From Folklore To Real Life: Women And The Sea
“My greatest enemies are Women and the Sea. These things I hate. Women because they are weak and stupid and live in the shadow of men and are nothing compared to them, and the Sea because it has always frustrated me, destroying what I have built, washing away what I have left, wiping clean the marks I have made.” – The Wasp Factory, Ian Banks
This quote always comes to mind when I think of anything to do with women and water. I think this is partly because it is a fantastic book, but mostly because it is a quote of half-truth and half-absurdity. Women and the sea share connotations of being wild, unkempt and uncontrollable; but, at the same time they also share reputations of beauty, grace and power. Water is a common feature within folklore; there are filled with lagoons, mermaids, oceans with monstrous krakens, and there are the kelpies and river nymphs which haunt the rivers and lakes of Britain too - but there will be plenty of other opportunities to delve into those mysteries. Water is the basis for a lot of the world creation myths, from the creation myths of Mesopotamia to Bakuba Creation myth of Africa. Water is not only a place of creation though; it is a dangerous force of which the human and animal kingdom alike have respect, and be wary of.
In this month’s folklore piece, I’d like to introduce readers to a place where beauty and power didn’t quite achieve its intended purpose, and of how water can give life as well as take it away. It’s a place that is local to me in South Wales; it is easily accessible and extremely popular with dogwalkers. In fact, it’s where my partner and I had one of our first dates. It’s a beautiful location with a great walk that can be ambled along or taken at speed if you’re not quite feeling a long trek. I always make sure to take a flask of coffee and some sandwiches - oh and a towel for the dog!
Location – Kenfig Pools – Bridgend, South Wales
Folklore – The Sunken Village
In Bridgend, South Wales, there once was a vast and prosperous village called Kenfig. It was ruled by a wealthy Lord and Lady of enchanting beauty but wicked constitutions. And unfortunately, not much more could be said for their daughter. The town lived in constant fear and poverty due to the high taxes which the Lord had set in order to keep his Lady and daughter in rich jewels and finery. Whilst the Lord was rich and handsome, he was lonely and he had a very big problem – he needed to marry his daughter off. He knew that his daughter was one of the most beautiful women in the land, but he also knew that she would never find a rich husband with her having such a precious and demanding nature. It was the only thing that worried him, that he would have not have an heir to the throne.
Unbeknownst to him, the daughter was secretly seeing one of the young men from the village. He was poor and would not be allowed to marry the Lords daughter due to his poverty and so they met in secret. The daughter was desperate to marry her secret lover and though she enjoyed the man’s company, she secretly agreed with her father that it would be better if he was rich. Not wanting to give in, she conspired to get her own way. She knew that her father had recently sent out a man to collect taxes from the neighbouring villages and that he was due to return any day. She convinced her lover to ambush this poor man and take the riches so they could get married. At first, he said no. He said that he could not kill this man without a good reason, that probably knew this man as the village was so small and he would shame his family.
She would not stop until he agreed, she cried about how he didn’t love her and how sad she would be that she would never see him again. She told him that she would die without him and that he must do this if he loved her and she would tell his family something wicked if he did not do as she said. He did love her, his stomach twisted and turned but he gave in and agreed. He hid in the bushes in the dead of the night as the taxman passed him on the warm summer evening, he struck him down dead with a mallet. Taking everything the taxman had, including the taxman’s collection list, he dragged the taxman into the river and tied his body down with stones and returned to his love in the castle. With the lovers new found wealth, a marriage was arranged with all of the village invited. It was a grand and extravagant affair.
At the point of the wedding toast as the glasses were raised, a wind sept through the hall shattering glasses, with a voice that shouted, “Vengeance will come in the ninth hour!” However, life carried on in spite of this, and the lovers had many children and lived selfishly. As did their children’s children. The villagers drew even further away, until it was only the Lord’s family themselves left in Kenfig. They had not even servants left to tend to the family due their spiteful and unjust ways and the castle had become dark and gloomy.
One night there was a fearful storm and the doors rattled ferociously, and there came a knock at the doors. The newly appointed Lord answered the door to a very wet and weary traveller. “What do you want?” The lord scorned at the poor man.
“I was hoping to beg some shelter with you and your dear Lady, I am the great-great-great-great-great-great grandson of the taxman of this village. I am owed a boon.”
The Lord screwed up his face and laughed and simply slammed the door in his face. The moment the door slammed, there came the most ferocious winds and a voice that screamed “Vengeance has come.” The storm raged on all night and desperate screaming could be heard in all the neighbouring houses on both sides of Kenfig.
In the morning, people from the neighbouring villages came to see the damage from the storm and were shocked to see that when they tried to enter Kenfig, the village was no more. It had been swallowed by the storm and left barely a trace that anything had ever been there before.
Some say that on the day of great storms you can hear the church bells tolling sadly underneath the lake and some say that there are three chimneys which appear, churning out noxious fumes when there are storms where seafarers will die. Swimmers are warned not to swim in the southwest of the lake as that is where the so-called Black Gutter lies, where whirlpools drag swimmers down to join the doomed Lords of the past.
This particular folklore of a drowned village is not an uncommon one - there are many villages that are said to have been drowned for their wicked deeds and actions. Most of the tales are cautionary and try to show that it is better to be kind than to be lonely and have everything but company. In tales like these the chance for forgiveness is often offered but seldom taken and there lies the ruin of pride. Whilst this tale is one of the sadder in the collection, it is one of the prettiest and more accessible locations I have been able to visit in South Wales during lockdown. If you visit be sure to let me know, especially if you hear a bell ringing or see smoke on the water!
Written by Melanie Smith
Melanie Smith is a writer from Ebbw Vale, South Wales. She is currently writing a novel inspired by Welsh folklore and studies at the University of South Wales.