Kelpie
Hello and welcome to the first ever episode of Fab Figmentals!
I’m Lindsey Morse, your guide through the realm of curious creatures, magical monsters, and beautiful beasts. Each week on this podcast, we’re going to explore a different legendary creature by looking at its history and folklore. Each episode will begin with a story, and then we’ll take a look at the creature’s origins and how it’s been portrayed throughout the ages. We’ll feature original stories, as well as classic fairy tales. We also accept stories submitted by you, our listeners! If you have a story you’d like to see on the show, stay tuned after the episode. We’ll provide instructions for how to submit your original story in our closing credits!
For our inaugural episode, I’ve picked a creature that’s fascinated me for years, the Scottish kelpie.
The kelpie is a shape-shifting water spirit that is said to inhabit the lochs, rivers, and pools of Scotland. Underneath the surface of the water, the kelpie lives in its true, monstrous form, but passers-by beware… the malevolent kelpie can transform at will into a beautiful human or a majestic horse. In these guises, the kelpie does it’s best to lure victims to a watery grave.
Before we get kick off the show, I want to point out that the stories we share will often be more Brothers Grimm than Mother Goose, and this week our characters end up in a situation that’s far from “happily ever after.” Please be advised that this episode may not be appropriate for little ears.
Each episode of Fab Figmentals will begin with a story, and this week’s tale is an original vignette that we’ve written in house. Kelpies are a regular fixture in Scottish folklore, and we’ve drawn inspiration from a classic tale that’s been told and retold for years and years. It’s called: the kelpie and the 10 children.
-music begins-
Just outside the small village of Ardentinny, along the western banks of Loch Long, a very large family lived together in a very tiny cottage. Though everyone in those parts knew everyone in those parts, the Buchanan family was hard to miss and even harder to forget.
Ma and Pa Buchanan had filled their little corner of Scotland with 10 young sons — all with bright red hair, and all under the age of 10. All - that is - except for Frazer, the oldest, who had just turned 15 and, unlike his many brothers, had curls as dark as the midnight waters of the nearby loch.
This day, like many others, the parents Buchanan sent their boys out into the misty Scottish morning, the lads’ tiny fists full of homemade fishing poles, hooks, and pails for collecting grubs. Frazer, as the oldest, was in charge of the brood and responsible for gutting the fish they caught with a thin filet knife he kept in a sheath tucked into his woolen sock.
Like a cloud of fiery midges, the younger, red-haired brothers Buchanan swarmed around the older Frazer as they made their way down the hill to the bank of the loch. Along the way, the next oldest boys under Frazer - Angus & Andrew - twins - stopped here and there to dig for worms, while the youngest lads picked wildflowers and did their best to keep up with the rest of their clan.
As the ripples of the loch came into view, the boys saw upon the pebbled, sandy bank a glorious black horse.
The boys stopped short, awed by the sight of the magnificent creature. The horse was larger than any they’d seen before, and its mane, coat, and tail were the deepest, sleekest black.
The boys crept closer, step after step, but - to their amazement - the horse did not startle. Moving as one, they continued, drawn in wonder towards the beautiful beast.
With each passing moment, their captive minds drifted further and further from fishing. They dropped their pails. They forgot their rods.
As they neared the horse, it began to move. The creature bowed its mighty head and knelt one leg upon the sand.
Electrified with glee, twins Angus & Andrew jumped to attention and sprinted forward. They reached the horse in several quick bounds. The stooping animal leaned into the boys, its long head and muscled neck guiding them upwards as they climbed onto its back.
The rest of the children weren’t far behind, and - one by one - the tiniest Buchanan brothers climbed and scampered onto the back of the willing giant. When only Frazer’s feet remained on solid ground, the stately horse stood up.
Frazer stood face to face with its sandy knee.
At that moment, he took in the full glory of the animal. Its wild, flowing mane whipped in the winds that swept across the loch, and its silken coat was the purest black - Bible black, darker than the sea on a moonless night.
It was breathtaking, and he was, for a heartbeat, spellbound.
As he marveled at its grandeur, the horse rocked backward and reared up on its hind legs.
Frazer’s stomach dropped.
