis, but numerous native traditions imbue this region with Geomantic sacredness. Let your imagination flow with Sapa’s spirit downstream: After crashing over the falls, home to Oanktehi, a Dakotan god of waters and evil, you gust past Spirit Island, where legend has it that Dakotan women came to give birth; a few miles tumble by rushed before the rapids slowly subside as the bluffs rise above you; a few lazy miles further and you feel Minnehaha’s cold splashing into the river; Minnehaha Falls, revered as “a sacred place, a neutral place, a place for many nations to come,” babbles through the hills on your right, hidden by trees and terrain; floating on another mile or two, you carve through a deep river gorge and far overhead flows Cold Water Springs “from which the sacred water should be drawn”; you spin, sailing by Pilot Knob, “considered to be the center of the world by the Dakota,” curving sharply as the Minnesota River (“Mdote Minisota”) confluence shoves the powerful Mississippi northwest; crossing into modern-day St. Paul you drift a few miles further, passing Carver’s Cavern (now gone, destroyed for a railroad), where the Dakotans held tribal councils, their burial grounds soaring above you on Dayton’s Bluffs.

Jump forward in time and the first white face on the scene adds a new sacred tie: Father Hennepin, Franciscan explorer, christened the falls St. Anthony after his patron saint Anthony of Padua, “Hammer of Heretics,” bilocationist, and finder of things lost. (Ampato Sapa knew the falls as Minirara, or “curling water.”) As time marches forward, the city of Minneapolis slowly erects itself around Minirara, harnessing the fall’s power to drive sawmills, textile plants, and grain mills; progressively taming the falls with locks, dams, skirts, and bridges; and eventually obliterating Spirit Island in the process of civilizing Old Man River.

Pause for a second. Consider the drownings of La Llorana and Ampato Sapa, the sacredness of water across so many cultures, and the theme of revenge. Faithful readers will recall that recently, while reporting on Gargantuan (who “lived at the bottom of a well where people came to throw stones at him, hitting him in the head”), we told of “a young woman, a bread maker, [who] once went to a sacred fountain to get water for her dough and as she lifted the bucket the water turned to blood.”

“Folklore has it that sacred water used for profane purposes leads to punishment and pollution of water,” we wrote, asking, “was she the last remnant of a pagan culture?”

We found our answer in an echo. Check this out: “A Minneapolis city employee got a gruesome surprise as he was cleaning the city's sewer line. A manhole near a medical laboratory began spraying human and animal blood into the face and mouth of Ron Huebner […] ‘Blood just all over my face, in my mouth, I could taste it. It was terrible. I had it in my mouth and I kept spitting and I couldn't get rid of it’.”

The Associated Press goes on to report that “the Metropolitan Council, has confirmed that the blood was indeed a combination of both animal and human matter […and that] nearly fifty different organizations possess permits allowing them to dispose of those kinds of wastes.”

Just to recap: That’s human blood, dumped by permit into the Mighty Mississippi, just upstream from Oanktehi’s sacred home in Minirara Falls (now both dammed and sainted) where Ampato Sapa killed herself and her children before haunting Spirit Island (obliterated by engineers), a few miles up river from the Dakotan tribal council caverns (sheered away for a rail road) and burial grounds (now a city park).

July 26, approximately four months following the bloody baptism, a storm raged in drought-ridden Minneapolis. A crew repairing the sewer fled to the surface for their lives. Two didn’t make it out alive; their drowned bodies washed into the Mississippi.

Six days later, the interstate 35 W bridge, spanning the river a few blocks south of the falls, collapsed: Cars, rebar, people, concrete strew into the river; thirteen killed, a hundred more injured. A “main artery,” President Bush said. Severed. Curiously, few seem to have noticed that another artery has also been severed: River traffic, barges, no longer course through the heart of Minneapolis, blocked by the ruins—though the water continues to flow, churning through her breast.

Love, too, courses through the heart. Sever this artery, and answer to La Llorona—a familiar tale of coursing love, broken promises and broken hearts, and appeals for revenge. La Llorona—“the weeping”: Vengeful saint for the jilted; her tears continue to flow.

