It's one of the oldest traditional horse fairs in the world. Spancilhill provides a wealthy cast of characters, writes Brian O'Connell

Christy McNamara slings his 1950s Roliflex camera over his shoulder, stuffs two digestive biscuits into his overcoat and jumps the low wall in front of his Cromwellian cottage.

It's early morning, the dew is slowly giving up the fight, and already the surrounding lanes echo with horses hooves and reversing trailers. Turning left, he walks a mile down the road, away from Spancilhill Cross, Ennis, Co Clare and past Downes, where a mammoth sandwich-making operation is kicking into gear. He looks to the sky. Good light.

At the entrance to the fair field, a group has already gathered to observe a market trader from Derry. "Get 'em off the lorry lads. Hairnets for free - perfect for working in a chip shop or while showjumping. We're practically giving them away."

Something about him catches McNamara's eye. A spark. He takes two pictures. Snap. Wind forward. Snap.

A hand meets his back. Hard to think a year has passed already.

"Well Christy, it's younger you're looking. Big fair this year - you still haven't got rid of that auld camera?"

"That auld camera" has taken McNamara from London to Paris, Bono to The Bothy Band and more recently a sell-out exhibition in Manhattan. For McNamara though, there's no place like Spancilhill. He wouldn't miss it for the world.

Despite being one of the oldest traditional horse fairs in the world, there came a time in the 1980s when Spancilhill looked in trouble. Money was tight; the fair had become unruly and was beginning to loose its appeal. Tradition alone couldn't be expected to sustain it. Something had to be done.

Local vet Paddy Hassett, busy sorting entry forms for the show section, was one of those responsible for helping revive the fortunes of the Spancilhill Fair.

"The fair extends way back," he says. "We have a charter granted by Charles II in 1660, but we know it was held for 100 years before that. At that time you had horses, sheep and pigs. In 1912 armies from Germany and Prussia came here to buy and kept coming till the second World War. There was a bit of a change in the late 1940s when farms became mechanised. Before that there was very little motorised transport, horses were bought and shipped through the port in Waterford and walked here in a line of 20. From then until the late 1980s it was very much in decline. A couple of us formed a committee, mainly to improve the image of the horses and the people who attended. It has gone from strength to strength since then really. Now I would say that we have the fair back to where it was originally."

With 6,000 punters estimated to have attended this year's fair on June 23rd, and more than 1,000 horses, not to mention dogs, ducks, cattle and geese, it seems Hassett has a point. Everything from an anchor to a needle has a price at Spancilhill, with many travelling from all over Ireland, England, northern Europe and, in one instance, Japan, for the fair.

In many ways the changing fortunes of Spancilhill represents a history of social change in Ireland, particularly over the past 50 years. Where once everyone travelled here on horseback, these days extra fields have to be commandeered to cater for the multitude of 4x4s transporting the increasing attendees.

Seated outside two barrel-top wagons, Ron Bell from Roscommon has little time for Range Rovers, and is anxious instead to get a campfire going. Beside him, a young relation sells old-style clothes pegs, "lucky" horseshoes and shawls.

"It's 12 years since I've been here," says Ron. "I'd say there's a lot more people here this time. We're not here to do business really - just a day out. We set out on June 4th from Co Roscommon in horse-drawn carriages. Took us 19 days, although we stopped off along the way. It was a nice trip - hadn't done it in years."

Further up from the Bells, a crowd has gathered around a makeshift table, where three cards are laid out face down.

"Pick the King and double your money. Simple as that," entices the quick-handed dealer. Experienced locals smile and look on cagily, aware that half the crowd is in cahoots with the card dispenser. A German couple shows interest. "Has to be that one." "Definitely have it this time." It's all over in less than a minute and with €300 in their pockets, the dealer and his friends lock onto their next victim. I feel I must console the recently impoverished Germans. What brought them here?

"We like the song very much, although now we're not so sure!" they admit.

Without 80-year-old Robbie McMahon, the ballad Spancilhill may never have had such wide appeal. McMahon was the first person to record the ballad on Radio Éireann.

"Nowadays the song is not sung correctly," he says. "Many singers put words that are not in it all, singing stuff like 'Johnny, I love you still'. There's no Johnny in that song. Michael Considine was the man who wrote it, you can see his house from here. The story is that he went off to America when he was about 18 or 19, and at the time he was doing a line with a local girl. He went off to make money to bring her over later. He went to Boston first, then California, then went to high school and became an accountant. He got into bad health though and never came home until he died. He's buried here locally and I got the song from a lady who got it off the Considine family. I'll never get tired of singing it," he says, advancing in the direction of a young pony he has his eye on.

Michael Darcy from Carlow is examining the teeth of a three-year-old Appalachian mare. He's interested. A passer-by observes the stalled negotiations and intervenes.

"The seller wanted €3,000," explains Darcy. "I was offering €1,500. A horse dealer from Limerick was passing by, and he knows us both. He got us together and we agreed on €2,000. As is custom then I was looking for €100 back for luck - in the end he gave me €50. It's all part of the game. It's about decency and trust. Usually you know by looking at a man if he will strike a deal. There are some great characters here. Like the song says - 'the young, the old, the brave and the bold' - they're all here."

Christy McNamara loads another roll of film, points his camera, and adds: "Tradition - that's what keeps people coming back to Spancilhill. That and a handy way to mark the passing of each year!"