FROM THE ARCHIVES:Already suffering the economic effects of the Great Depression of the early 1930s, Irish farmers were hit further by the Economic War which followed the new Fianna Fáil Government's decision to withhold annuity payments to the British government. The effects were felt quickly and dramatically, as this report by an anonymous visitor to Clifden shows. – JOE JOYCE
‘THE BUSIEST time is between 11 and half 12,” said the knowledgeable man of the locality, in answer to our question. “But,” he added, “the fairs do be small in Clifden, these days.”
“How long has that been so?”
“Well, now, it does be like that for the last few months,” he replied cautiously.
At 10.15 we set out to find the fair. A sad mist drifted over the countryside, and a rather Novemberish sou’-wester blew in from the Atlantic, neither of which improved the dismal scene which awaited us.
Clifden consists of two main streets, and some other streets and laneways thrown in. At the junction of the two main streets the market is held. We discovered three cheapjack auctioneers and their outfits, and one solitary old woman sitting with a basket of fish, packed disconsolately. For the rest, one could have fired a gun down either of the streets without endangering life.
By 11 o’clock a few women with baskets of potatoes and a box containing half-a-dozen bonhams were added to the collection. We searched for cattle, and found nine at the far end of the street and eight more round the corner. Sheep were represented by a little lot of 14, in which no one seemed interested. Inquiry elicited that none of the cattle were sold.
“How many cattle and sheep would you expect at this fair under ordinary circumstances?” we asked the proprietor of a large shop who was gazing at the desolation disconsolately.
“Eight or nine hundred head of cattle and five or six hundred sheep and lambs. This fair’s gone to hell entirely,” was the reply.
“One of your chief fairs, isn’t it?”
“Faith, it was: it and the one in July.”
“What was the July one like?
“The same as this – ’tis terrible.”
“It must make a lot of difference to you.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Tis the same with everyone,” he responded fatalistically.
We went down the street and glanced into some 40 shops. We discovered one customer among the lot! By this time it was noon.
When midday arrived the itinerant auctioneers had set up their stalls, and were vigorously yelling against each other; a few peasant women had arrived with baskets of potatoes and kreels of fish. Including stallkeepers, vendors and customers, there were exactly 73 people at the fair, while in the other main street 15 motor cars and half a dozen farm carts accounted for all there was to show for the remnant of the once prosperous Clifden Fair.
The outstanding characteristic of the little concourse . . . was the general expression of weary despondency.
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