Even though the horse’s mighty front hooves reached toward the sky, his 9 brothers did not slide off its back. They were stuck fast, sure as if they were nailed in place.
Angus let out a nervous squeal. Frightened ginger heads bobbed this way and that. One of the littlest Buchanans began to cry.
His brothers were in trouble. Frazer had to save them, but they were now out of his reach, high upon the rampant horse’s back.
He took an uncertain step forward and then mustered the courage to jump and grab for the creature’s long, untangled mane.
But his leap fell short, his finger merely grazing its shoulder.
Like a limpet upon a rock, the tip of his finger stuck fast to the smooth, sable fur.
Immediately, the horse let out an otherworldly howl and jerked backwards. As the kelpie retreated towards Loch Long, the many and small Buchanan brothers began to wail.
Frazer, whose finger was cemented to the animal’s side, was jerked every which way along with the beast as it dragged him into the water. A popping within his knuckle gave way to sharp pain. Dizzy and afraid, Frazer gasped for breath as the cold waters of the loch engulfed him.
Submerged in the roiling current, Frazer could feel the curves of the creature start to transform.
As his head crested above the water, Frazer caught a glimpse of a large, curling, amphibious tail. As the appendage sunk below the surface, the surrounding air exploded with a crack of thunder.
The realization hit Frazer like an accompanying bolt of lightening: he had but one hope - his filet knife still tucked into his sock. With steady hand and blurred vision, Frazer reached down and freed the blade.
He knew what he had to do. His lungs screamed for air, but he shut his lips tight and brought the knife up towards his captive finger.
Swallowing sobs into his burning lungs, he sawed and sawed at his finger until he felt his arm wrench free.
Frazer released the knife into the depths and thrashed through the waves to the shore, dragging his exhausted body onto the beach. Flipping back towards the water, he scanned the surface for signs of life. Moving away from the coastline, bubbling plumes escaped from the waters below.
He stood up and wrapped his bleeding hand in the hem of his dripping sweater. He squinted, willing his watering eyes to peer out into the mist once more.
He could just make out the bubbles.
As they retreated further into the empty length of Loch Long, Frazer swore he saw swirls of fiery red hair churning beneath the oily surface of the water.
-music ends-
Kelpie-like images have been found carved into stones from the 6th century, and kelpie tales have existed in Scotland since at least that far back.
As with many legends that have existed for such long periods of time, details about the kelpie are fluid, and can vary from region to region and story to story. In many tales, like the one we just heard, the kelpie shifts into the shape of a horse, lures children onto its back, drowns them in the water, and presumably eats them. The kelpie’s horse form is most often portrayed as beautiful and black, but not always. And frequently tales will see children stick to the horse when they touch it, but- again- this magical detail is not essential to kelpie lore.
In other stories, the kelpie shape shifts into a human form- often a handsome young male- but sometimes a lovely female or even someone hairy and grotesque. But fear not, if you should encounter a naked stranger lounging waterside, there may be a few telltale signs to warn you the fellow might be a kelpie in disguise. Watch out for seaweed woven into long dark locks of hair, and check the feet- kelpies can retain their hooves even in their human form.
But what does a kelpie really look like? This is more difficult to discern. Words like spirit, demon, and devil pop up often in kelpie lore, and, in fact, often times a young survivor of a kelpie encounter will happen to have a Bible tucked away in a pocket. Some artists have depicted the kelpie as a sea monster- often with horse-like attributes- and sometimes even as an equine-esque mermaid, but in most stories the monster only shows itself in a false form. And that somehow only adds to the terror, I think. Like an unseen monster in a horror film, sometimes the things we can’t envision are the scariest. It’s certainly terrifying to consider that only the kelpie’s victims stand a chance of glimpsing it in its truest form.
But the kelpie is not all-powerful. The creature is said to have the strength of at least 10 horses and near unlimited stamina. And that strength can be harnessed by anyone in possession of a kelpie bridle. Those who acquire one- and find a kelpie- can harness the power and strength of the beast for their own ends. Legend has it that Clan MacGregor is in possession of such an artifact, though it’s unclear whether they have an actual kelpie to use it on.
