The green, green fields of Athenry
Malcolm Rogers takes a stroll through the mediaeval town of Athenry
to further his enquiries into one of the most sung about towns in the
world.
 By Malcolm Rogers
It is a beautiful old walled city, right enough, so what’s
the story here?
Athenry’s story is a lengthy enough tale, going back to about 1211
when the big Anglo Norman noise in the area, Meyler de Bermingham, fetched
up here and founded a castle, church and Dominican friary. Way back in
the 13th century the town was completely walled with a huge moat, and
much of the fortifications and the monastery walls are still standing
to this day, some 800 years later.
A Dominican Friary — that was some going for an out-of-the-way
place like Baile Átha an Rí, was it not?
Less of the ‘out-of-the-way’ business if you don’t mind.
But on your second point fair enough. De Bermingham, now Baron of Athenry
(he was a henchman of Strongbow’s, you see), was a devout Catholic
in these pre-Reformation days. But his persistence in persuading the Dominicans
to come town paid off — these mediaeval stone built monasteries
were icons of eternity in the midst of a disposable world of mud and wattle
housing, and made the town a very important place indeed, thank you very
much.
So the local people must have been quite proud to be associated
with such a notable priory . . .
Absolutely, particularly when in 1644 it became — or so it is claimed
— the first university in Ireland.
The local folk would have been equally impressed by the plenary indulgences
they were granted in gratitude for all the donkey work done in constructing
the friary in 21 years. The de Berminghams, in other words, arranged for
near enough automatic entry into heaven for the folks of Athenry.
Now, that name ‘de Bermingham’ — it sounds
a bit familiar . . .
Indeed it should — the same family who founded Athenry also gave
Birmingham its name.
Now hold on. Are you trying to say that the English town could
just as easily have a song written about it called “Low lie the
spaghetti junctions of Bermingham . . .”
Very droll, I’m sure. We’ll come to The Song all in good time.
So just why has Athenry remained largely untouched, with much
of its medieval character remaining intact? The place really has whiff
of the past about it.
It’s partly thanks to a TD — shock, horror — using
questionable tactics to gain an advantage for his constituency. In 1933
the Loughrea deputy in the Dail noticed that the planned route for the
new national road from Dublin to Galway was taking the direct line, through
Athenry, missing out Loughrea.
The wily TD, according to legend, merely fished his pen out of his pocket,
made a few amendments to the map, and the road to this day has a slight
bend which brings it south to the TD’s constituency.
Loughrea, although a very handsome town, is today a busy thoroughfare,
while Athenry remains a peaceful oasis in its low lying fields.
Sounds terrific. But anyway, to get back to the song. It seems to be
everywhere these days. A real karaoke favourite.
It’s Celtic’s national anthem, it’s always sung at soccer
internationals — and there was even a query in the Times of London
from someone who heard it being sung at a rugby match and wanted to know
what it was all about.
Go on then — what is it all about?
The Famine, theft, broken home. Written by Pete St. John. The Times letter
writer wanted to know why Irish footballers celebrate a goal by singing
about a man transported for stealing food. It’s probably a unique
theme in the world of sporting anthems.
And the song — any idea why it became so famous? I mean it’s
a fine composition, but really there’s got to be a hundred other
Irish songs just as memorable . . .
Well that’s certainly true, and no-one really has an answer. After
all, low-lying pastureland in east Galway is certainly not the most promising
start for a song. Having said that, the name Athenry has an attractive,
unusual feel about it — and it’s pronounced unusually, not
as one would expect AT-HENRY.
Perhaps even more importantly, there’s no great vocal range in the
song. Just like ‘Happy Birthday’ everyone but the clinically
tone deaf can have a go.
So the land-owning Treveryan mentioned in the song — he
must have been an awful blaggard altogether?
Presumably he would have been had he existed. But the big tenants round
here during Famine times were the Lampards, the Hickmans and the Lobdells.
No Treveryans, I’m afraid.
OK, that’s the song dealt with. Anything else memorable
happened round here apart from corn being stolen?
The university only opened in 1644, but in 1652 the town was sacked by
Cromwell. Not only did he dissolve the monastery — he stabled his
horses in this beautiful seat of culture and learning. A thriving university
one minute — a stable for horses the next.
So even apart from the annual Celtic supporters’ pilgrimages
here, the town has seen its fair share of wanton violence?
I’ll say. The Battle of Athenry in 1316 was a particularly bloody
affair with between 8000 and 10,000 Irishmen cut to pieces. The killing
fields of Athenry. The area of the battle is now a convent of the Presentation
Order of Nuns.
So what was the story there?
Familiar story, I’m afraid. The High King of Connacht, Phelim O’Connor,
assisted by the Princes of Thomond, Breffni and Conmaicme, wanted to put
an end to the landlord system once and for all. The de Berminghams brought
in their friends the de Burgos, and their superior archers won the day.
Phelim, the Thomonds and scores of other Irish nobles were slain. It was
the last attempt by the O’Connors to drive out the Anglo Normans
Oh, and the Celtic football pilgrimages were suspended a few years ago
— so no need to worry about bumping into a soccer weekend. The town
has streets perfect for wandering around and bars made for wasting time
in, the tumult of the past long forgotten.
Well, all very interesting, but anything for the kids?
I’ll say. The Athenry Arts and Heritage Centre (tel: 00 353 91 844
661; www.athenryheritagetown.com), formerly the Church of Ireland, and
even more formerly the 13th century church of the de Berminghams. Nowadays
it’s a very imaginative interpretative centre. Whether it’s
Halloween or Easter, the middle of summer or deepest midwinter, there’s
something for the children to do. All weather archery, a medieval maze,
face painting, puppet shows — this is a magic wonderland for the
kids whether it’s rain, hail or shine. If it’s birthday time
for any of your party can offer a really special day — as history
rolls around you, the kids (and adults!) can dress up in mediaeval garb
and take part in archery competitions, puppetry, face painting and fortune
telling.
But all that historical stuff — it’s a thing of the
past, surely?
Well, there’s no denying that history is a thing of the past. But
here’s a curious piece of information which shows that in some ways
Athenry hasn’t changed much. Until about the mid nineties, the size
of the population of the town remained the same as it was in 1200. For
the best part of about 800 years there was little change in the number
of people living hereabouts.
For further details of what Athenry and Galway East has to offer,
contact Galway East Tourism on: tel: 00 353 91 850 687; e-mail: info@galwayeast.com;
website: www.galwayeast.com
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