Ciaran’s Peculier [sic] Blog

A view of the world from an Irish hole

Month: August, 2010

Arya up for the ride at Cavan’s fleadh?

A persistent complaint of some visitors to Cavan’s fleadh has been the scarcity of prostitutes. It is often forgotten that traditional musicians have urges and that those who like to blow like to be blown. Cavan County Council’s initiative to provide cheap women alongside cheap accommodation by encouraging the town’s girls to make a few bob by going on the game during the fleadh failed because of lack of interest.

 Chief organiser Whacko Jacko is determined to make good this loss at future fleadhs by opening a string of massage parlours in the main street alongside the sandwich and burger bars catering for all tastes and genders. Prices will be capped: 50 euro for a hand job; 100 euro for a blow job and 150 euro for an LBJ. Of course present and past members of the council’s staff and their families can go free.

 For those who prefer a more alfresco sexual experience there will be licensed hookers working from the front gardens of certain locations suggested by the parents of council engineers. Although it was initially planned that the hookers would be able to take up residence without the garden owners’ permission, it is now envisaged that the girls will pay a percentage of their takings for the use of the grass. In the narrow spirit of the fleadh every effort will be made to encourage Irish girls to offer themselves or sale. We all remember the Walton’s music slogan. “If you fuck a whore, fuck an Irish whore.”

Nationwide moments

Wednesday evening (August 18th) witnessed the return to Ireland of Ireland’s answer to Ronnie Biggs i.e. Michael Fingleton. But whereas Ronnie only robbed a train Fingleton’s tastes were allegedly broader, and in spite of being apparently sated, the country still has to find billions to bail him out. In any country where justice is followed Fingleton should have been arrested on his return to Ireland, ah but sure police cells are only for poor people.

 Wednesday evening saw another “Nationwide” moment, on RTE’s Nationwide program. Part of this was dedicated to Cavan’s fleadh. It featured an interview with Cavan’s answer to stand-up comedian Jack Dee. I wonder whether Whacko Jacko actually believes some of the shit he comes out with? He presented Cavan town as one great doss-house, full of “cheap” accommodation in private houses where fleadh goers could crash out after a day or night on the piss. One thing which isn’t that clear is how patrons of the fleadh who are staying in assorted fleadh pits are covered by insurance. Then he came out with a load of crud about disabled access. Now I’m in a wheelchair, but there are many other disabled people in Cavan who have never been consulted about accessibility. No, the only one who is consulted is Whack Jacko’s friend Bridget.

 I heard rumours of what was going to be on the program later. Like someone watching the Horror Channel I nevertheless decided to ignore the warnings of “scenes that some viewers might find distressing” but I regretted it, as I was reminded that there are still lurking in our midst personifications of evil. I thought fate had caught up with that bastard and that he was dying of cancer? No such fucking luck! And what’s happened the ronnie? Its disappearance is the fault of that Dafydd from Little Britain who believed that the gay character on Are You Being Served? was Captain Peacock.

Pennies from Heaven

I am reliably informed that a roundabout near Cavan town is sporting a statue of a fiddle. This reminds me of that myth about how the emperor Nero fiddled while Rome burned in AD 64. It may have been belied by history, but I think there is a link. We are told that we are living through one of the worst economic recessions in the history of the state, hospitals are facing closure and cancer treatment units are being axed, the Department of Social Protection is refusing legitimate claims for benefits to people who have been signing on for months if not years on the grounds that the claimants are not habitually resident, and yet money has been flowing like water in Cavan and grants have been available to pubs and shops to cover seventy-five per cent of paintwork and repairs.

 This may seem like traditional Cavan begrudgery, but those who visit Cavan town for the fleadh must realise who the real beneficiaries of the fleadh are.

PS. It is wishful thinking on my part, but I can imagine some senior member of Cavan County Council’s executive team (maybe the fiddler) stabbing himself with a broken meths bottle, while exclaiming: Qualiter fellator pereo! (That’s your actual Latin that is. It means “What a cock-sucker dies with me!”)