Folk Heroes and the Cults of Death

Only a post or so ago Laws of Silence linked to a Washington Post article about Jesus Malverde, a folk saint of northern Mexico whose cult has made its way into the teeming capital city. Malverde was a dark and handsome man, or so it is said, who was either a construction worker or railway man. During the anarchy which preceded the Mexican Revolution in 1910, he is said to have become a bandit, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor. Then he was captured and again, reports differ, but he was either shot or hung. Some accounts give this martyrdom an especially New Testament spin by adding he was betrayed by a friend for a reward. Today he's treated as a full-fledged saint, his shrine attracts thousands yearly and healings have been attributed to him. The Vatican recognizes none of this but no matter, his cult is firmly entrenched anyway. The Post article describes a family shrine in a poor neighborhood of Mexico City, where Malverde is posed with "La Santísima Muerte", patroness of death. The scene described is macabre and the two make a sort of holy couple, he dressed in a stylish cowboy hat and sporting a thick mustache, she dressed as the blushing bride, her skeletal hand clutching a scythe!

Jump a few thousand kilometers south to Argentina. Gauchito Gil was a farmhand born in the 1840's in the region of Corrientes. A handsome young man, he fell in love with a wealthy widow. They may have had an affair. When a rival, who happened to be the local police chief, heard of this affair he conspired to have Gil arrested. Gil fled to the army, where he fought against neighboring Paraguay. He returned a hero and was temporarily shielded, but was pressed back into service in the Argentine Civil War.

By this time Gil was tired of the fighting and he deserted. When the police finally caught up with him he was tortured and strung up by his heels from a tree. As one of their number approached to kill Gil, Gil told him that he knew the man's son was dying, but if he prayed to him (Gil), his dying son would be spared. The cop then slit his throat.

The policeman, however, could not let the condemned man's words rest, and he prayed for Gil's intercession. The dying son recovered. The policeman, grateful, decided to give Gil a proper burial, build a shrine in his memory and spread the word of the miracle. (Alternate details of the legend can be found here.)

The story is strikingly similar to that of Malverde. A poor yet virile and honorable man lives outside the law, becoming a hero to the marginal and suffers death for it. Like Malverde, Gil's cult is fervent among the poor and thousands flock to his shrine near Mercedes (Corrientes) each year, especially on January 8th, the day of his "martyrdom." Also like Malverde, the Church has given no official recognition to this cult.

Corrientes is home to many beliefs which are not officially recognized by the Church. Another regional folk saint honors death. Again, like Malverde, one can also find Gil side by side with San La Muerte or the Señor de la Muerte.

The cult of Señor de la Muerte or San La Muerte is very widespread in Corrientes. Just as the cult of Jesus Malverde spread to the capital city from the north, Gauchito Gil and San La Muerte have ended up in Buenos Aires. This website, if you can read Spanish or not, is guaranteed to intrigue. All of it seems so exotic, but to the practitioners, there is no conflict with this cult and Catholicism. They are simply celebrating another saint, morbid though it may be. The Protestants are trying to chip away at these beliefs as they are everywhere else in Latin America; in the process, they've left some interesting photos and descriptions.

What is intriguing is that in Mexico and Argentina we find nearly identical stories of a common man, virile and mustachioed, struck down by the Man and resurrected as a folk saint. Their stories are essentially the same and both are found side by side with Holy Death.

San La Muerte, unfortunately, is not simply colorful regional charm to blog about blythely. While surely not representative of the cult in any wider sense, some authorities in Corrientes suspect it had a part to play in the gruesome ritual murder of a 12-year-old boy.

The following account of this gruesome story comes from a report by Argentina's Pagina 12.

Ramoncito was the child of a poor woman who became a prostitute to support her family. He himself was eventually drawn into the world of child prostitution, still managing to go to school. In fact he was last seen leaving his school, on October 6, 2006. He was found the following day, dressed only in shorts. His head had been placed by his left shoulder.

Forensics reports state that he was beheaded with a sharp knife from left to right. As the beheading began, the boy was alive. The boy had cigarette burns on his hips, arms and the palms of his hands. A deep cut under his left buttock was found. His blood had been drained and the third to seventh cervical vertebrae had been removed.

Early in the case, the authorities thought they had found the murderers, suspected practioners of kimbanda among them. They were released in June as there was insufficient reason to hold them further. Then, in mid-July two women were arrested after a search revealed traces of human blood on the walls in one of the women's houses, located in the slaughterhouse district of Mercedes. They were both practitioners of a mish-mash of Christianity, kimbanda, various Afro-Brazilian practices, spiritualism and especially devoted to the Corrientes version of Señor La Muerte.

