In Search of the Fairies

If you chance to pick up a book of Irish fairy tales, you’ll likely find a story about Lusmore, who was, according to W.B Yeats’ version “a poor man who lived in the fertile glen of Aherlow, at the foot of the gloomy Galtee mountains” and who had a great hump on his back.

Knockgraffon Motte

Legend has it that one evening Lusmore came upon “the old moat of Knockgraffon, which stood on the right-hand side of his road”. Sitting under the moat (or “motte” which is a large man-made mound of earth) he presently heard a “wild strain of unearthly melody… like the sound of many voices, each mingling and blending with the others so strangely that they seemed to be one, though they were all singing different strains” (not unlike the unearthly ruckus at the Monk’s pub on a Wednesday, some would say).

Now Lusmore soon realized that the music was coming from within the moat, and it was indeed fairy music. The story goes on to describe how Lusmore enhanced the lyrics of the fairy song with his own impromptu offering, and the fairies were pleased and relieved him of his hump.

 A short, steep climb to the top

But the story doesn’t end there, of course, because you know fairies are generally unscrupulous and every good tale must disclose their darker side. Another young fellow (with an even larger hump) who got wind of Lusmore’s good fortune, tried to get his cut of cure from Knockgraffon. But not having Lusmore’s pure heart and kind intentions, he unwittingly insulted the fairies and thus wound up with two big humps for his trouble.

It’s a great tale, with a universal theme and appeal, and it’s from right here in Tipperary. So when I read it I wondered if Knockgraffon might be a real place and I might find it and encounter the fairies. I knew Dixie would look at me funny if I told him this, but I told him anyway. 

Well it was right there on Google, Knockgraffon Motte, not 20 minutes from our house. So off we went on another adventure. And it did not disappoint. Rising up from the road, among the rolling hills of the Golden Vale, was the motte in all its ethereal glory. We parked on the side of the road (the same road Lusmore had wandered down) and climbed the 60 feet or so to the top. It was spectacular… with panoramic views of shimmering farmland dotted with ancient church remnants and even the ruins of a Norman castle.

We took a few photos then relaxed in the sunshine and imagined the activity on this hill centuries ago. According to online sources (which I’m sure were the fairies themselves), the Motte of Knockgraffon was “an Anglo-Norman settlement in the 12th and 13th centuries and would have included a wooden structure on the summit. It is said that, in earlier times, this may have been the location of the coronation of the Kings of Munster…” That makes it an historic goldmine! Wow!

When my friend, Deirdre, came to visit this week, the Motte of Knockgraffon was at the top of the list of sites I wanted to share with her. Like me, she was instantly enchanted. The soft mossy grass was littered with tiny wildflowers and clouds cast misty shadows on the landscape below. Apparently the fairies were forgiving of our intrusion, as we felt every bit as favored as Lusmore.