Tom Barron, an unequalled Cavan Scholar

I am delighted to hear that Tom Barron, probably the greatest scholar to be produced by Co. Cavan, is to be the subject of a lecture by my good friend Jonathan A. Smyth in Bailieborough on September 7th at 8 pm.

 I remember the first time I met Tom. It was in March 1976 or 1977, when I accidentally gave a talk he gave in one of the anterooms of Cavan’s Town Hall. I had gone there with my late sister Anita to visit an exhibition of drawings by the contemporary Irish artist, Louis le Brocquy. Instead we stumbled on an illustrated journey into Cavan’s past: its archaeology, its history, its folklore, its religion, all of the things which go together to make up the area’s cultural heritage. It was presented by this affable and accessible man whose scholarship was very deep, but nevertheless worn lightly.

 Tom was never parochial in his outlook. I recall on another occasion how I mentioned my interest in looking at the history of a particular location, and Tom answered that such researches might carry me to the four corners of Europe.  

 Tom was someone who was greater than a historian or a folklorist. He was capable of looking outside of the box, and observing links between disciplines which those imprisoned within could not or dared not see. His curiosity, once excited, could never be satisfied by the limited pseudo-intellects of others. It was this element of his genius which excited the scorn and disdain of those who could never aspire to the breadth of his knowledge within a millennium.

 He was man whose quiet character endeared him to all of those who like him were motivated by the highest standards of scholarship. He was certain of what he had been able to achieve and never sort to adorn his intellectual plumage with feathers borrowed from others, whether willingly or unwillingly.

 I am looking forward with avidity to Jonathan’s talk, as it will repay a debt that has been for too long outstanding.

 http://jonathansmyth.wordpress.com/2010/06/18/thomas-james-barron-lecture-september-7th/

The McCabes in early 17th century Cavan

Here is a brief and rather hastily written summary of my talk to the McCabe Clan Rally in Ballyconnell last weekend.

 The McCabes in Early 17th century Cavan

 The Mccabes had arrived in Ireland from Scotland, and had acted as mercenaries for numerous septs throughout the north of the Island. However, by the end of the sixteenth century their long-term prospects were gloomy. The English crown was increasing its influence, and they had a low opinion of families like the McCabes who earned their living through fighting. What’s more, their military skills were becoming ever more redundant.

 The final denouement was the defeat of the Ulster rebellion, sealed by the Treaty of Mellifont f 1603. Many of the leaders of Gaelic Irish society, such as Aedfh O’Neill or Aedh O Domhnall chose exile rather than the uncertain future that awaited them. Among those leaving Ireland at the time was a captain Seamus McCaba who left Cavan for Spain, never to return.

 Their departure ushered in the Plantation of Ulster, where the lands of the Irish were given to planters from England and Scotland, and the original inhabitants were forced to live on restricted holding for which they had to pay high rents.

 The relationship between native and newcomer was not one of undeclared hostility though. While the Irish had lost much of their lands this did not cause universal resentment. They were still able to farm land, in return for paying higher rents, which many planters were only too happy to rent to them. The two groups lived beside one another and generally co-operated with one another. Marriages were rare if only because the two groups belonged to different religions, but they did occur, such as that between the Reverent Richard Parsons of Laragh, and a woman of the Ui Raghallaigh sept. There were also less formal unions. A prominent member of the Burrowes family of Stradone had a child by one McCabe, her serving man.

 The McCabes seemed to have accepted this situation.  Henry or Harry McCabe, a youth moved to Cavan town where he was brought up as the son of an inn keeper. There were still avenues for even greater advancement, as shown by James McCabe who became a highly respected lawyer and barrister. 

  In geographical terms the McCabes lived in central Cavan, in a belt of territory ranging from Ballintemple and Crosserlough in the south, to Drumgoon in the north, and extending to Drumlane in the west. The centre of their landholding was at Ogghill, later renamed Moynehall in honour of the planter Thomas Moigne.

 The balance between native and newcomer was upset by fears at the growth of the puritan party inn England, and that their victory might lead to further acts of discrimination against Catholics in Ireland. A plot was hatched by, amongst others, Lord Conor Maguire, baron of Enniskillen. This involved the seizure of Dublin Castle on October 23rd. The plan miscarried because its details were leaked, and its leaders arrested. Amongst those detained with Conor Maguire was a Culde Boy McCabe.