The judicial hypothesis is that the boy was a sacrifice in the death cult. "....Finding the body at a crossroads of street and avenue, the trunk and the feet pointing northeast. The position of the skull, that had been removed by somebody with certain knowledge. And mainly the fact the blood had been used for something, that we did not find any blood in the body makes us think this is a ritual crime" said a source familiar with the case to Pagina 12.

The family's lawyer, though appreciative of police efforts, said that "we cannot think there is much more behind this." Sources at the prosecutor's office admit that another line to follow is the "drugs" theory, though there is nothing concrete beyond the idea that the participants may have used drugs when they participated in the "sacrifice."

Jose Humberto Miceli, an ethnographer studying new religious movements since 1985, believes that to find an explanation of the crime one must look to the cult of Señor de la Muerte. Formerly he is said to have consumed blood symbolically because if not he would dry up. The missing vertebrae are also important. "Normally they [his devotees] robbed these from cemeteries," said Miceli, "and made talismans from them or with the scrapings of these, made ointments. It is the magico-religious tradition of Corrientes."

If it does prove to be the case that a perverted devotion to San La Muerte is behind this sad story, there is no reason the tar the entire belief system. The murderers are exceptional not only in their cruelty but in murdering someone at all. In the last century, this would be the first muder directly linked to the worship of San La Muerte. It's not the cult which should be eradicated, but the grinding poverty and degradation that compelled a mother and her son into prostitution in order to survive, and led the child directly into the hands of a savage and unconscionable death.

"The Eagle of the Arabs"

Saddam Hussein's burial place, in his native village on the banks of the Tigris, may be the only public space in Iraq where the former ruler, hanged in December at the age of 69, is openly extolled. Under a decree dating from the American occupation in 2003, still in force under the new Iraqi government, all paintings, photographs and statues of Mr. Hussein are forbidden, as are public protests in his support. At least in terms of public hagiography, he remains, everywhere else in Iraq, a nonperson.

Interesting NYT article about the shrine to Saddam erected by his family in Awja. Reporter John F. Burns seems to be sporting a heavy set of brass balls.

The Golden Legend of St. Fris

Onward, Christian Soldier 

According to legend, St. Fris was the son of the Frisian King Rabbod and a nephew of Charles Martel. In 732, he was ordered to follow the retreat of the Moorish army led by Abd el-Rhaman after the latter was defeated at Poitiers. The Saracens defeated the Franks at Lupiac, but Fris caught up with his quarry once again at the plateau of l’Étendard[1] just outside the present-day village of Bassoues in the Gers department. In the ensuing battle, Fris rallied his troops by planting his cross-bearing standard into the ground, (very sexy), but for him the victory was not to be sweet. Fris was struck by an arrow and his frightened horse bolted, carrying him to the banks of the stream called the Guiroe, where he died. His troops found his body and buried him on the spot. Although his deeds were remembered, his final resting place was to be forgotten.

Two hundred years later a herdsman frequently grazed his herd on this hill, unknowing. Over time he became puzzled by a cow which always stood alone, never eating, yet remained among the best-looking animals in his herd. Then one day he noticed it licking a boulder. He was perplexed and investigated; scratching at the stone, he revealed a sarcophagus which proved to hold a man's body inside, perfectly intact, laid to rest with his armor and his weapons. At this very instant a fountain sprung up on the spot. News of this miracle spread, and the townspeople came to wonder at the water flowing up from around a dead man’s body. Soon afterwards several miraculous cures ensued. It was thus decided that a basilica should be constructed to house the remains of Saint Fris, but upon its completion, even the most powerful oxen were unable to transport the sarcophagus. The peasant thus hitched his young cow and thence transported the sarcophagus with ease. 

(basic details of the legend from the Dossier de Presse Comptes et Légendes and the website of Bassoues) 

Pagan Predecessors, Christian Corrollaries 

Denise Homerin links St. Fris to several pagan deities prominent in this part of the Gers long before and well into the Christian era.[2] The first of these was Mars. The ancient forest of Marsoulès is one of many places in the region that still bears his name. St. Fris himself is of obvious Martian, that is to say martial, significance. First and foremost he is a warrior, pictured in armor and carrying a sword. His colors of red and gold are also those of Mars, as is his title; he is Astra d’or, the Star of Gold. The horse upon which he is often depicted also echoes the iconography of Mars. According to the 1911 Encyclopedia Britannica regarding Mars:

We know little of the character of his cult except at Rome, and even at Rome it has been variously interpreted. He has been explained as a sun-god, a god of wind and storm, a god of the year and a god of vegetation; and he has been compared with Apollo by Roscher (Apollo, and Mars, 1873, and in the article "Mars" in his Lexicon of Mythology). But in historical times his chief function at Rome was to protect the state in war, and it is as a god of war that he is known to all readers of Roman literature.

