Lady Mary was young, and Lady Mary was fair. She had two brothers, and more lovers than she could count. But of them all, the bravest and most gallant, was a Mr. Fox, whom she met when she was down at her father’s country-house. No one knew who Mr. Fox was; but he was certainly brave, and surely rich, and of all her lovers, Lady Mary cared for him alone. At last it was agreed upon between them that they should be married. Lady Mary asked Mr. Fox where they should live, and he described to her his castle, and where it was; but, strange to say, did not ask her, or her brothers to come and see it.
So one day, near the wedding-day, when her brothers were out, and Mr. Fox was away for a day or two on business, as he said, Lady Mary set out for Mr. Fox’s castle. And after many searchings, she came at last to it, and a fine strong house it was, with high walls and a deep moat. And when she came up to the gateway she saw written on it:
Be Bold, Be Bold.
But as the gate was open, she went through it, and found no one there. So she went up to the doorway, and over it she found written:
Be Bold, Be Bold, But Not Too Bold.
Still she went on, till she came into the hall, and went up the broad stairs till she came to a door in the gallery, over which was written:
Be Bold, Be Bold, But Not Too Bold, Lest That Your Heart’s Blood Should Run Cold.
But Lady Mary was a brave one, she was, and she opened the door, and what do you think she saw? Why, bodies and skeletons of beautiful young ladies all stained with blood. So Lady Mary thought it was high time to get out of that horrid place, and she closed the door, went through the gallery, and was just going down the stairs, and out of the hall, when who should she see through the window, but Mr. Fox dragging a beautiful young lady along from the gateway to the door. Lady Mary rushed downstairs, and hid herself behind a cask, just in time, as Mr. Fox came in with the poor young lady who seemed to have fainted. Just as he got near Lady Mary, Mr. Fox saw a diamond ring glittering on the finger of the young lady he was dragging, and he tried to pull it off. But it was tightly fixed, and would not come off, so Mr. Fox cursed and swore, and drew his sword, raised it, and brought it down upon the hand of the poor lady. The sword cut off the hand, which jumped up into the air, and fell of all places in the world into Lady Mary’s lap. Mr. Fox looked about a bit, but did not think of looking behind the cask, so at last he went on dragging the young lady up the stairs into the Bloody Chamber.
As soon as she heard him pass through the gallery, Lady Mary crept out of the door, down through the gateway, and ran home as fast as she could.
Now it happened that the very next day the marriage contract of Lady Mary and Mr. Fox was to be signed, and there was a splendid breakfast before that. And when Mr. Fox was seated at table opposite Lady Mary, he looked at her. “How pale you are this morning, my dear.” “Yes," said she, “I had a bad night’s rest last night. I had horrible dreams.” “Dreams go by contraries,” said Mr. Fox; “but tell us your dream, and your sweet voice will make the time pass till the happy hour comes.”
“I dreamed,” said Lady Mary, “that I went yestermorn to your castle, and I found it in the woods, with high walls, and a deep moat, and over the gateway was written:
Be Bold, Be Bold.
“But it is not so, nor it was not so,” said Mr. Fox.
“And when I came to the doorway over it was written:
Be Bold, Be Bold, But Not Too Bold.
“It is not so, nor it was not so,” said Mr. Fox.
“And then I went upstairs, and came to a gallery, at the end of which was a door, on which was written:
Be Bold, Be Bold, But Not Too Bold, Lest That Your Heart’s Blood Should Run Cold.
“It is not so, nor it was not so,” said Mr. Fox.
“And then–and then I opened the door, and the room was filled with bodies and skeletons of poor dead women, all stained with their blood.”
“It is not so, nor it was not so. And God forbid it should be so," said Mr. Fox.
“I then dreamed that I rushed down the gallery, and just as I was going down the stairs, I saw you, Mr. Fox, coming up to the hall door, dragging after you a poor young lady, rich and beautiful.”
“It is not so, nor it was not so. And God forbid it should be so," said Mr. Fox.
“I rushed downstairs, just in time to hide myself behind a cask, when you, Mr. Fox, came in dragging the young lady by the arm. And, as you passed me, Mr. Fox, I thought I saw you try and get off her diamond ring, and when you could not, Mr. Fox, it seemed to me in my dream, that you out with your sword and hacked off the poor lady’s hand to get the ring.”
“It is not so, nor it was not so. And God forbid it should be so," said Mr. Fox, and was going to say something else as he rose from his seat, when Lady Mary cried out:
“But it is so, and it was so. Here’s hand and ring I have to show," and pulled out the lady’s hand from her dress, and pointed it straight at Mr. Fox.
At once her brothers and her friends drew their swords and cut Mr. Fox into a thousand pieces.
As part of my campaign to break the spurious link between Gilles de Rais and
Bluebeard, here is the story of Mr Fox, the English Bluebeard. There are many, many other tales with similar elements - the forbidden room, the murderous husband or fiancé - but this happens to be a personal favourite of mine. From the delicious sing-song opening - "Lady Mary was young and Lady Mary was fair"- to the final call and response dialogue leading to the abrupt ending, it maintains a perfect tension.
The significant point about this old folktale is that it is alluded to by Shakespeare in Much Ado About Nothing - Like the old tale, my lord: 'it is not so, nor 'twas not so, but, indeed, God forbid it should be so'. The play was written around 1598 or 1599, and even then Mr Fox was an "old tale".
Perrault's Bluebeard was written in 1697, almost a century later. It can hardly be said that the uxoricidal spouse trope was invented by him, or indeed that the unknown English author of Mr Fox was inspired by Gilles de Rais.
The truth is that the Abbé Bossard, who was writing a thesis in the discipline of French Literature, knew even less about folklore than he did about history. Gilles de Rais had never been compared to Bluebeard until the mid-nineteenth century, when the idea first emerged and was seized on by Paul Lacroix, the Bibliophile Jacob. Bossard accepted Lacroix's clearly forged account of the trial and with it his assertion that Gilles had a literal blue beard and was nicknamed for it. Thus he had an entirely original (because false) topic for his thesis, which was his sole aim. The absolutely bogus link between the folktale ogre and the alleged child-murderer came into being solely because subsequent biographers simply could not be bothered to do their own research, but were content to lean on Bossard's dubious assertions.
Gilles de Rais was not the original of Bluebeard.
It is not so, nor 'twas not so, but, indeed,
God forbid it should be so...
Here is a useful list of folk tales similar to Bluebeard, compiled by the excellent Sur La Lune site. They are categorised as types ATU 312, ATU 310, and ATU 955 in the Aarne-Thompson-Uther index.
https://www.surlalunefairytales.com/a-g/bluebeard/bluebeard-related.html