 The rebellion was initially successful in Cavan, its leaders were Philip McHugh O Reilly and sheriff Myles O’Reilly. The McCabes do not figure prominently amongst the voluminous depositions which have survived, and which often tell a story of barbarity and former friends becoming enemies. They didn’t take part in any of the excesses of the rebellion in Cavan, such as the drownings at Belturbet or the murders of planters at Lear near Bailieborough. However, some were implicated in attacks on the planters. The aforementioned Harry McCabe, turned on his benefactor at the start of the rebellion. He seized his goods and drove him and his family out of Cavan.  When the man re-entered the county in the autumn of 1643 as part of a band of soldiers, Harry ambushed and killed them near Virginia. James McCabe the barrister became a judge when the rebel authorities tried to reinstate court proceedings in Cavan in 1642.

 The leaders of the rebellion lost their lands, though it is unclear just how far the McCabes suffered this fate. James McCabe died in 1642 while Harry seems to have made a full confession of his crimes once English rule was re-established in the county.

 © Ciaran Parker 2010

The Slieve Russell Hotel, Ballyconnell

I recently dined in the Slieve Russell Hotel, Ballyconnell. The occasion was Sunday lunch and I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, both the setting and the food.

 The Slieve Russell may be a four-star hotel, but it is a welcoming location. When one arrives one is not greeted by a uniformed retainer looking for one’s car keys. The building is fronted by a large fountain in which children were playing. Movement around the hotel for those who like my are confined to wheelchairs is easy. There are no lifts down dark corridors concealed by curtains. The atmosphere in the hotel is warm and bubbly. This comment extends to the dining area which is decorated by chandeliers and has an atmosphere that is at the same time lively and intimate. When I was there diners were entertained by a pianist, and while I am not a fan of piano music the fact that the music was not canned muzack added sparkle.

 I cannot speak highly enough about the food. I had for a starter a beautiful dish of grilled goat’s cheese served with a plum compote and garnished with salad leaves, baby tomatoes and walnuts. For a main course I opted for salmon served in a sancerre-flavoured sauce with Cajun-style roasted vegetables. The dish was as delicious on the plate as it sounded on the menu – a transformation by no means universal in four=star hotels. My desert was a selection of ice cream served in an edible wafer basket with chocolate sticks. The meal represented amazing value for money.

  I certainly will be back .

The children of the nation

 John Waters in an article in a recent article in the Irish times has highlighted the case of a child born in Ireland which has been seized by the Irish social services and handed over to their British counterparts for adoption. The British social services are hungry for Irish children to meet their adoption targets,  as within the UK there are simply not enough nice white children being put up for adoption, and these are the types of kids being sought  by well-healed, childless middle-class couples.

 There are no guarantees that the child will ever know of its Irish citizenship. It could be sold to parents anywhere in the world, or far worse, could be sold into one of the international paedophile rings.

 I thought that Irish citizenship was the birthright of every child born in Ireland. What did our forefather fight and die for? What was James Connolly shot in an armchair for? The whole thing reminds me of a story in the Old Testament about how Joseph’s brother Esau sold his birthright for a mess of pottage. The difference wit this case is that it wasn’t Esau who was doing the selling.

 There are some very very dark forces circulating in Ireland today. Are we going forwards or backwards? I thought the dreadful policies of Forced Adoption had been ended in Australia, withi its deep-seated impact on the lives of aborigines who were torn from their native places and compelled to adopt a persona in line with the then current “White Australia” policy.  What policy is the Irish government pursuing here, because it is one with which I don’t want to be associated.

Cutbacks and kickbacks in Cavan?

Cavan: where money grows on trees?

 Along with the vast majority of people in Ireland I  though that we were going through one of the worst economic recessions ever. Cut-backs are the order of the day with hospitals being closed, teachers not being employed even where they are badly needed and a department of social warfare not even paying benefits they are statutorily obliged to. The world may be inching out of recession but we are still stuck in it, largely due to the errors of our rulers and their henchmen and women in senior levels of government.

