Beyond the Notes | 02. The Mermaid of Zennor

A mermaid, a church, a salty palace, simplicity at its finest, and music so raw, it is lost to the mists of time

In this series, I share some of the pieces of music which have meant the most to me in my life, and the stories behind why they resonate so strongly within a life lived slowly and simply.

---

Once upon a time, there was a mermaid…

It seems implausible, yet even as late as the 1980s, locals claimed they had seen the Mermaid of Zennor. The mysterious woman was said to have attended the local parish church, where she enticed Mathey Trewella to come with her to live, and neither were seen again. In St Senara’s church is found a carved pew-end depicting a mermaid, and the locals retell the tale as a warning against the temptation of beauty.

Thank you to Clementine for this photo of the north Cornwall coast in 2021.

When we used to holiday in Cornwall, I was really too young to appreciate the mystical beauty of this landscape. Tintagel was probably the closest we came, with its eerie ruins and rugged rocks. It’s a landscape in which folklore and legend are embedded in every nook and crevice. Zennor, a tiny village on the north coast of Cornwall, just a few miles north of Penzance, is one of many places whose picturesque beauty belies the dark myths and legends which fill its rich history.

There are megalithic burial chambers at Zennor Quoit and Spears Quoit, a prehistoric entrance grave known as the ‘giant’s house’, four round barrows, and several Iron Age promontory fort, all within a stone’s throw of the village of Zennor. When you consider the landscape, you can see why stories such as those of the Mermaid of Zennor hold such weight within the community.

Cornish folk-singer, Barbara Wootton immortalised the Mermaid of Zennor in her song, simply titled The Mermaid. If you’ve not come across Barbara Wootton, and I’d understand completely if you hadn’t, she is everything that the apparent performers, both classical and pop, of today are not. She could so easily herself, come straight from an Arthurian legend, her broad Cornish accent instantly recognisable, yet requiring intense concentration to untangle.

The mermaid sings:

“I heard them singing in the church above the ocean
I heard thee sing, my pretty boy
Far from my salty palaces
I have come to thee, my pretty boy”

So, why is The Mermaid special? In one sense, it comes from another time, an oral tradition in which myths, stories and legends were passed through families and communities. These stories became part of the very fabric of the place. It is a song about place and time. The song itself is so simple, storytelling through music at its simplest level. Then there’s the recording, the human voice and a pipe organ, perhaps the organ in the church at Zennor itself. It is raw, yet intimate, with roots hidden deep below the landscape. How I miss this sort of music.

You can hear Brenda Wootton talk about the Mermaid of Zennor in this clip from a 1981 BBC South West programme, Cornwall: The Land I Love:

In a world where music, and certainly recorded music, has become more complicated, engineered and enhanced than ever before, there is something beautifully touching about the simplicity of folk-song, whether it is those we are familiar with and with which we were brought up, or modern interpretations. It is, in many respects, simplicity at its finest.

Whatever truth there is the tale of the Mermaid of Zennor, we can’t help but be drawn into the narrative, its alluring mystery unmistakably set within of the Cornish landscape.

---

In case you missed the last edition of Beyond the Notes:

Beyond the Notes | 01

---

If you’re not already doing so, I’d love you to follow me over on Instagram. You can also visit the A Life More Creative website, where you can find out more about My Story, and read articles from my online Journal. Subscribe on Substack to receive new posts and to support my work: