The Fairies of Knockgrafton (Lusmore)

In the rolling hills of County Tipperary, where the ancient fairy fort of Knockgrafton rises like a green jewel from the emerald landscape, there lived a man whose kindness and gentle spirit shone as brightly as any treasure, despite the cruel burden that nature had placed upon his shoulders. This is the story of Lusmore, whose beautiful heart and sweeter voice earned him a miracle that changed not just his own life, but taught all who heard his tale about the true rewards of kindness and the bitter fruits of envy.

The Gentle Hunchback

Lusmore was born with a back so crooked and a hump so large that the village children would sometimes follow him through the streets, mimicking his awkward gait and pointing at his deformity. But if their cruelty caused him pain, Lusmore never showed it. Instead, he would smile at them with such genuine warmth that many of the kinder children would blush with shame and hurry away.

He made his living weaving baskets and rush caps, work that he could do sitting down and that required the nimble fingers and keen eye for pattern that he possessed in abundance. His craftsmanship was renowned throughout the county, for every basket he wove was not only sturdy and practical, but beautiful to behold, decorated with intricate designs that seemed to dance in the light.

But Lusmore’s greatest gift was not his skill with rushes and willows - it was his voice. When he sang, which he did often as he worked, people would stop in the street to listen. His voice was pure and sweet as spring water, and the melodies he sang were so beautiful that they seemed to come from some otherworldly source.

“That man has the voice of an angel,” the village priest would say whenever he heard Lusmore singing in his workshop. “It’s as if God gave him that beautiful voice to compensate for the burden he bears upon his back.”

The Lonely Wandering

Despite his gentle nature and his gifts, Lusmore was a lonely man. His deformity made it difficult for him to move quickly, and he tired easily from the extra weight he carried. Most evenings found him walking slowly through the countryside around his village, enjoying the peace of twilight and often singing softly to himself as he went.

It was during one of these solitary walks that Lusmore’s life changed forever. He had been traveling longer than usual, taking a path he had never walked before, when the sun set and left him far from home in unfamiliar territory. Rather than attempt the dangerous journey back in the dark, he decided to rest for the night beneath the ancient fairy fort of Knockgrafton.

The hill was one of the old places, where the Tuatha Dé Danann were said to hold court in halls of crystal and gold hidden beneath the green earth. Local people avoided Knockgrafton after dark, for it was well known that strange music could sometimes be heard drifting from within the hill, and lights that had no earthly source would dance among the ancient stones that crowned its summit.

But Lusmore was too tired to be afraid, and too innocent to believe that the fairy folk would mean harm to someone who had never harmed anyone in return. He settled himself as comfortably as he could against the side of the hill and prepared to spend the night under the stars.

The Fairy Music

As midnight approached and the world grew still around him, Lusmore began to hear something that made his heart leap with joy. From somewhere within the hill came the sound of the most beautiful music he had ever heard - voices singing in perfect harmony, accompanied by instruments that seemed to capture the very essence of melody itself.

The song was hauntingly simple, with just two lines that repeated over and over:

Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort Monday, Tuesday, Monday, Tuesday

But oh, the way they sang it! Each repetition was more beautiful than the last, with harmonies that seemed to weave themselves into the very fabric of the night. Lusmore listened in rapture, his musician’s ear detecting subtleties and variations that would have been lost on most mortal listeners.

As he listened, Lusmore began to notice that there was something incomplete about the song. The melody seemed to be waiting for something, building toward a resolution that never came. Without thinking, he began to hum along, and then, when the moment felt right, he added his own voice to the chorus:

Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort, agus Da Ceadain Monday, Tuesday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday

The moment his voice joined the fairy chorus, the music stopped abruptly. Lusmore’s heart sank, fearing that he had somehow offended the otherworldly singers by presuming to add to their song. But then, to his amazement, the hill began to glow with a soft, golden light, and he heard the sound of delighted laughter echoing from within.

The Fairy Invitation

Suddenly, the side of the hill opened like a great door, revealing a passage lined with walls of living crystal that glowed with their own inner light. From this magical entrance emerged a procession of the most beautiful beings Lusmore had ever seen - the fairy folk of Knockgrafton, dressed in robes of gossamer and starlight, their faces radiant with joy and welcome.

“Come in, come in, dear Lusmore,” called their leader, a tall fairy lord with eyes like starlight and a voice like silver bells. “You have completed our song most beautifully, and we would have you join us in our celebration.”

Lusmore hesitated, knowing the old stories about mortals who entered fairy hills and never returned. But the fairy lord seemed to sense his fear and smiled reassuringly.

“Have no worry, good man,” he said. “You have given us a gift with your music, and it is not our way to repay kindness with harm. Come and see the wonders of our realm, and when the night is over, you shall return to your own world with our blessing.”

Unable to resist such a gracious invitation, and drawn by curiosity about the magical realm within the hill, Lusmore allowed himself to be led through the crystal doorway into the fairy court of Knockgrafton.

The Otherworldly Court

The hall into which Lusmore was brought defied all description. It was vast beyond measure, with a ceiling that seemed to reach up to the stars themselves, though they were deep underground. The walls were made of precious stones that sang with their own music when the light touched them, and the floor was like a mirror that reflected not just images but dreams and possibilities.

The fairy folk filled the hall with their beauty and their laughter, dancing to music that came from everywhere and nowhere, playing games that involved juggling with stars and painting pictures with captured moonbeams. At the center of it all sat the Fairy Queen on a throne carved from a single enormous emerald, her beauty so radiant that Lusmore had to shield his eyes when he first looked upon her.

“Welcome, Lusmore of the sweet voice,” the Queen said, her words like the sound of wind chimes in a gentle breeze. “You have given our song the completion it has sought for seven years. In all that time, no mortal who heard our music has understood what was missing, or had the skill to provide what was needed.”

She gestured to the fairy musicians, who began to play the completed song with Lusmore’s addition. The music that resulted was so beautiful that it brought tears to the eyes of all who heard it, mortal and fairy alike.

“Name your reward,” the Queen continued, “for it is not meet that such a gift should go unrewarded.”

The Magnificent Gift

Lusmore looked around the fairy court with wonder, seeing treasures beyond imagining and marvels that no mortal had ever witnessed. Gold and silver lay scattered about like pebbles, jewels grew like flowers in crystal gardens, and magical artifacts that could grant any wish gleamed from every surface.

But when he spoke, it was not to ask for treasure or magical power.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion, “I have lived all my life bearing a burden that marks me as different from other men. If it is in your power, I would ask not for riches or magic, but simply to walk straight and tall like other people do.”

The Fairy Queen’s face lit up with approval at his modest request. “You ask for nothing selfish, nothing that would harm others, only for the chance to live without the burden that has made your life difficult. Such humility and goodness of heart deserve to be rewarded beyond measure.”

She gestured to her attendants, who surrounded Lusmore with a cloud of silver light that made him dizzy with its brightness. He felt strange sensations coursing through his body, as if every bone and muscle was being gently reshaped and made new.

When the light faded and the dizziness passed, Lusmore stood straight and tall for the first time in his life. The hump that had burdened him since birth was completely gone, replaced by shoulders as broad and straight as any man’s. He was still himself, but now he was free to move with grace and dignity.

The Joyful Return

The fairy folk cheered and applauded as Lusmore walked around their hall, marveling at his transformed body. The Queen commanded a great feast in his honor, and they celebrated until the first light of dawn began to creep across the sky.

“Now you must return to your own world,” the Queen said as the celebration ended. “But remember always that you carry with you the blessing of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Your voice, which was already a gift, is now enhanced beyond mortal ability. When you sing, hearts will be healed, sorrows will be lifted, and the very birds will pause to listen in wonder.”