 So the mood in Cavan town is certainly unusual. Money for the imminent bacchanalia or fleadh is growing on trees. There are the sums being given to the town’s publicans to tart up their tatty premises. The Cavan River, which has stank since W. Percy French’s time has been cleaned, and road markings have been repainted, yet the town is still an obstacle course for anyone in a wheelchair – but we don’t matter. Among the many rumours floating around is that the rendering plant at Monery, source of a stomach-turning stench in the summer, is to be closed for the week. But no matter how much gets spent on it Cavan town will remain a dump. You can put a whore into a Gucci dress, but look closely and you’ll still see the whore.

Something which is not a rumour is the diifficulty faced by people looking for essential documents like driving licences from Cavan County Council. They are told initially that there will be no problems and that the documents will wing their way in the post in the day or day following, yet days become weeks and still no documents. Inquiries are met by the response that the relevant ssction is experiencing “delaysa”. Are these delays caused by the redeployment of council staff to “fleadh” duty? If so someone should remind the executive cohort in Cavan County Council that their staff are employed by the state to carry out specific tasks related to the provision of services, and not for pronmoting a pissfest. I never realised that Cavan County Manager Whacko Jacko Keys was such a fan of traditional Irish music, though I have heard that, like so many other holier- than-thou officials in local government he is a true virtuoso on the fiddle.

 Now let me repeat that the fleadh, under the auspices of Cavan County Council, has become a money-printing exercise for Cavan’s publicans who have traditionally viewed traditional Irish music and its performers with contempt. Apart from venues like the Farnham Arms and the Hard Cock Café in Bridge St., better known as MacCauls, even the most gifted of traditional musicians were left in no doubt that they were unwelcome. But once the fleadh came, and with it the promise of some lolly, their conversion was greater than that of St Paul on the road to Damascus. Now I don’t like using ugly words like kickback, but I do hope these publicans are grateful and generous and that they will some part of their extra takings to those who have helped them, i.e. senior officials of Cavan County Council and others in the Department of Environment Local Government and Heritage (that’s a laugh!). Come on, it would only be fair.

Cavan fleadh aris

More and more people in Cavan are waking up to the reality that the forthcoming fleadh is just a profit maximisation scheme for the town’s publicans. Rumours abound that the the3se purveyors of ethanol intend to celebrate the fleadh by putting up the prices of drink. It is also expected that there will be numerous instances of people being short changed. This is easy if the punters are so befuddled with booze that they don’t know where they are. Let us also not overlook the presence of alcohol on sale, perhaps at inflated prices, on which excise duty has not been paid. Cavan town witnessed a raid by customs and excise officials in the not too distant past in which a number of premises were allegedly found to be selling this stuff. And let us not forget either the ubiquitous presence of “the bad pint”. I’ve heard that a whole car park is being set aside for the sale of food items. Will the Health and Safety authorities be policing these stalls to ensure that hygiene regulations are being adhe3red to? Or will they take their usual laissez fair attitude to these matters? Laissez faire can usually be translated into Cavanese as “Ah fuck it we can’t bother our arses”. There is an element of the old caveat emptor here. Their thinking is that anyone who will buy dodgy-looking burgers from dirty stalls crawling with flies and bluebottles, at ridiculous prices must be viewed as the architects of their own misfortune, or at least of their own diarrhoea. Don’t say you haven’t been warned.

I’m not being funny here, and I’m certainly not laughing, and neither will any visitor to Cavan durin the fleadh once they come down with a nasty tummy bug.

The McCabe Clan Rally, August 8th 2010

This coming Sunday August 8th, yours truly is speaking at the McCabe Clan Rally in the Slieve Russell Hotel, Ballyconnell, at around 3 pm, if they can get me out of the bar that is. The subject of my talk will be ”The McCabes in early 17th century Cavan”. The whole affair promises to be fun-packed and entertaining; it will if I’m there.

 This will be something of a homecoming for me. t must be over ten years since I last spoke at the McCabe clan rally and so I am looking forward to resuming old friendships and making new ones. It is also important, as quite a lot of McCabe blood runs through my veins thanks for my mother.

I may actually publish extracts from my talk on this blog, so stay tuned.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.