The Sunken City of Ys

In one of the regions of Brittany, during the early days of Christianity, there was a city, now destroyed, called either Kris or Keris. In those times, that is, in the 5th century, the land was ruled by Gradlon, nicknamed Meur, which means "the Great." Gradlon was in respectful friendship with a holy man, Gwenole, the founder and first abbot of the first monastery in Armorica. This is all that history has preserved about this city, this ruler, and this monk.

However, folk singers provide additional details. According to their version, Ker-Is or the city of Is, the capital of King Gradlon's domain, was protected from sea floods by a huge well or reservoir, into which excess water flowed during high tides. This well was sealed with a hidden door, and the king always kept the key to it on his person, to unlock and lock it as needed. And then one day, Princess Dahut, his daughter, wishing to amuse her lover one last time, with whom she had feasted all night, stole the treasured key from her father, unlocked the well, and the city was flooded. Saint Gwenole is said to have predicted this disaster, which became the basis for the following ballad.

I

Who has not heard from ancient times:
There was a city, Is, rich and strong,
And ruled it King Gradlon.
A holy sage once told him true:
"Love will destroy your crown,
Feasts will bring your palace down.
He who feasts on fish shall find
A resting place beneath the brine,
And become food for fish in time.
And he who drinks and drinks his wine,
Shall surely drink the sea's design,
When he sinks beneath the line."

II

Again, a feast is held in cheer,
The king shakes his head, drawing near:
"I shall retire, my rest is clear."
"Must the evening go to waste?
You’ll sleep well by morning’s haste.
But, sire, your will we shall embrace."
The princess’s lover then appears.
While all eat and drink with cheers:
"Fetch the treasured key, Dahut dear!"
"What? The key? Ah, if that’s the case,
We’ll steal it quietly, without a trace,
And unlock the well in haste!"

III

Whoever saw King Gradlon sleep,
His silver hair in slumber deep,
Would surely marvel at the sight.
Cloaked in purple, regal and bright,
The mighty king sleeps through the night,
A chain on his chest glowing light.
Had a guard been in his room,
He’d have seen, in the night’s gloom,
The daughter enter her father’s tomb.
Barefoot, she slipped to his bedside,
Leaned over him, and with quiet stride,
Took the chain and key in stride.

IV

Still sleeps King Gradlon, deep and long,
But over the plains, a wail is strong:
"The flood! Water from all sides throng!"
"Awake, O king! Disaster’s near!
Mount your steed, ride without fear!
The abyss breaks free, the end is here!"

V

"Forester, forester, tell me true,
Have you seen in this domain,
Gradlon on his steed so brave?"
"No, I have not seen the king,
But I heard the earth’s trembling ring,
And the sound of hooves across the plain."
"Fisherman, tell me all you know,
Have you seen a maiden below,
Golden-haired, above the flow?"
"Once there was a maiden here,
How mournfully she did appear!
And the waves echoed her song’s tear..."

↑ To the top

The Sunken City of Ys

More fairy tales