Lusmore bowed deeply to the Queen and all her court, thanking them for their incredible generosity. As he was escorted back through the crystal passage, he looked over his shoulder one last time at the magical realm he was leaving behind.

The fairy lord who had first welcomed him smiled and pressed a small pouch into his hand. “A token of our friendship,” he said. “Not riches that will corrupt your good heart, but enough to ensure that you need never want for anything again.”

The New Life

When Lusmore emerged from Knockgrafton as the sun rose over the hills of Tipperary, he felt as if he were being born into the world for the second time. His straight back and proud carriage were only the beginning of his transformation - his voice had indeed been enhanced by fairy magic, and when he sang, the effect was miraculous.

He walked back to his village, taking the time to enjoy the sensation of moving freely and easily. When the villagers saw him approaching, they could hardly believe their eyes. Where once had walked a bent and burdened man, now strode someone who looked like a prince from the old stories.

The news of Lusmore’s transformation spread quickly throughout the county. People came from miles around to hear him sing and to marvel at the change that had come over him. His voice could now heal the broken-hearted, comfort the grieving, and bring joy to the most melancholy souls.

But what impressed people most was that Lusmore’s good character had remained unchanged despite his miraculous transformation. He was still the same kind, humble, generous man he had always been. He used his new gifts to help others, traveling throughout Ireland to sing for the sick and the sorrowful, never asking for payment but accepting whatever people could afford to give.

The Envious Hunchback

Word of Lusmore’s miraculous cure eventually reached the ears of another hunchbacked man who lived in a neighboring county. Jack Madden was his name, and he was in many ways Lusmore’s opposite. Where Lusmore was kind, Jack was cruel. Where Lusmore was humble, Jack was proud and boastful. Where Lusmore helped others whenever he could, Jack thought only of himself and what he could gain.

When Jack heard about the fairy cure, his heart filled with envy and greed. If that simple basket-maker could win such a gift from the fairies, surely he, who considered himself much cleverer and more deserving, could do even better.

Jack set out immediately for Knockgrafton, ignoring the advice of friends who warned him that fairy magic was dangerous for those with impure motives. He arrived at the hill just after sunset and positioned himself exactly where he had been told Lusmore had rested.

Soon enough, the fairy music began, just as he had expected. But now the song was different, incorporating Lusmore’s addition:

Da Luan, Da Mort, agus Da Ceadain Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday

The Disastrous Addition

Jack listened to the song with growing impatience. It seemed simple enough - all he had to do was add the next day and the fairies would reward him as they had rewarded Lusmore. When the moment seemed right, he added his own harsh, grating voice to the chorus:

Da Luan, Da Mort, agus Da Ceadain, agus Da Ceardaoin Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and Thursday

But where Lusmore’s addition had completed and perfected the fairy song, Jack’s addition ruined it completely. His voice was rough and unpleasant, his timing was poor, and worst of all, his addition destroyed the musical structure that Lusmore had so perfectly completed.

The fairy music stopped immediately, but this time there was no golden light or delighted laughter. Instead, Jack heard angry voices muttering within the hill, and the sound of feet stomping in fury.

The hill opened, but the fairies who emerged were not the joyful, welcoming beings who had greeted Lusmore. Their faces were dark with anger, and their eyes flashed with otherworldly fire.

The Punishment

“Who dares to destroy our perfect song?” demanded the fairy lord, his voice now terrible to hear. “Who has ruined the harmony that took us seven years to perfect and that the good Lusmore completed so beautifully?”

Jack, realizing too late that his plan had gone terribly wrong, tried to flee. But fairy magic is swifter than mortal legs, and he found himself pulled inexorably into the hill, just as Lusmore had been, but under very different circumstances.

The fairy court that Jack entered was the same magnificent hall that had welcomed Lusmore, but now it seemed cold and forbidding. The Fairy Queen sat upon her emerald throne, her beautiful face stern with displeasure.

