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THE LEGEND OF KNOCKGRAFTON
retelling by J. Kearns
A curious tale in which a hunchback comes upon some fairies, delights them, and has his hump removed.
 The Irish tell of a race of people who came to
their island who were called the People of Dana. These became the
fairy people.
There once lived in
Ireland, in the fertile glen of Aherlow, at the foot of gloomy Galtee
mountains, a poor man who was ugly and misshapen as he had a great
hump on his back. The hump was so large that they say it looked like
his body had been rolled up and placed on his shoulders, and the
weight of the hump pressed his head down so much that when he was
sitting his chin used to rest on his knees for support. Because he was
so ugly, people were frightened of meeting him in any lonesome place,
yet this poor creature was as harmless and inoffensive as a new-born
infant.
1
Though this
hunchback was harmless, ill-minded people had told some strange
stories about him, which made others even more frightened of him. It
was spread around that he had a great knowledge of herbs and charms,
and this was said in such a way that rather than sounding like a wise
doctor, people thought he must be a cunning and evil creature with
deep, dark secrets and unnatural powers.
What they say is
certain is that the hunchback was skillful with his hands, and that he
knew more than anyone else about plaiting straw and rushes into
baskets and hats and figures and wreaths. This may not seem like much
of a talent now, but it was then. Plaiting was looked upon as
important work. There were different styles of plaiting, and by the
styles that were used one could tell stories by what plaits you used
in, for instance, a wreath. At harvest time people used to plait a
certain kind of harvest knot for men and a certain kind for women, and
these were called corn dollies even though they were made of wheat.
The harvest knots represented the richness of the harvest, which meant
a lot to people who grew their own food, for if the harvest was bad
you would go hungry during the winter, but if it was good you feasted.
Then for Halloween, which they called Samhain, people plaited what was
called a parshell, and they put it on the door to keep evil spirits
away. A parshell was a form of cross. Also, each county had its own
style for plaiting what were called St. Brigit Crosses, which were
made in honor of Brigit who was a goddess of the people of Dana.
The hunchback had a
nickname. People called him Lusmore because in his straw hat he always
wore a sprig of the plant foxglove, which is a type of snapdragon and
is also called lusmore or fairy cap. Some say it is actually folk's
glove instead of foxglove and is named for the fairy folk. It is a
poisonous plant which children should never touch and there is a
superstition that if you pick it you anger the fairies.
One evening, Lusmore
was walking from the town of Cahir towards Cappagh, and as he walked
slowly because of his hump, he was still on the road when it grew
quite dark. It was deep dark night when he came to the old moate of
Knockgrafton, which stood on the right-hand side of the road. I need
to tell you that this is not the kind of moate that surrounds a castle
and has water in it. Moate here means an artificial hill, one that has
been intentionally built. And the "knock" of Knockgrafton
means "hill" as well. In Ireland these moates are also
called fairy mounds and some think they were built around the time the
pharaohs were building the great pyramids of Egypt. They are called
fairy mounds because they were built so long ago that even many aren't
sure exactly who built them, and some think they are where fairies
live. These fairy mounds are all over Ireland. In fact you find them
many different places, and even in America, only we know that here
they were built by Native Americans a long time ago.
2
Lusmore was very
tired from his walk, and knowing he had a long way to go yet made him
even more tired thinking about it. He also was uncomfortable with
having to walk at night. Feeling sad, he sat down beside the moate to
rest, and while he sat there he mournfully gazed at the moon which, a
poet says,
"Rising in
clouded majesty, at length
Apparent Queen, unveil'd her peerlees
light
And o'er tile dark her silver mantle threw."
After a while,
Lusmore began to hear music--but what kind of music? It was unlike
anything he'd ever heard. It was wild to his ear, and had an unearthly
melody. There was nothing unpleasant about it, or frightening. Indeed,
Lusmore thought he had never heard any music that was more beautiful,
or captivating. It was like the sound of many voices, each mingling
and blending with the other so strangely that they seemed to be one,
though all singing different strains. The words of the song were
these:
Dia Luain, Dia
Mairt
Dia Luain, Dia Mairt
Dia Luain, Dia Mairt…
Hush. A moment's
pause. Wait…
There. And the song
began again. That's exactly how it was. Those few words were sung,
then there would be a pause, and then the round of melody would go on
again. Dia Luain means Monday, and Dia Mairt means
Tuesday. That is what was being sung.
