Connacht Tribune

A time not that long ago when we had to scramble for survival

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A sketch depicting the coffin ships of the 1800s.

Country Living with Francis Farragher

Sometimes, I’m taken aback a bit, by some of the younger acquaintances that I enjoy a few scoops with. They’re kind of surprised that I’m not a fan of Donald Trump; that I’ve no problem with gay rights; and that I have sympathy for the plight of the Ukrainians who have come to Ireland to avoid being slaughtered by the Russians.

There is, I feel, some lingering gene from famine times which clicks in with me – and a lot of other Irish people too – where a little alarm bell of the mind rings and transports me back to a time of only a few generations back when the Great Hunger ravished our land, killing around one million people with at least as many more, taking the emigrant boats, mainly to America, to try and survive.

At times, it’s worthwhile to have a little historical reflection, on the greatest catastrophe to have ever hit our island when we were a colony of the United Kingdom following the 1801 Act of Union. We were a largely tenant population – the poorest of the poor – relying almost exclusively on the potato crop to feed the general masses.

Although the penal laws had largely been repealed during the Daniel O’Connell era, there were only two classes of people in Ireland during those days of the 1800s: the English and Anglo-Irish families and landlords who owned practically all of the land and then at the other end of the ladder, the far greater majority of the population, the native Irish, who had to pay rent and eke out a living from two or three acres of often poor quality land.

As bad as things were up until 1845, at least the potato crop managed to keep the people fed. Potatoes ironically had been introduced by the landed gentry about a century before that as a garden crop, with one main variety grown, known as the Irish Lumper. Disaster though was to strike through 1845 in the form of potato disease with the name of Phytophrthora infestans, which in simple wordage translated into a word that’s now part of the Irish psyche – the blight.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.

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