It is also worth noting that St. Fris bears significant symbolic ties to San Jacques de Compostela, who in some traditions is known as Santiago Matamoros, or "Moor-Slayer" after his apparition at the battle of Clavijo in 844, a mere century after the death of St. Fris. As Matamoros, Saint Jacques is often depicted on horseback, with sword and armor and wearing a red cape. In short, the same iconography as St. Fris and Mars.

The body of St. Fris was found on January 16, 10 days after Epiphany, which in Orthodox traditions lasts until January 18. Epiphany celebrates the “shining forth” of Jesus; it is the twelfth day of Christmas, which itself corresponds roughly to the winter solstice. His iconography thus also reflects that of the unvanquished Sun, Sol Invictus. Other aspects are like those of Apollo-Belenos (“Bel” is found in many local place names). This incarnation of Apollo was a god of the air, a celestial god of light, emphasizing the fertile and curative virtues of the sun.

An analysis of place names along local pilgrimage routes that pass Bassoues on the way to Compostela also links St. Fris to giants, specifically the divine force later personified by Rabelais as Gargantua. Gargantua, is a character which derives from various French oral traditions dating back to the time of the Celts.[3] Originally he was a divinity or a kind of beneficial primordial force personified as a giant bringing order out of chaos. In the wake of his passage, his feet left hills and depressions; where he rested became natural rock formations. He was even responsible for rivers created by answering nature's call. In short, he represented the telluric forces which created natural landscapes. To this day many place names and mountains all over France bear names which derive from his various Celtic appellations. Perhaps more importantly to our story is that his was sometimes a solar myth.

Many of the megaliths and cromlechs found throughout France are described as his furniture. These places are often linked to the earth’s fecundity and indeed, Gargantua’s phallus was quite celebrated. Like the fairies (Morgan la Fey was his godmother) he was capable of transforming himself into many forms, especially that of a dragon, long recognized to be a phallic and masculine symbol. In the Christian era his cult was transformed; St Gorgon, for example, took his place as a patron of fecundity.

According to one legend “Gargantua” lived at the bottom of a well where people came to throw stones at him, hitting him in the head. Does the discovery of St. Fris echo these legends, found as he was surrounded by stone from which a sacred spring miraculously issued? His head was later placed as a relic in nearby Peyrusse Grande.

An ancient burial rite for millers placed the corpse in its tomb with a circle of stones about the head, the stones presumably a reference to the millstone which made his trade possible. Another legend has it that a young woman, a bread maker, once went to a sacred fountain to get water for her dough and as she lifted the bucket the water turned to blood. Folklore has it that sacred water used for profane purposes leads to punishment and pollution of water. Was she the last remnant of a pagan culture?

The Mother Goddess or Magna Mater was also very prominent in the area. We have already noted the similarity of St. Fris legend to that of Marial legends: discovery by a cow or ox, the association with the earth and especially life-giving waters. In addition to the discovery of Saint Fris, at Bassoues there is a long tradition of cows with horns in the form of crescent moons, a conspicuous symbol of the Virgin Mary, whose abundant syncretic capacities have been well-established in scholarly literature.

Homerin also links St. Fris to another curious local legend of the seven cows of gold. The story goes as follows. As rich as the earth itself, a King gave freely to friends and poor alike, who all assured him they would walk through heaven and earth for him as a result of his generosity. 

One day, a tearful young man came to the King to ask for alms in order to grieve for his mistress and to pay to have a mass sung in her honor. This was granted and the deeds were done. The young man returned to the palace to place himself in the service of the king, where he became known as the Black Valet. When he noticed that the King's fortune was falling to a dangerously low level, he warned the King that he would soon be penniless. But the King continued to give generously to his friends. 

As his fortunes continued to diminish, the King's friends accused the Valet of being a thief. But the King continued to spread his largess until he was destitute. The Valet’s predictions had come to pass and the impoverished King found that his "friends" had disappeared. But the King had been planning to reside in another palace he had built, and thence he repaired in the company of the Black Valet. There the King revealed a secret ritual to the Valet that would ensure the opulence of the Kingdom. He made a flute from a cut reed during the last night of the year [That is to say, during Epiphany] and taught the Valet how to play it. Then at Midsummer’s day [June 24th, day of St. Jean], they both went to the banks of the Gers. At midnight and at the sound of the flute, seven golden cows appeared, ready to be milked. Their milk transformed into gold coins which were then thrown into the river. When the King died a year later, the Valet inherited his kingdom as a wealthy man. 

