Traditions of Omey Island - 1860

Traditions of Omey Island 

Duffy's Hibernian Magazine - December 1860

Many of the early settlers of Minooka were from Omey Island, including Mulkerin, Powell, Flaherty, Flynn, and Toole. Later emigrants included Faherty, Lacy, and King. Omey Island (Irish: Iomaidh) is a tidal island situated near Claddaghduff on the western edge of Connemara in County Galway. From the mainland, the island is inconspicuous and almost hidden. At low tide, it is possible to drive or walk across a large sandy strand to the island. At high tide, the water is deep enough to cover a car. It's a stunning landscape with sand-dunes and rolling hills, a lake, boulders, grass, flowers, cows, rabbits, and cemeteries. Little has changed on Omey from the time the article below appeared in Duffy's Hibernian Magazine. When the article was published in December 1860, Mary Mulkerin had already emigrated to Minooka (Lackawanna Township) and had married Patrick Powell. Mary's sister, Ann, who would marry Patrick Ryan, was living with the Ruanes on Birney Avenue. Their brother, John Mulkerin, would emigrate in 1862. When John was killed in a mine accident in 1867, his widow, Bridgit Flaherty, married Anthony Cusick.

"If the tourist, who contemplates a journey through the majestic scenery which intervenes between the towns of Clifden and Westport, consent to leave the high-road after crossing the bridge of Streamstown, about a mile and a half from the former place, and turn with us in a due westerly direction, we will undertake to conduct him along one of not the least interesting bye-ways of the wild region of West Connaught. The road lies for about two miles by the northern shore of the narrow channel or inlet known as Streasmstown bay, which indeed in some places is scarcely a hundred yards across, and is frequently enclosed among rugged and blackened rocks of huge dimensions. We pass the old church-yard of Tempul Athdearg, or the church of the Red-ford; and a little further on, the ruins of the old house or castle at Doon, which stands on our side of the inlet, while on the other side of the water are the ruins of the ancient church of Kill, covered with ivy. This inlet was once a famous resort of smugglers, and a good story is told of a contrivance by which they succeeded, on a certain occasion, in escaping from the crew of a revenue cruiser who pursued them in boats; a number of spade-handles having been so placed as to resemble a formidable array of muskets projecting from a steep bank, and the king’s people being induced by these “threatening” preparations to make a rapid retreat to their vessel.

"At length we obtain a view of the vast ocean, with the islands of Innisturk, Croagh, Omey, and others scattered over its bosom, and the grandeur of that prospect compensates for the dreariness of the scene which immediately surrounds us; although this same granite wilderness of Claddaghduff, rivals for barrenness and wretchedness any other spot in all Conamara. The road here deserts us at the low beach from which, at ebb-tide, we may cross almost dry-shod to the once famous island of Omey. But why do we call it famous? Can there be anything to distinguish that flat unpicturesque abode of misery from any other spot in which human wretchedness prevails along the most desolate tracts of the Irish coast. We answer, yes: that poor unfavoured island in the remote west, nearly half the surface of which is covered by a lough and a spewy marsh, while the other half is little better than driving sand, the scanty vegetation on which is frequently blasted by the “red wind” of the Atlantic—that island, we say, has a history of its own. It was the “Imagia insula” of the old Latin hagiologists, and was, as far as we know, the very last spot in which paganism lingered in Ireland. In the latter half of the seventh century, St. Fechin, the holy abbot of Fore, in Westmeath, found the inhabitants of Omey still pagans, and encountered violent opposition from them when building a monastery there, although he obtained the island from the good king of Connaught, Guaire the Generous... 

St. Feichin's Well

"The sands which separate Omey from the mainland may be about half a mile across at the point where they are most frequently traversed by the people at low water. Sometimes the sea which rolls over them is lashed by the storm into gigantic waves; but in calm weather the inhabitants venture to ride or wade across even when the tide covers the greater part of the intervening strand. When that wide expanse of sand is deserted by the sea, an immense accumulation of small stones may be seen below high-water mark, in a long ridge on the island side, parallel with the shore. These stones are said to have been collected there preparatory to a conflict celebrated in the traditions of the neighbourhood, as having taken place on the occasion of an invasion of the island by the O’Flaherties of Moycullen. The sept of O’Flaherty are generally represented in those traditions as fierce and relentless aggressors, and the chieftain of Moycullen in this case appears to have been eminently entitled to that character. He demanded tribute from the lords of Bunowen, Ballinahinch, and Doon, and proceeded to exact his claim with a strong force of his retainers, at whose head he rode accompanied by his two sisters, who were as warlike as himself; while the alarmed vassals, resolved to resist the oppressive exaction, fled with their cattle and other moveable property, and all the men they could muster, to Omey, where, under the command of O’Toole, the chief of the island, they made the best preparations they could to defend their families and chattels.

"Soon the belligerents were only separated by the narrow strait which divides St. Feichin’s island from the mainland, and the ebbing of the tide was to be the signal for O’Flaherty’s attack. The only thing in the shape of firearms which the beleaguered force possessed was an old matchlock of enormous length of barrel... A famous marksman named Brian-na-broig, or Brian of the shoe, took up a convenient position to direct it with advantage against the approaching enemy. Brian-na-broig soon spied the leader of the assailants, whom he covered with the muzzle of his unerring matchlock... And the matchlock maintained its character, for the next instant, it shot the leg off O’Flaherty, and spread consternation among the Moycullen army. O’Flaherty’s sisters, however, soon rallied their men; and causing the wounded chief to be placed on a hurdle, and carried at their head, they charged with great fury across the sands. The assailants were received with a shower of stone that darkened the air; but they persevered, and succeeded in obtaining a footing on the shore of Omey, where the battle raged for sometime with great fierceness; the ladies urging on their people with great determination. In the midst of the conflict O’Flaherty died of his wound, and his loss decided the fortune of the day; the Moycullen men fled, leaving the strand covered with their slain; and the sisters having dipt their kerchiefs in their brother’s blood, swore by it to be revented; and then, putting spurs to their horses, fled with all possible speed through Ballynakill and Joyce country, never looking back, it is said, until they reached Maam Turk, where they halted and wept over their disaster. There is a small cemetery on the island near the scene of the battle, and it is said to have been first opened to receive the bodies of those slain on the occasion; its name of Ull-brean, or fetid burialground, being very probably derived from that event.

"The O’Tooles (O’Tuathail) who were unquestionably a branch of the great Leinster sept of that name, were for many centuries the Lords of Omey, but only as vassals of the O’Flaherties who exercised over them a tyrannical sway. An instance of this is preserved in a whimsical tradition of the country."

Contributed by Maria Montoro Edwards