An Irishman's Diary

There's another of those "epic" drama series trailing across our television screens these weeks, Kings in Grass Castles

There's another of those "epic" drama series trailing across our television screens these weeks, Kings in Grass Castles. It purports to relate the harrowing but - one suspects - ultimately triumphant story of the emigration of the Durack family from the famine-stricken county of Galway to the rugged landscape of colonial New South Wales.

To be honest, I watched only the first episode. You've heard of "the willing suspension of disbelief"? Well, mine got only a foot or two off the ground before collapsing with a muffled thump back to the dry, red earth of Australia.

Try as I might, I just couldn't get past the bewildering array of "Galway" accents. The father, Michael Durack - who, I was pleased to see, died a horrible death near the end of the first episode - sounded as if he hailed from that village just beyond Carna, Baile Begorrah. His son Patsy, on the other hand, clearly spent his childhood in that townland outside Portumna. Goes be the name Phibsboro.

As I watched, I couldn't help thinking what a wasted opportunity the series is, for there is a genuine tale of post-famine emigration from Galway to Australia which in its true drama would strain belief. I refer to one Robert O'Hara Burke.

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Birthplace of Burke

This time last year, the Diary reported on the sale of St Cleran's, John Huston's former home outside Loughrea. Well now, St Cleran's also just happens to be the birthplace of this year's hero, Burke. Spooky, as they say in Oz.

As every Australian schoolchild knows, Burke led the first and ill-fated expedition by white men to traverse the continent, south to north. The "black fellas", of course, had been at this for some time.

The year was 1860, and the government of South Australia put up a prize of £2,000 for the first crossing. Burke, who had been born in 1820, and who had served in the Irish mounted constabulary and the army before setting sail for Melbourne in 1853, was now working as a police inspector in Victoria when he volunteered to lead such an expedition.

This was unfortunate, as he had already established just how ill-suited he was to the task. Not long before, he had been sent off to restore order following riots on the Buckland Goldfield. He promptly got lost.

As my correspondent, Eamon McNally of Loughrea, puts it nicely: "It was a dangerous venture to cross a continent on foot - a distance of some 1,500 miles, not to mention the return journey. One would have expected that members of the expedition would have been experienced campaigners who would have lived off the land and who could have recorded usefully what they found.

Impulsive

"They were nothing of the kind. Burke was of an impulsive nature and a romantic cast of mind. Not unintelligent, he was no bushman and hardly scholar enough to keep a diary. His young assistant, John Wills, was an able surveyor, but, with all his courage and loyalty, not an adventurer.

"This was to become the great legend of Australia. Apart from establishing that the centre was an arid place of fearful heat by day and bitter cold by night, it accomplished little more."

After an easy journey north from Melbourne, Burke and Wills began their adventure in earnest when they set out northwards with two companions, Grey and King, from Menindee, on the Darling River in New South Wales, in October 1860. They crossed the Sturt Desert to Cooper's Creek, and then on to the Cloncurry River.

In February 1861, the Flinders River was crossed, almost at its mouth in the Gulf of Carpentaria, but the four were prevented by swamps and anxiety over diminishing supplies from finding a way to the coast.

On the return journey, Grey died of dysentery. When the three survivors, months overdue, reached their intended resupply depot at Cooper's Creek, they found it deserted - the group waiting with supplies had actually left that morning.

Mt Hopeless

Although food had been left to enable the group to reach the nearest town, Burke and King foolishly decided to carry on to the aptly named Mt Hopeless, leaving Wills at Cooper's Creek.

After two days, Burke died, and King returned to discover Wills was also dead. King was later discovered by a rescue party, having been assisted in the meantime by Aboriginals.

It's an inspiring tale, and indeed has proved the inspiration for this year's BAFFLE Festival in Loughrea this bank holiday weekend. The bawdy bards and bardettes of BAFFLE have selected "Get Lost" as the theme for this year's open poetry competition.

The festival opens on Friday with an evening with Michael Coady of Carrick-on-Suir. On Saturday afternoon the action moves to St Cleran's, now a hotel, for a poetry workshop with Gabriel Fitzmaurice.

That evening various hostelries in the town play host to the first round, so to speak, of the poetry competition. If you find too much laughter upsetting, avoid the place.

Survivors from the night before face Sunday morning's Limerick competition and a session with Michael Hartnett, and the grand finale of the poetry competition comes that evening. Theo Dorgan has accepted the onerous task of selecting the best from efforts culled from the previous evening's exertions. No doubt Marty Mulligan of Mullingar, who captured the title last year with a performance of high-octane humour, will be intent on defending his crown.

Further information from Geraldine on (091) 847009.