“You have come here seeking reward for ruining our music,” she said, her voice like winter wind through bare branches. “Very well, you shall have a reward - but not the one you expected.”

Before Jack could protest or beg for mercy, the fairy attendants surrounded him with a cloud of silver light. But this light brought no healing transformation - instead, Jack felt a terrible weight settling upon his shoulders.

When the light cleared, the horrified man discovered that he now bore not one hump but two - Lusmore’s original burden had been magically transferred to him, adding to his own deformity.

The Lasting Lesson

Jack was unceremoniously expelled from the fairy hill and left to make his way home as best he could, now bent almost double under the weight of his doubled burden. The cruel irony was not lost on anyone who heard the story - in trying to steal a reward he had not earned, Jack had gained exactly what he deserved.

He lived out the rest of his days as a warning to others about the dangers of greed and envy. Children would point at him in the streets, just as they had once pointed at Lusmore, but where Lusmore had borne such treatment with patience and kindness, Jack responded with bitter curses and complaints.

Meanwhile, Lusmore continued to travel throughout Ireland, bringing joy and healing wherever he went. His story became one of the most beloved tales in Irish folklore, repeated wherever people gathered to speak of the rewards that come to those who approach life with kindness and humility.

The Enduring Magic

Years passed, and Lusmore grew old, but his voice remained as beautiful as ever, sustained by the fairy blessing that had transformed his life. When his time finally came to leave the mortal world, it was said that he died peacefully in his sleep, and that those who were present heard fairy music playing softly around his deathbed.

The people of Tipperary built a small shrine near Knockgrafton to commemorate Lusmore’s miraculous cure, and it became a place where other unfortunate souls would come to pray for healing and hope. Whether any of them received the kind of dramatic miracle that had blessed Lusmore, none could say, but many reported feeling comforted and strengthened after visiting the site.

The fairy fort itself became even more famous after Lusmore’s story spread throughout Ireland. Musicians and poets would make pilgrimages to Knockgrafton, hoping to hear the otherworldly music that had changed one man’s life so completely. Some claimed to hear faint melodies drifting from the hill on still nights, though none reported being invited inside.

The Moral Remembered

The tale of Lusmore and Jack Madden became one of the most popular teaching stories in Irish tradition, used by parents and priests alike to illustrate the importance of good character and pure motives. It showed that the fairies, like divine providence itself, rewarded virtue and punished vice in ways that were both just and memorable.

The story also highlighted the Irish belief that physical deformity or disability was not a mark of divine disfavor, but simply one of the challenges that some people were called upon to bear. Lusmore’s goodness shone through despite his burden, while Jack’s evil character was revealed in how he dealt with the same kind of difficulty.

Most importantly, the tale taught that true magic - whether fairy enchantment or divine blessing - comes to those who approach life with love, humility, and a generous spirit. Lusmore’s reward was not just the healing of his body, but the enhancement of gifts he already possessed through his own good character.

The Living Legacy

Today, the hills of Tipperary still echo with songs that remember Lusmore’s story, and Knockgrafton still rises from the emerald landscape like a green jewel touched by ancient magic. Visitors to the area are often told the tale of the kind hunchback whose beautiful voice earned him a miracle, and the envious man whose greed brought him only sorrow.

The story serves as a reminder that the most powerful magic is not found in spells or potions, but in the way we treat others and the spirit we bring to our daily lives. It teaches that true transformation begins in the heart, and that those who approach the world with kindness and humility will find that the world has a way of rewarding their goodness in the most unexpected and wonderful ways.

And on quiet nights in County Tipperary, when the mist rises from the valleys and the ancient hills seem to glow with their own inner light, people still sometimes claim to hear fairy music drifting from Knockgrafton - the same beautiful song that Lusmore completed so perfectly, still being sung by voices that remember the mortal man whose good heart earned him a place in legend.