CHAPTER I
The Great River Roads
hen we think of old roads, tracks, byways, we naturally tend to visualise these as being tramped out over the centuries on solid ground – over mountains, through valleys, leading to sacred sites, markets and castles, linking one community with another. Yet there are far earlier roads, known and followed by travellers since prehistoric times.
Those who first came this way by sea (itself the most ancient and well-known path) found Ireland had a deeply indented coastline with safe and sheltered bays. They followed the rivers that flowed into these bays, rivers that pointed the way ever onward and upward, drawing the intrepid explorer on with the promise of fertile soil, fresh water and, above all, a safe place to settle.
The great river roads connecting Ireland’s interior to the sea gave easy and relatively safe access. No need to beat through thick forests where enemies or wild animals might lurk, no danger of losing your way. When a highway like that opens up in front of you, the most natural thing in the world is to accept its lure and set off to find out what lies round the next bend. And where the first explorers led, others followed, each contributing to the gradual expansion of settlement and trade.
Ireland is bountifully supplied with rivers, each with its own story to tell from prehistory to the present. Here are three (or perhaps we should call it five, strictly speaking) that reflect different aspects of those stories and of the country. They are the Shannon, the Bann, and the Three Sisters.
THE SHANNON: FIRST OF ALL, LINKING ALL
The longest river in Ireland and indeed longer than any in neighbouring Great Britain, the Shannon rises from a dark and mysterious pool in Co. Cavan and flows south and west for 360km (224 miles) through or between eleven counties before reaching its estuary, which is itself a major harbour. Virtually dividing Ireland in half, it’s our supreme waterway, known and travelled for thousands of years. It has seen invaders, pilgrims, colonialists, battle fleets, engineers, industrialists, and finally pleasure-seeking tourists. As such, it is linked to every stage of Ireland’s history and development.
Whoever first happened upon its spreading estuary must have wondered what could possibly lie further inland, since from the sea it is not possible to guess just how far the wide waters continue. What we do know is that it was familiar to the world’s earliest traders. It is shown on Ptolemy’s famous 2nd-century map, which was itself compiled from earlier sources held in the legendary library of Alexandria in Egypt.
Alexandria was an important trading centre at the cross-roads between west and east. The Pharaohs gently but firmly insisted that any books or writings arriving with travellers should be confiscated and copied for their library. In fact the originals were then kept by the Pharaohs, the travellers getting the copy. The great library became a treasure house of knowledge, and Ptolemy would thus have gathered his information on Ireland from sources such as nautical charts or descriptions of journeys, which would themselves have originated from information passed between trading ships over previous centuries. We can be fairly sure, therefore, that a good knowledge of Ireland’s coastline and its major rivers was available from before the time of Christ. And that in turn argues a succession of visitors to these shores, whether traders or travellers, from a long way back.
What did they come for – trade, raid, worship or settlement? The trade route from Iberia to Ireland and Great Britain stretches back into prehistory. Ships from the Middle Sea or Mediterranean would have brought wine and salt north, exchanging it for hides, wool, grain and copper. They in turn dealt with Greek and Phoenicians, and it is quite likely that these traders from the far south also came to Ireland. From the north, the Danes brought tar and timber, seeking foodstuffs and hides in return. Later they would return in their longships, to plunder, terrorise, and finally settle.
Then there were pre-Christian pilgrims who might well have made the long journey to visit famous sacred sites like the Hill of Uisneach, using the river roads to reach them. And finally there were those seeking new lands, somewhere to settle, found a community, raise families and crops. Many came to the estuary of the Shannon.
This river has always been of strategic importance. When Oliver Cromwell ravaged the country in 1654, his principal aim was to ethnically cleanse three of the four provinces to free up the land for incoming English settlers. Any surviving landowners were given the choice of going ‘to Hell or to Connacht’; that is, die or migrate into the poorer land west of the Shannon.
Approaching from the sea, the Shannon estuary appears enormous, as indeed it is, with Co. Limerick spreading out on the southern side and Co. Clare to the north. The estuary has boasted its own river monster since ancient times, a fearsome creature called Cathaigh, which sported a horse’s mane, a whale’s tail, and death-dealing nails of iron.
St Senan, patron saint of Co. Clare, is said to have defeated Cathaigh at Inis Cathaigh, or Scattery Island, which lies in the estuary just outside Kilrush. You can’t keep a good monster down, though, and she might still be spotted on stormy days if you keep your eyes open. Senan afterwards founded a monastery on the island, the ruins of which still stand, along with a round tower. Catch a ferry there from Kilrush and enjoy the peace that now envelops an islet which has seen Viking raiders, sheltering Spanish Armada ships, Tudor invaders, and even more recent British army outposts. An island in such an estuary is a key strategic location, whatever the century.
A short distance upriver from Scattery, the estuary narrows a little, and here a modern car ferry crosses between Killimer and Tarbert, reflecting thousands of years of boat travel transporting travellers from one side to the other. The name Tarbert, or Tairbeart, means a draw-boat or portage, that is, a place where boats must be pulled across land to reach another stretch of water. The ferry port is in fact on a little island just off the mainland, although this is now connected by a bridge. In early times, those crossing the estuary at this narrower point might well have had to drag their boats across the narrow island before reaching the Limerick shore. The car ferry is an ideal way to experience the space, the grandeur, the wildness of this great river as it meets the sea. Dolphins are often spotted disporting themselves around the boats (they really seem to enjoy accompanying them).
Foynes, on the Limerick side, was the first landing base in Ireland for seaplanes or flying boats from North America. Surveys were made by Charles Lindbergh in the early 1930s, and the first transatlantic flight from Newfoundland landed there in 1937. In 1942, Foynes was abandoned in favour of a new airport at Shannon. Today it houses a museum of flying boat history.
The distinctive fishtail shape of the upper estuary becomes noticeable here, the River Fergus forming the north fin, and leading on to Newmarket-on-Fergus, Clarecastle and Ennis. The southern fin of the fishtail is the Shannon itself.
The flat landscape we see today around the Shannon estuary was far more thickly wooded in antiquity. Archaeological digs, as well as occasional marked drops in sea level, have revealed the remains of coastal forests as well as trackways and wooden dwellings. The remains of woven willow fish baskets and fish traps have been found, and the medieval Annals of Innisfallen record that in 1105 ‘…there was caught by fishermen in the sea of Luimneach [Limerick] a fish of unheard-of size which measured fifteen feet, and two ingots’ weight were obtained for it.’ Was it a basking shark? A pilot whale? Or perhaps one of Cathaigh’s offspring, escaped from St Senan’s clutches?
Lough Gur, 22km (13.6 miles) south of Limerick, was probably settled by migrants arriving via the rivers Shannon and Maigue some...