| The West’s Awake
By Malcolm Rogers
Malcolm Rogers considers the charms of Connacht.
To Hell or Connacht as Cromwell once memorably said, and right enough
at one time the five counties of this ancient province held little welcome
for the English. Apart from the in-built local disdain for the invaders,
a good dollop of bitterness was imported into the area as well.
After the 1641 Rebellion, surviving landlords were transported here,
and eventually the area played host to probably the bloodiest battle in
Irish history when 7000 Jacobites were slaughtered by Williamite forces
at Aughrim on July 12th, 1691. Not the way to foster good neighbourly relations.
Thus, it’s hardly surprising that the word ‘boycott’ was coined in this
land — arising through the non-payment of rents to one Captain Boycott —
as well as the world ‘lynch’, (as in hanging) which originated in Galway
city.
Neither is it surprising that the countryside hereabouts is dotted with
‘Famine walls’. The Famine bit deep here, but the people remained so seditious
that they weren’t trusted to build roads during the Famine relief scheme.
Roads meant communication, and communication could lead to rebellion. So
in order to earn a crust from the authorities the Connacht people were forced
to build pointless walls up hillsides — which still scar the landscape today.
It’s a peaceful place now, but remains under-populated. The counties
of Galway, Leitrim, Mayo, Roscommon and Sligo are the least populated in
Ireland — probably in Europe. In fact you could easily pack the 26,000 people
who live in Leitrim into the Nally Stand of Croke Park — and still have
room for a few Roscommoners as well.
It’s a breathtaking landscape however, described once by Connacht man
Percy French as “winging from Paradise with rainbow hues and the succulent
tones of sunset skies.” However, Percy, who was a Roscommon man, was not
responsible for suggesting that when God made Connacht he said, “OK there’s
your Galway — now, do you want Mayo with that?”
Galway and Mayo are the two biggest counties in the Province, and between
them contain some of the countryside which outside the country would be
regarded as ‘quintessentially Irish’ — Connemara, “Quiet Man country” and
Croagh Patrick.
But the rest of Connacht has much to recommend it — Sligo has Yeats Country
and Ben Bulben; Leitrim, with its two miles of coastline and lack of any
traffic lights throughout the county boasts its own lake district and the
River Shannon; Roscommon, Connacht’s only inland county, has Lough Ree,
the Curlew Mountains and more traditional music than you could shake a bodhrán
stick at.
The biggest city in the region is Galway, which is now the party and
club destination of choice for most of Ireland’s young people. Dublin is
seen as having been taken over by English stag parties, Belfast remains
too Calvinistic and Cork is too culchie (all nonsense of course).
But Galway has the name for being a buzzy, vibrant place with pubs, clubs,
restaurants and two of the biggest events in the festival calendar — the
Galway Races and the Oyster Festival.
Less is heard of the ancient capital of Connacht these days, Rathcrogan,
formerly Ráth Cruachan, in Co. Roscommon. According to tradition, pre-Christian
Ireland had five great roads. One ran from what is now Dublin to Galway.
The other four linked the hill of Tara with Kerry, Armagh, the south coast
near Waterford, and Rathcroghan. Today it remains a complex of more than
fifty archaeological monuments to the north west of Tulsk. Head for Rathcrogan
if you prefer rock structures to rock and roll.
With most of the rest of the world now over-run by motorways and McDonalds,
Connacht remains an oasis of charm and tireless beauty. Opportunities remain
to ramble in unspoiled countryside, meditate in places like Knock, or partake
in the pagan abandon that Galway city specialises in. Even if the weather
can be a little iffy, the people are extraordinarily friendly, the craic
is seldom less than 90 (the maximum permitted under the Geneva Convention)
and the scenery is outrageously spectacular. Just like it says in the song
The West’s Awake: “Be sure the great God never planned / For slumbering
slaves a home so grand.”
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