Hello One and All!
There has been a recent trend of depicting fairies as quaint and cute, which has taken hold in popular culture. Irish folktales cast these supernatural beings in a different light; they could be capricious and, although sometimes jovial, one had to beware when interacting with them. One tale which encapsulates this dichotomy is The Legend of Knockgrafton.
The Legend of Knockgrafton
Long ago there lived a poor man in the glen of Aherlow. Lusmore was his nickname, derived from the sprig of foxglove he always wore in his hat. Another identifying feature was the hump on his back, which caused great distress to him because townspeople would often avoid him when they spotted him. Nevertheless, the man was able to make a living from his great knowledge of herbs and charms.
One particular evening Lusmore was walking back from the town of Cahir, although by the time he reached the old moat of Knockgrafton his legs started to feel weak, so he sat down and watched the moon while he recovered his breath. A faint song tickled his ear:
Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort
This energetic melody enraptured him so that he listened with bated breath. After the fourteenth time the song had none of its charms, thus he raised his own voice, adding the line augus Da Cadine. The notes died on his lips and he felt himself twirled through the ground of the moat, inside a fairy dwelling, outfitted with the most wondrous and ethereal fabrics. The humble man was fêted like a returning hero; fairies plied him with mead and food until he felt like he was bursting. A group of energetic fairies emerged from the crowd and broke into song:
Lusmore! Lusmore!
Doubt not, nor deplore,
For the hump which you bore
On your back is no more;
Look down on the floor, And view it, Lusmore!
The weight on his back vanished and he felt himself slip into a deep sleep. Hours passed and strong afternoon sunlight shone into his eyes and roused him, whereupon he found himself back in the moat, where birds darted all around and sung sweetly. Doubt began to creep into his mind. He massaged his back and felt no protuberance. Perhaps it had been real after all!
Henceforth no one was able to recognize him and he had to introduce himself to everyone he met, much to his enjoyment. Word began to spread throughout Ireland of the miracle that had befell Lusmore. One peaceful morning, as he was sunning himself in front of his house, an old woman approached him.
She said, "Sorry to be a bother. I have come from the county of Waterford in search of a certain Lusmore, who was cured of his hump."
He informed her that he was in fact that person.
"I have a son who has a hump also and I would greatly appreciate if you could teach me the charm."
Lusmore was a soft-hearted man, so he could not deny her this request and laid out what he had done.
The woman returned home with the secret, tears of gratitude stinging her eyes. Wasting no time, the family took the son, named Jack Madden, all the way to the moat of Knockgrafton and left him there, per Lusmore's instructions. He did not have to wait long, for the fairies' ditty drifted on the wind to him. This beautiful tune did not sweep him away though, in fact it bored him utterly and he screamed words that came to his mind:
Agus Déardaoin, Agus Dé haoine
This means "and Thursday, and Friday", which was his way of insinuating that he wanted two new suits as well as his hump removed. The music stopped. A throng of fairies stormed around him, screeching and spitting, and they grasped his arms and legs to hold him in place. Lusmore's old hump appeared and they jammed it down the man's shoulders, so that he had two humps instead of one. The family returned to the moat, but instead of finding a cured man, they saw a half-dead man - a warning to anyone foolish enough to be greedy with fairy gifts.
Thank you for reading!
There has been a recent trend of depicting fairies as quaint and cute, which has taken hold in popular culture. Irish folktales cast these supernatural beings in a different light; they could be capricious and, although sometimes jovial, one had to beware when interacting with them. One tale which encapsulates this dichotomy is The Legend of Knockgrafton.
The Legend of Knockgrafton
Long ago there lived a poor man in the glen of Aherlow. Lusmore was his nickname, derived from the sprig of foxglove he always wore in his hat. Another identifying feature was the hump on his back, which caused great distress to him because townspeople would often avoid him when they spotted him. Nevertheless, the man was able to make a living from his great knowledge of herbs and charms.
One particular evening Lusmore was walking back from the town of Cahir, although by the time he reached the old moat of Knockgrafton his legs started to feel weak, so he sat down and watched the moon while he recovered his breath. A faint song tickled his ear:
Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort
This energetic melody enraptured him so that he listened with bated breath. After the fourteenth time the song had none of its charms, thus he raised his own voice, adding the line augus Da Cadine. The notes died on his lips and he felt himself twirled through the ground of the moat, inside a fairy dwelling, outfitted with the most wondrous and ethereal fabrics. The humble man was fêted like a returning hero; fairies plied him with mead and food until he felt like he was bursting. A group of energetic fairies emerged from the crowd and broke into song:
Lusmore! Lusmore!
Doubt not, nor deplore,
For the hump which you bore
On your back is no more;
Look down on the floor, And view it, Lusmore!
The weight on his back vanished and he felt himself slip into a deep sleep. Hours passed and strong afternoon sunlight shone into his eyes and roused him, whereupon he found himself back in the moat, where birds darted all around and sung sweetly. Doubt began to creep into his mind. He massaged his back and felt no protuberance. Perhaps it had been real after all!
Henceforth no one was able to recognize him and he had to introduce himself to everyone he met, much to his enjoyment. Word began to spread throughout Ireland of the miracle that had befell Lusmore. One peaceful morning, as he was sunning himself in front of his house, an old woman approached him.
She said, "Sorry to be a bother. I have come from the county of Waterford in search of a certain Lusmore, who was cured of his hump."
He informed her that he was in fact that person.
"I have a son who has a hump also and I would greatly appreciate if you could teach me the charm."
Lusmore was a soft-hearted man, so he could not deny her this request and laid out what he had done.
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| Moat Faeries, Legend of Knockgrafton, Elventide, Pandemonium Puppet Company,1980. |
The woman returned home with the secret, tears of gratitude stinging her eyes. Wasting no time, the family took the son, named Jack Madden, all the way to the moat of Knockgrafton and left him there, per Lusmore's instructions. He did not have to wait long, for the fairies' ditty drifted on the wind to him. This beautiful tune did not sweep him away though, in fact it bored him utterly and he screamed words that came to his mind:
Agus Déardaoin, Agus Dé haoine
This means "and Thursday, and Friday", which was his way of insinuating that he wanted two new suits as well as his hump removed. The music stopped. A throng of fairies stormed around him, screeching and spitting, and they grasped his arms and legs to hold him in place. Lusmore's old hump appeared and they jammed it down the man's shoulders, so that he had two humps instead of one. The family returned to the moat, but instead of finding a cured man, they saw a half-dead man - a warning to anyone foolish enough to be greedy with fairy gifts.
Thank you for reading!
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