Aran Mor, the largest and most westerly of the three Islands of Aran, is called in Irish Aran-na-naomh—Aran of the Saints, for it is the holiest spot on Irish soil. In days past it was the chosen home of the Saints of God where they loved to live, and where they longed to die. One hundred and twenty seven saints sleep in the little grave-yard around Killeany Church; and we are told elsewhere that it will never be known until the Day of Judgment, the countless host of saints, whose relics are mingled with the sacred soil of Aran. We propose, therefore, to give a fuller account of the Aran Islands, both in the present and the past, than might, perhaps, be expected from the scope of this work. The islands are filled with both Pagan and Christian antiquities; the inhabitants are a singularly amiable and interesting people; and the physical features of the islands are very bold and striking. We shall say something of them all.
II.—The Isles of Aran.
These Isles of Aran, with which the name of Enda is so intimately associated, stretch across the entrance to Galway Bay, forming a natural breakwater against the wild Atlantic billows. They are three in number—Aran Mor, Inismaan or Middle Island, and Inishere, or the Eastern Island, but frequently also called the Southern Island. A glance at the map will show that the islands trend to the north-west, opposing a straight wall of lofty cliffs to the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. Geologically the islands are a continuation of the limestone formation of the Burren mountains—“a gray and bluish-gray splintery limestone,” containing in some places quarries of marble, which even in the time of Roderick O’Flaherty, some two hundred years ago, were worked for tomb-stones, chimney-pieces, and high crosses. The same author says the soil was paved with stone; in some places nothing is to be seen but the naked rock, cropping up everywhere with wide openings between the joints, “where cattle frequently break their legs.”
The surface falls to the north-east, and this lower shore line of Aran Mor is broken into two bays, which afford shelter from the prevailing winds. But on the south-west, or seaward line, the islands offer an almost unbroken wall of rock to the long swell of the ocean, rising in some places sheer from the sea to a height of nearly three hundred feet, and hidden beneath the waters to a depth of from twenty to thirty fathoms. Here and there the harder rock stands out in bold precipitous headlands, or completely isolated cliffs; while at other points the sea eats its way through caverns, where the waves roll in with hollow, thundering sound into the bowels of the rocks; and the compressed air within forcing its way upward forms ‘puffing holes,’ through which the spray is shot high in luminous columns into the air.
Aran Mor is about nine miles long and two at its greatest breadth; it is separated by Gregory Sound[158] from the Middle Island, which is rudely elliptical, and about eight miles in circumference. This latter island is separated from Inishere by a narrower passage, about one mile wide, called the “Foul Sound,”[159] which deserves the name, for it is a rather dangerous passage, containing a hidden shoal with only six feet of water over it. Gregory Sound is wider and deeper, being quite navigable from shore to shore. The tides blocked by the island barriers rush with great force through these narrow channels, rendering the navigation very difficult and dangerous. The passage between the north-western extremity of Aran Mor and Golam Head in Connemara is called the North Sound—in Irish Bealach Locha Lurgain. It is about eight miles across. The passage between Inishere and the co. Clare—the more usual one for sea-going ships—is called the South Sound, and is about five miles broad at its narrowest point. There is a lighthouse near a place called Finnis Rock[160] at the south-eastern extremity of Inishere, which marks the limit of a very dangerous shoal, that stretches out from the island into the Sound. This rock, says O’Flaherty, was remarkable for ‘ship-wracks.’
Aran Mor contains 7,635 acres, with a population of nearly 2,000, the greater part of whom, in 1901, could neither read nor write. It has three considerable villages—Killeany on the east; Kilmurry in the middle; and Oonagh towards the north-western extremity of the island.
On the northern slopes of the island there is a sweet, juicy herbage, on which sheep and cattle thrive very well. The grasses are intermingled with various medicinal herbs, such as the wild garlic, which is said to give a delicate flavour to butter, and the rineen, or fairy flax, which is believed to have wonderful curative properties. R. O’Flaherty declares that in his own time “beef, veal, and mutton are better and earlier in season here than anywhere else.” He could hardly say so now with truth; but there is no doubt that the veal and mutton are well flavoured. On the shore, in his time, “were samphire in plenty, ring root, and sea-holly, or sea cabbage.” The samphire is there still—the crithmum maritimum, or cranagh. It is said to have been used for preserves, and when boiled is frequently eaten by the poorer classes.
The crops consist of patches of oats, rye, and potatoes—the latter is an uncertain crop, whose failure causes great hardships to the islanders. Kelp-making and fishing are the two staple industries of the place. The kelp, or burned sea-weed, is used in the manufacture of iodine, and pays very fairly in dry seasons.
All kinds of fish abound near the islands—cod, ling, haddock, turbot, gurnet, mackerel, glassin, bream, and herring; besides there are lobsters, crabs, and cockles; but the appliances for fishing are of a very primitive description, and the boats are unable to stand severe weather. Many coarse seals are shot on the rocks, and sun-fish used to be speared in April and May from which a considerable quantity of oil was extracted.
All manner of sea-birds frequent the cliffs:—plovers, gannets, pigeons, ducks, and anciently hawks in considerable numbers. Some of these birds, says O’Flaherty, “never fly but over the sea, and are therefore used to be eaten on fasting days, to catch which people go down with ropes tied about them into the caves of the clifts by night, and with a candlelight kill abundance of them.” “Here, too,” he adds, “are Cornish choughs with red legs and bills.”