A herald announced that the inhabitants would have a share of this wealth and the new King set off for the land where his master was buried. He learned Latin, became a monk, and had a monastery built where prayers were held day and night for the Prince of the seven golden cows. 

(This account is based on Le prince des sept vaches d’or by Jungian Psychologist Lorraine Dupont.)

The legend of the golden cows tells us many things. It is based upon the Biblical account of Pharaoh’s dreams. Genesis 41:1-4 reads:

When two full years had passed, Pharaoh had a dream: He was standing by the Nile, when out of the river there came up seven cows, sleek and fat, and they grazed among the reeds. After them, seven other cows, ugly and gaunt, came up out of the Nile and stood beside those on the riverbank. And the cows that were ugly and gaunt ate up the seven sleek, fat cows. Then Pharaoh woke up.

The links to St. Fris are also clear. The gold coins in the legend were submerged in water the on Midsummer’s Day, the 24^th of June, the day that the sarcophagus of St. Fris was interred. The day the reed flute which calls the cows forth was created on the last night of the year, during Epiphany, when St. Fris was discovered. St. Fris is connected with solar divinities such as Mars, Sol Invictus, Apollo, and the Celtic force later personified as Gargantua. He has also been linked to Mary. 

Legend has it that cows often attract shepherds to statues of the Virgin, especially Black Virgins. Recall the Black Valet who with the King’s secret brought back wealth from penury, or life from death. Cows also attracted people to St. Fris, who then functioned as both solar agent and life-giving spring. Water and sun. Beginning a slow death at Midsummer and shaking off death beginning at Yuletide. As above, so below, as they say.

Recall old St. Jacques de Compostela, man of the seashell. He too was placed on a stone which became sacred; when his corpse was laid upon it he sank into the stone. Mother Earth had taken him back, temporarily, into the womb. His casket, then, was in fact a crib, a symbol of resurrection. The cow licking the stone where St. Fris was found in his sarcophagus was acting like a cow aiding the birth of a calf, licking away the afterbirth. The sun appears vanquished in the west, but rises in the east above the fountain six months after the immersion of the coins and the corpse on St. Jean's Day, that is to say the time of Epiphany. Brought forth by a cow with crescent horns and a fertile mother. 

At Rouffignac, men used to go in wagons drawn by oxen to the tomb of the giant Gargantua. Sometimes he awoke and swallowed the cows! At l’Etendard hill the men likewise came in oxen-drawn wagons to carry the body of St. Fris to a new location, but they couldn't move the body.  Not any old cow or goddess would do. When the young herdsman who had discovered the tomb hitched his heifer to the sarcophagus, he affixed a statue of the Virgin to his cart. She was dressed in funerary garb, but she represented a kind of birth, a birth indistinguishable from its own future resurrection. She brought St. Fris forth during Epiphany, when she brought the Son forth, and, to hack into an old Star Trek episode, the Sun as well. For it is at this point the sun starts to come back from the dead. And on St. John's Day, when St. Fris died, and the coins of the Golden Cows were put into the river, the sun begins its downward descent. 

But, like the coins and the Kingdom, the Sun is reborn, and of course Jesus returns. It's telling that the literal instrument—the flute—which calls the cows forth was made during Epiphany.

St. Fris is essentially a stand-in for the Virgin. When St. Mary's Cathedral was dedicated at Auch, St. Fris’ relics were brought along for the ceremony. The altar at the St. Fris chapel therein includes a statue of the Virgin more recent that that of St. Fris.  The village fête of Bassoues is on September 8, the day of the Nativity of the Virgin. On 15 August, Assumption, there is a procession to l’Étendard where hymns are sung to the Virgin.

---

[1] Translates to “standard” or “banner” 

[2] The remainder of this text is a summary of her article A l'aube de l'Europe, un saint friso-gascon : la légende dorée de saint Fris de Bassoues. (2[ème] partie) ; Bulletin de la Société de mythologie française ; 1999, n^o195, pp. 17-28 

[3] The name Gargantua, however is a Rabelaisian invention; there is no record of it anywhere before him.