Lusmore listened,
scarcely breathing, to those few beautiful lines which were repeated
again and again. Realizing the singing came from within the moate
Knockgrafton, he scarcely breathed as he feared losing the slightest
note. However, after Lusmore had listened for a while, he began to be
tired of hearing the same round sung over and over without any change.
3
Lusmore waited for
the pause that would follow the end of the next round. The voices
sang:
Dia Luain, Dia
Mairt
Dia Luain, Dia Mairt
Dia Luain, Dia Mairt…
"Agus Dia
Ceadaoine," Lusmore had sang, which means, "and Wednesday."
Well, this was something new to the fairies within the moate
Knockgrafton, for the song to which Lusmore had added a line was a
fairy melody. Were they angry? No, they were so delighted that they
instantly resolved to bring this mortal into their midst who was so
clever, and had such musical skill.
Immediately, Lusmore
found himself grasped up as if by a whirlwind and transported into the
company of the fairies. Twirling round and round with the lightness of
a straw, to the sweetest music which kept time with his motion, he
went through the wall of the moate as if it was made of something less
than even fog. Welcoming him, the fairies paid him the greatest honor
for they put him up above all the musicians. Servents tended to him,
and he had everything to his heart's content. He was made as much of
as if he had been the first man in the land.
Presently, Lusmore
saw the fairies carrying on a great consultation amongst themselves.
Though they had been more than civil to him--far more than civil
considering the honor they'd paid him--he began to feel anxious and
frightened as he had no idea what they were talking about. Then, a
fairy stepped out from the rest, came up to him and said,
"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!"
4
When these words
were said, poor Lusmore felt himself so light, and so happy, that he
thought he could have bounded at one jump over the moon. Do you know
the rhyme, "Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow
jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such sport and the
dish ran away with the spoon"? That's how Lusmore felt, just like
that high-jumping cow. Amazed, he saw his hump tumble down to the
ground from his shoulders. Was he free to bear himself like other men
finally? Slowly, a little afraid (for his head had so long been
weighted down that he was afraid to be too hopeful) he lifted his head
a tiny bit from his knee, and it felt so grand, it felt so light. His
head felt so light in fact that he even more carefully lifted his head
the rest of the way for he was afraid he might knock it against the
ceiling of the grand fairy hall. Why? Because he had no experience
with how tall he really was. Sitting straight now as any man, Lusmore
looked round and round in absolute wonder. With the greatest delight
he looked round and round upon everything and it all appeared more and
more beautiful. Everywhere he looked there was such beauty that he was
overpowered by the splendor of it all and his head grew dizzy and his
eyesight became dim, as if his eyes could no longer bear such
radiance.
Lusmore fell asleep.
When he next opened his eyes it was to the bright sun of broad
daylight, and he heard the sweet singing of birds. Lusmore saw he was
lying at the foot of the moate of Knockgrafton. All around him cows
and sheep grazed peacefully. Suddenly Lusmore remembered the events of
the night before. Oh, but had it all only been a dream? Hesitant,
Lusmore reached a hand back to feel for his hump, if it was still
there. No! The hump was gone. Lusmore leapt up. He looked at his
hands, his arms, his chest, his legs, and oh what pride he felt for he
saw he was well-shaped. Not only that, he was wearing a very nice new
suit of clothes which the fairies must have made for him.
Towards Cappagh
Lusmore went, his walk light and carefree, springing up at every step
as if he had been all his life a dancing-master. No one who met
Lusmore recognized him without his hump.
5
"It's me,"
he would say. "It's me, Lusmore!"
"Oh, but you
couldn't be Lusmore," would come the reply. "You don't look
at all like Lusmore. Lusmore had a great hump on his back that
weighted his head down almost to his knees."
"I know, and
look how well-shaped I am now. Isn't it wonderful?" he would
answer. "But it really is me, the same Lusmore who plaits baskets
and hats and wreathes. I am the Lusmore of whom you have all been
afraid."
