The First Vampire: Jure Grando

In the shadow of more well-known vampire narratives from Transylvania lies an ancient, sinister tale that predates even Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Emerging in the small Istrian village of Kringa, Croatia, is the first recorded instance of European vampirism, a story that reverberated through generations and contributed to shaping the contemporary vampire mythology.

In 1656, Jure Grando, a local stonemason, passed away under circumstances later shrouded in historical controversy. Some describe him as an upright, industrious individual who fell prey to the harsh political climate of the era, while others argue that the darkness had already touched him before his demise. The truth surrounding Grando, much like the man himself, refuses to rest quietly in his eternal slumber.

According to a variation of the legend, Grando met his fate due to his opposition to an antiquated custom known as “jus primae noctis” – the entitlement of local rulers, in this case the monks of St. Peter in the Forest, to spend the inaugural night with any newlywed within their jurisdiction – an entitlement used as a plot point in the movie Braveheart. When Grando fell in love with a woman named Ivana (alternatively referred to as Rosa in some accounts), he rejected adherence to this practice. Concerned that his defiance might foment opposition, the monks instructed Mayor Miho Radetić to dispose of this challenge to their supremacy. Although the mayor’s hammer blow only incapacitated Grando, the villagers, assuming him deceased, interred him while he was still alive.

Another version presents a bleaker narrative of Grando’s life and demise, hinting at his pre-existing familiarity with the dark arts prior to his burial. In the folklore of the Istrian peninsula, an ancient belief revolved around entities known as ‘strigon’ – sorcerers who consumed children’s blood during their lifetimes and transitioned into undead beings after death. Whether Grando belonged to such a category before his burial or transformed into one thereafter remains a subject of ongoing discourse.

What can be affirmed, as per the documented chronicle by Slovenian naturalist Janez Valvasor in 1689, is that Grando’s passing marked merely the initiation of Kringa’s perpetual saga of terror. Over the subsequent sixteen years, the hamlet would be haunted by a malevolent presence refusing to accept rest within its sepulcher.

The terror commenced with the sound of knocks. Each night, inhabitants would be greeted by distinct raps on their doors, a foreboding noise that soon became synonymous with impending demise. Shortly after these nocturnal visits, one within the targeted household inevitably met their end. Locals murmured that Grando had resurfaced as a strigon, deriving sustenance from the life essence of his former acquaintances.

However, it was Grando’s widow who bore the brunt of his posthumous affections. Night after night, she endured the spectral visits of her departed spouse, his countenance frozen in a ghastly grimace that appeared to amalgamate a grin with labored breathing. These were not mere echoes of haunting – Grando would impose himself upon her, persisting with what he perceived as his conjugal rights long after death had sundered their marital ties. For a duration of sixteen years, she endured these violations in silence, her horror rivaled solely by her humiliation.

The villagers’ remarkable endurance of this supernatural oppression may seem exceptional in today’s context, yet the grip of fear and superstition can immobilize even the most valiant souls. It was not until the year 1672 that they found the resolve to take action. Father Giorgio, the very same clergyman who had laid Grando to rest, allied with Mayor Miho Radetić to mobilize a band of nine courageous villagers who were willing to confront the vampire.

Accompanied by crosses, lanterns, and a hawthorn stake, the group stealthily entered the cemetery under the veil of night. Upon unsealing Grando’s coffin, they were confronted with their deepest dread – the cadaver lay eerily intact, adorned with what appeared to be a scornful grin. Even in death, Grando seemed to mock their efforts to thwart him.

Father Giorgio brandished his cross and proclaimed, “Behold Jesus Christ, foul strigon! Cease your torment!” To the group’s dismay, tears streamed from the corpse’s eyes, yet this display of emotion failed to deter their resolve. Their endeavor to impale his heart with a hawthorn stake proved futile, as the weapon rebounded off his chest as if made of stone.

In a moment of desperation, one villager, Stipan Milašić, took resolute action. Seizing a saw, he commenced cutting through Grando’s neck. Upon breaking the skin, the unimaginable occurred – Grando’s eyes flew open, and a spine-chilling scream echoed from his throat. Blood surged from the wound with an otherworldly intensity, as if the life essence he had siphoned over sixteen years was returning to the earth all at once.

Upon the decapitation’s culmination, tranquility was at last restored to Kringa. Grando’s remains were laid to rest once more, this time outside the official burial grounds, in accordance with the tradition for those who met a violent end or took their own lives. Local lore maintains that his final resting site lies beneath a stone pathway behind the church, in proximity to the present-day cemetery.

Jure Grando’s story may have slipped into obscurity if not for Johann Weikhard von Valvasor, who immortalized the tale in his book “The Glory of the Duchy of Carniola” in 1689. This written account establishes Grando’s case as the earliest recorded instance of vampirism in European history, predating even the legends of Vlad the Impaler that would later inspire Bram Stoker’s iconic character, Dracula.

Today, Kringa has embraced its eerie past, turning it into a source of cultural pride and a draw for tourism. Once a place where the mere mention of Jure Grando struck fear into villagers’ hearts, the tranquil village now houses a vampire museum and hosts themed literary events. While some of the elderly residents still vividly recall the terrifying tales of Grando from their youth, the passage of time has transformed fear into folklore.

The enduring legend of Jure Grando transcends mere horror, serving as a poignant reminder of how deeply supernatural beliefs were woven into everyday life and how communities grappled with the inexplicable. Whether Grando was a true vampire, a pawn in political machinations, or a tragic figure whose demise triggered mass hysteria, his narrative encapsulates all the quintessential elements that would shape vampire mythology: death, resurrection, violation, and the enduring power of faith and solidarity in combating malevolence.

Ultimately, the most unsettling aspect of Grando’s saga lies not in its supernatural facets, but in the profound human drama at its core – a saga of authority, defiance, apprehension, and a community’s resilience in reclaiming tranquility. As contemporary visitors stroll along the stone path behind Kringa’s church, they might pause to ponder whether they stand above the remains of Europe’s inaugural documented vampire, and whether the veracity of Jure Grando’s chronicle remains forever interred with him, beyond our grasp.

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SOURCES: “Jure Grando: The First Vampire” sources: Husain Sumra, Medium: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/ykfdupbh; Wu Mingren, Ancient Origins: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/2p8n3k68; Secret Dalmatia: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/y69r8e4k; Total Croatia News: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/yckt77m2