Interestingly, the kelpie isn’t Scotland’s only mythological water horse. In Shetland, tales persist of the shoopiltie and the nuggle, and Orkney is home to the tangie— all shapeshifting water spirits that take on the form of a horse to lure victims to a watery death. And let us not forget Scotland’s most famous legendary water-dwelling creature, the Loch Ness Monster. While most often described as a living, breathing creature vs. a spirit, Nessie certainly deserves a shout-out. Other parts of the UK have their own versions of the water horse, and- further afield- folklore tells of other malevolent water-dwelling creatures like the the German neck, the Central American wihwin, and the Australian bunyip, which we’ll look at in our next episode.
And it’s important to consider why tales of water-dwelling evil spirits are so widespread. Historians have suggested that tales of the kelpie may have grown out of Scotland’s pagan past, when sacrifices were made to gods associated with water.
But perhaps these stories have survived for so long because they serve a more practical purpose, instilling children with a healthy fear of dangerous bodies of water where nature itself has been known to claim young lives.
And what about the stories where the kelpie shifts into human form? Well, these likely serve as a warning for an older crowd. Avoid alluring strangers, and - thereby - the temptation of promiscuity.
Tales of the kelpie are older than the most ancient of Scotland’s venerable castles, but the kelpie still holds a place in the modern Scottish consciousness. In October 2013, the town of Falkirk unveiled two 30-meter high horse head statues at the gateway of the Forth & Clyde canal.
Titled The Kelpies, Andy Scott’s large-scale art structures reference not only the work’s mythological namesake, but also Scotland’s industrial heritage, as for centuries canal boats were pulled by horses along the parallel towpaths.
In the words of the artist himself, he “took the concept of mythical water horses… and moved with it towards a more equine and contemporary response, shifting from any mythological references towards a socio-historical monument intended to celebrate the horse’s role in industry and agriculture.”
The works are striking, and have been widely lauded for their visual appeal, as well as for their modern representation and reinterpretation of Scottish folklore.
I’d like to end this episode with a short reading from a 1785 poem by Scotland’s national poet, Robert Burns. In the poem, Burns invokes the style of a Presbyterian pulpit oratory to address the devil - yes, Satan himself - in a playful, irreverent way.
And guess who makes an appearance in one of the stanzas? Today’s honored guest - the kelpie. My Scots is a little rusty… okay nonexistent… so I’ve invited my production partner and the host of our sister show, Assassinations Podcast, to read for us.
Without further ado, here’s Niall Cooper reading an excerpt from Robert Burns’ “Address to the Devil”:
When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord,
An' float the jinglin' icy boord,
Then water-kelpies haunt the foord,
By your direction,
And 'nighted trav'llers are allur'd
To their destruction.
-closing music-
Thank you so much for tuning into the first ever episode of Fab Figmentals! I really hope you enjoyed the show.
If you’re excited for more figmentals, keep an eye out for a new episode every Wednesday. You’ll find us on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, and pretty much every other podcast aggregator. You’ll also find the show on our website, fabfigmentals.com. Make sure to subscribe on your podcatcher of choice to get new episodes as soon as they’re available.
Research, writing, and sound editing was done by me, Lindsey Morse. Niall Cooper helps me behind the scenes and assists with writing and editing. Our theme music was created by the incredible Graeme Ronald.
Do you have an original story about a figmental you’d like to see on the show? Please send it my way! It’s a goal of mine to be able to share listener submitted stories on this podcast, so show me what’s you’ve got! For guidelines on how to submit your original work, visit our website fabfigmentals.com and click the top of the page that says “submissions.”
If you’re interested in seeing how artists have portrayed the kelpie throughout history, follow me on twitter or instagram. I’ve been posting different artistic representations of the kelpie, and some of the images are really cool. From classic oil paintings to contemporary digital art, it’s really fascinating to see how different artists have envisioned the monster.
If you like learning about creatures that lurk in the shadows, perhaps you’d also be interested in learning more about humanity’s darker side. If so, please also check out our sister show, Assassinations Podcast. You’ll find a link in our show notes.
Thanks again for listening, and I hope you’ll join me next week, when I explore the mythology and lore surrounding the bunyip, a dangerous aquatic creature that hails from Australia’s swamps and waterways.