In truth, he was not
the same Lusmore, as outward appearance went.
One morning, Lusmore
was sitting, feeling very contented, at his door when an old woman
approached him. "Kind sir, could you direct me to Cappagh?"
she asked.
"No need to
give you directions, my good woman," Lusmore replied, "for
this is Cappagh. Who do you want here?"
The old woman told
him, "I have come out of Decie's country, in the county of
Waterford.. I'm looking for one called Lusmore, who, I have heard
tell--for everyone far and wide is talking about it--had his hump
taken off by the fairies. There is the son of a gossip of mine who's
got a hump on him that will be his death, but maybe, if he could use
the same charm as this fellow Lusmore employed, the hump may be taken
off him."
"I am that
Lusmore," Lusmore said, and since he was always a good-natured
fellow he told the woman all about how he had sung with the fairies at
Knockgrafton, and how he ad delighted them so much by adding a new
line to their song that they removed his hump from his shoulders and
gave him a new suit of clothes as well.
The woman thanked
him very much, and went to her gossip's house. She told her everything
Lusmore had said. Thereupon they took the gossip's humpbacked son, put
him on a cart, and took him all the way across the country to
Knockgrafton. It was a long journey and he complained all the way as
he had been peevish from his birth, but the women didn't seem to mind
his complaints for they were so hopeful that he would soon be cured of
his hump. Night was already falling when they arrived at Knockgrafton
and the women left him there beside the moate.
6
Jack Madden, for
that was the humped back man's name, had not been sitting there long
when he heard a tune that seemed to be coming from within the moate,
and it was much sweeter than the one Lusmore had heard for it was sung
with Lusmore's addition to it. Jack Madden heard,
Dia Luain, Dia
Mairt
Dia Luain, Dia Mairt
Dia Luain, Dia Mairt
Agus Dia Ceadaoine…
On and on it went,
without cease.
Jack Madden was in a
great hurry to get rid of his hump. Unlike the considerate Lusmore, he
never thought of waiting until the fairies were done singing, or
watching for an opportunity to "raise the tune higher again"
as had Lusmore, they say. Having heard the fairies sing the tune seven
times without stopping, out he bawls, never minding the time, or the
humor of the tune,
"Agus dia
Ceadaoine, Agus dia Hena"
which means, "and
Wednesday, and Thursday." You see, Madden, they say, had been not
only peevish since birth, he'd also been cunning, and Madden thought
that if Lusmore had added one day and gotten his hump removed and a
new suit of clothes, then for him to add two days would not only get
his hump removed by get him certainly two new suits of clothes in the
bargain.
No sooner had the
words passed Madden's lips than he found himself taken up and whisked
into the moate with prodigious force. It was a terrible thing. The
fairies crowding about him with great rage, screeching and screaming
and roaring, "Who spoiled our tune? Who spoiled our tune?"
one stepped up to him above all the rest and said,
7
"Jack Madden!
Jack Madden
Your words came so bad in
the tune we feel glad
in;
This castle you're had in,
That your life we may sadden:
Here's two humps for Jack Madden!"
And, can you believe
it, twenty of the strongest fairies brought Lusmore's hump and put it
down on Jack Madden's back over his own hump where it was fixed as
firmly and permanently as if it had been nailed down there! There, at
moate Knockgrafton, they grafted on Lumore's knock to Madden's own.
Then the fairies kicked him out of their castle.
In the morning, when
Jack Madden's mother and her gossip came to look after the hump-backed
man, they found him half-dead, with the other hump upon his back,
lying at the foot of moate Knockgrafton. Aghast, the two women looked
at each other, but they were afraid to say a thing lest a hump be put
upon their own shoulders. So, they took Jack Madden home with them, as
downcast in their hearts and their looks as ever two gossips were;
and, what, because of the weight of his second hump, and the long
journey, Jack Madden died very soon after, leaving, they say, his
heavy curse to any one who would go to listen to fairy tunes again.
This tells you a
little bit about the unpredictability of fairies.
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The Legend of Knockgrafton
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Retelling by j. Kearns based on the Irish tale found in W. B. Yeat's "Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry".
©
Copyright 1998 j Kearns
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